Think fine bone china; solid silver cutlery; linen napkins; lace doilies; tea strainers; waiters dressed up as penguins; elegant attire (including 2 slightly embarrassed ladies in full length evening wear); Ritz royal loose leaf tea; lots of little pinkies sticking out at right angles; the tinkle of ivories; smoked salmon sandwiches; warm scones with clotted cream and jam; melt-in-the-mouth macaroons; crumbly meringues; lemon posset (which I thought was another word for baby sick, but never mind); gold, glass, glitz and glamour; impeccable manners; the whiff of over-indulgence; a sprinkling of English pomposity; a side order of nostalgia for times gone by; and of course a generous dollop of yumminess......
...and you have Tea at the Ritz. And as much of it as you can consume without feeling sick or embarrassed - which, in our case, was quite a lot. My lovely friend, Sally, and I rose to the challenge and to the occasion splendidly, convincing ourselves that after many years of searching we had in fact found our natural habitat. Feed us regularly with delicious canopes and pastries, water us with champagne and surround us with luxury, and we will thrive and blossom!!! (Iain and John, take note!)
Thankfully, our self-delusion evaporated just in time to prevent us from buying a little Dachshund puppy from Harrods at £1900!!!! Back down to earth ladies!
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