Afternoon tea at The Ritz with the Emmas was genuinely one of the most special experiences of my life. From the moment we walked in we felt like royalty. Chairs pulled out and the waiters calling us madam (I’ve never been called madam before or since apart from when being told off by my mum)
It was bonfire night, and we’d chosen the last possible service for the day. (7.30)
Inside The Ritz is beautiful. Some might think its dated, but I adored it. The toilets are even, dare I say it, slightly gaudy. (I wish I’d taken a picture but I didn’t know I was going to blog about it a year and a half down the line.)
A lot of my judgements on a place is based on the effect it has on the social anxiety I experience in certain situations. There have been times I’ve not even been able to walk into a place because I’ve seen through the windows that the tables are too close together, or because the noise booming out of the door terrifies me. The Ritz wasn’t quiet, by any stretch of the imagination. There is usually about a 3 month waiting list for afternoon tea, so every seating is fully booked, but rich people seem to chat more quietly, and it was all accompanied by a pianist gently tinkling. It was oddly comforting.
There’s a good choice of teas, but they were fine when I asked for coffee instead, and the crockery was all….ritzy…! I loved it but resisted sneaking a teacup into my bag.
A tiered cake stand is brought out with a selection of sandwiches (see menu) and some beautiful Mille Fours on the top. Unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been, they leave the scones until later, because they are best served warm. (I loved this.)
Now I know usually people hate over attentive staff, but at The Ritz it feels right. We were constantly asked was there anything else they could bring us, and was everything OK. The drinks are unlimited and you can have something different if you change your mind. (I’ve found some places will only let you have one kind of tea unless you want to be charged extra.)
Before the scones were even brought out we were starting to feel full, but couldn’t resist when they did bring them. They were GORGEOUS. And they really were better warm.
Now, you’d think that was it, but no, next thing you know the waiters are bringing around little pots of lemon posset – which I was just going to have a tiny taste of, but it was too delicious to leave so I snaffled it right up.
By now I was genuinely fit to burst, and I thought I was having a hallucination when I looked up and saw a man at the side of our table with a dessert trolley. I politely declined his offer of any of the cakes (a really traditional selection of Victoria sponge and coffee and walnut and the likes) but he insisted. Like, to the point where I couldn’t actually say no.
So as I’m forcing down another piece of cake, telling the Emmas that I am about to throw up all over The Ritz from all the bossness they have shoved down my neck, I’m aware of a presence at the table. (Again) . I look up and see another waiter with a tray. He smiles and says “would you like any more sandwiches ladies?” (Now I’m pretty certain this must be because it was the last service and The Ritz aren’t the type to put the butties in the fridge till the next day-so don’t go first thing in the morning and then be jel that you didn’t get the extra sarnies.)
Now I am full up. We all are. There’s absolutely no way we could possibly eat any more. So once again we politely decline. The waiter however, insists on filling up the cake stand again “just in case”.
We ate them, of course. You don’t leave leftovers at The Ritz. It’s not classy is it?
There is no feeling of being rushed, it’s actually really relaxed for such a posh place. A waiter was chatting to us as we let our food settled and we mentioned we wouldn’t mind taking a menu home of that was OK. He said it was fine but said we shouldn’t take used ones, so he nipped off to get us some brand new ones.
We went for the traditional afternoon tea, which at £40 pound a head is dearer than a lot, but it was so worth it and I can’t recommend The Ritz highly enough. A lovely treat from Jonesy! (Thanks pal! X)
As we rolled out (with my top button on my skirt secretly undone for breathing space) Emma Byrne summed it up beautifully.
“The poshest all you can eat buffet I’ve ever been to.”
onegirl1cup 