In London, two solid weeks of tea for one
LONDON» The Duchess of Bedford was hungry. It had been hours since the lady-in-waiting to Queen Victoria had eaten breakfast at Belvoir Castle, and dinner — as always — would be served at 8. What was a famished functionary to do? She called for tea and a light repast to be served in her chambers, and the enduring English custom of afternoon tea soon became the rage.
What could be more perfect for the traveler than a relaxing pause (anytime from 11:30 a.m. until 7:30 p.m., depending on the tea salon) with enough sandwiches, scones and pastries to substitute for lunch or dinner?
During a recent two weeks in London, I was by myself; tea for one just hit the spot. I reserved months ahead and wove afternoon teas through my stay as a ribbon of gloriously relaxed interludes.
Once again, I was reminded that it’s true that you get what you pay for. Although every one of my teas was superb, some were even more so, and the most expensive ones were at the top. Generally, afternoon tea at a lovely place like Kensington Palace’s Orangery will cost close to $40, and the very best will cost about twice that.
My favorite was, indeed, among the most expensive, at about $79. The Foyer at Claridge’s has been hosting afternoon tea for 150 years, and certainly has it perfected.
The high-ceilinged tearoom is all cozy and colorful in its signature Claridge’s sea-green and white, from the beautiful carpet and striped china to the cushy upholstered tub chairs and pillows. A gorgeously sculptured, twisted and knotted glass chandelier hangs over the towering centerpiece of green and white flowers.
The pianist and cellist were playing “Cheek to Cheek” as I was ushered to a round, whiteclothed table with a bouquet in the center. My waiter, in a crisp, white jacket and Claridge’s green bow tie, presented the menus of teas and delectables with a flourish.
“Let me tell you how we make the perfect cup,” he said, and assured me that he would return with a second cup if I decided to
switch from Assam. I settled in to people-watch. As the piano and cello played on, I surveyed couples of several vintages: a group of elegant women in hijabs, a mother and young daughter with a big bow in her hair.
Perfect little tea sandwiches came quickly, lined up like crop rows — as they were at each of the tea spots I tried. Claridge’s version of the usual sandwich varieties are the best. Their Cotswold roast chicken, layered with asparagus and avocado in crème fraîche on rye, and the Scottish salmon, with dill and rock samphire mayonnaise on malt bread, are superb.
I tried to pace myself, knowing from experience — this was the fifth of the eight afternoon teas during my stay — that the scones and pastries were still ahead. By now, the duo’s music and the tea I had chosen had me in dreamland.
As with nearly all of the tea spots, Claridge’s serves plain and raisin scones with clotted cream and jam (including its secret recipe for Marco Polo gelee, a variation on strawberry jam). Many places also offer lemon curd. All you can eat — if you dare.
Although my waiter never stopped trying to convince me to switch teas, he kept bringing fresh pots of Assam. Like the other high-end spots I tried, Claridge’s tea menu recommends different varieties for different dishes, like wine pairings.
The piano and cello were on to “Tea for Two” and I was sinking back into my comfy chair, loving the scene.
Nearby, on one side, was a group of six Americans talking politics. On the other, three women speaking Arabic. All very hushed. Not a jarring sound to be heard. Gorgeous.
I rallied as my waiter presented a platter of pastries that included the lightest strawberry cream tart with tiny streusel crumbles, the lightest lime-cream macaroon and the lightest chocolate cream with caramel on a crispy bottom. And finally, I took his advice to try an infusion to accompany the desserts and enjoyed a light lemon grass herbal tea.
It was 6:30 p.m., and the lights dimmed as a bass took the cello’s place for “There Will Never Be Another You.” There could never be another tea like this one, for sure.
None of the afternoon tea spots rushed me. I spent an hour and a half to two hours at each. And the hosts and waiters didn’t bat an eyelash about giving a onesome a nice perch from which to savor the experience. Here are some high points of the other afternoon teas:
Overall runner-up: The Savoy Hotel, where the scones are supremely soft and doughy, better than Claridge’s, and the setting gorgeous, with its 1904 glass cupola.
Best for an intimate, quiet setting:
Brown’s Hotel, where the tearoom is oak-paneled and low-ceilinged. Top hint: a fromage blanc lime and ginger tart.
Best if you prefer stylish dress and a strict men’s dress code: The Ritz Hotel,
the only one I visited that is still requiring a coat and tie for men.
Best for a view: Aqua Shard, on the 31st floor of Britain’s tallest skyscraper, where the glass-walled restaurant is contemporary, you can see for miles up and down the Thames and the food is great.
Best for a world-class, encyclopedic selection of teas: The Diamond Jubilee
Tea Salon at Fortnum & Mason, grocer to the queen.
Best for quicker, less expensive teas (three-way tie): The Wolseley, which
seems to host more London ladies for tea.