Tea at the Savoy!
Apr. 14th, 2005 03:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annwfynI am told that tea at the Savoy is clearly my personal equivelent of being an ANST*. I managed to insert it in every other sentence last night.
*beams*
Yes. Yesterday, as a 'Mike's Last Day In The UK' type thing we went for afternoon tea at the Savoy. I booked in advance, we got dressed in what we hoped were suitably 'smart-casual' clothes, and off we went.
It was wonderful. First of all, tea at the Savoy involves sitting in the most beautiful room. One walks through the rather large and grand entrance hall, then down a flight of broad and shallow steps. At the bottom of these steps is a large room, with a grand piano in the middle at which a rather good pianist is playing. There are some beautiful chandeliers, set up so it looks as if they are draped in greenery. The room is lined with mirrors, opaque with gorgeous stained glass art deco style artwork on them. The chairs are huge and squishy and the table linen is crisp and white.
A man in a tail coat shows you to your seat, and enquires what kind of tea or coffee you would like with your tea. There is a long list. If you're me you ask pathetically if you can be really awkward and have a glass of milk. The response is a magnificant "Of course! You can have whatever you want."
You are seated. Tea arrives, and chilled milk in a tall glass if you're me. You get as much milk as you want as well. Then the food appears.
Afternoon tea at the Savoy costs £24 per person. For that you get a little silver tower, with three large plates set on it. The bottom plate contains many little finger sandwiches with the crusts cut off. The salmon ones are particularly good. The middle plate contains a range of cream cakes and other pastries which are gorgeous. The raspberry and chocolate coulis was a dream that I am still fantasising about. The top tray contains the proper traditional scones with sultanas in them to go with the strawberry jam and clotted cream that is also delivered in little silver dishes.
If one of those plates becomes empty, a nice man with a tail coat asks you if you would like some more.
I thought that possibly we were being overcharged for what we got, and then discovered that I actually couldn't finish what we had.
Heaven.
And all this in comfortable chairs with a pianist playing feeling like an extra in Jeeves and Wooster.
I'm told the gentlemen's toilets are a thing of wonder as well. There are attendents who do everything bar offer you sexual favours when you go there. The ladies' toilets weren't quite as exciting. I got a bored looking woman glance at me, decide I didn't look like a good bet for a tip and then spectacularly ignore me. Mike obviously looks richer and more generous than me.
We wandered out of the tea room an hour and a half after we went in there and slid to the gift shop. Yes. The Savoy has a gift shop. It has a really rather nice range of shinies, including a 'legend' mug whichmelsner and I bought for twicedead in memory of the late, great and spectacular Duke Julian Twicedead. Or Thricedead. Or (as some call him) "Die You F**ker". Ben smiled a lot when he saw it, so I figure it was money well spent.
The evening was much less exciting. Bella Italia just can't compete with the Savoy, although I did askksirafai and pierot if they could possibly put on tail coats and dance on mine and Mike's every whim. Somehow it just wasn't the same, however. The fact that they glared at me menacingly really spoiled the atmosphere, I feel.
I also discovered a new and wonderful thing about the Savoy. If there are thirteen guests for dinner there, they have a beautiful large wooden carved cat which they produce and sit at your table with a napkin around its neck. It is then 'the fourteenth guest' and is treated as a de facto diner. This prevents the unlucky number of thirteen from occuring. I know that dinner at the Savoy would be horribly expensive, and I might need to save up for this, but I want to find twelve people to go with me. I want to see the cat! Any takers?
*With all due apologies to the ANSTs who might read this. You're all very lovely people and I hope no offense is taken. It is simply that it has been noted that people who spend a lot of time doing something which they are rather proud of tend to mention it fairly often.
*beams*
Yes. Yesterday, as a 'Mike's Last Day In The UK' type thing we went for afternoon tea at the Savoy. I booked in advance, we got dressed in what we hoped were suitably 'smart-casual' clothes, and off we went.
It was wonderful. First of all, tea at the Savoy involves sitting in the most beautiful room. One walks through the rather large and grand entrance hall, then down a flight of broad and shallow steps. At the bottom of these steps is a large room, with a grand piano in the middle at which a rather good pianist is playing. There are some beautiful chandeliers, set up so it looks as if they are draped in greenery. The room is lined with mirrors, opaque with gorgeous stained glass art deco style artwork on them. The chairs are huge and squishy and the table linen is crisp and white.
A man in a tail coat shows you to your seat, and enquires what kind of tea or coffee you would like with your tea. There is a long list. If you're me you ask pathetically if you can be really awkward and have a glass of milk. The response is a magnificant "Of course! You can have whatever you want."
You are seated. Tea arrives, and chilled milk in a tall glass if you're me. You get as much milk as you want as well. Then the food appears.
Afternoon tea at the Savoy costs £24 per person. For that you get a little silver tower, with three large plates set on it. The bottom plate contains many little finger sandwiches with the crusts cut off. The salmon ones are particularly good. The middle plate contains a range of cream cakes and other pastries which are gorgeous. The raspberry and chocolate coulis was a dream that I am still fantasising about. The top tray contains the proper traditional scones with sultanas in them to go with the strawberry jam and clotted cream that is also delivered in little silver dishes.
If one of those plates becomes empty, a nice man with a tail coat asks you if you would like some more.
I thought that possibly we were being overcharged for what we got, and then discovered that I actually couldn't finish what we had.
Heaven.
And all this in comfortable chairs with a pianist playing feeling like an extra in Jeeves and Wooster.
I'm told the gentlemen's toilets are a thing of wonder as well. There are attendents who do everything bar offer you sexual favours when you go there. The ladies' toilets weren't quite as exciting. I got a bored looking woman glance at me, decide I didn't look like a good bet for a tip and then spectacularly ignore me. Mike obviously looks richer and more generous than me.
We wandered out of the tea room an hour and a half after we went in there and slid to the gift shop. Yes. The Savoy has a gift shop. It has a really rather nice range of shinies, including a 'legend' mug which
melsner and I bought for twicedead in memory of the late, great and spectacular Duke Julian Twicedead. Or Thricedead. Or (as some call him) "Die You F**ker". Ben smiled a lot when he saw it, so I figure it was money well spent. The evening was much less exciting. Bella Italia just can't compete with the Savoy, although I did ask
ksirafai and pierot if they could possibly put on tail coats and dance on mine and Mike's every whim. Somehow it just wasn't the same, however. The fact that they glared at me menacingly really spoiled the atmosphere, I feel. I also discovered a new and wonderful thing about the Savoy. If there are thirteen guests for dinner there, they have a beautiful large wooden carved cat which they produce and sit at your table with a napkin around its neck. It is then 'the fourteenth guest' and is treated as a de facto diner. This prevents the unlucky number of thirteen from occuring. I know that dinner at the Savoy would be horribly expensive, and I might need to save up for this, but I want to find twelve people to go with me. I want to see the cat! Any takers?
*With all due apologies to the ANSTs who might read this. You're all very lovely people and I hope no offense is taken. It is simply that it has been noted that people who spend a lot of time doing something which they are rather proud of tend to mention it fairly often.
