We were taken out for tea yesterday. As a ‘thank you’. I accept all
the thanks ever offered. Especially if it comes with strawberry jam
and clotted cream.

We went to the quite stunning Rosewood Hotel in Holborn. No, not
‘quite’ anything, really really fucking stunning. And the ‘mirror
room’ is what you’d expect; lavish, immaculate, six miles over the
top, yet really comfortable and relaxing. Not many mirrors though, so
maybe not everything you’d expect.

And I love afternoon tea. High tea. It is the infrequently taken (for
the sake of your arteries) best meal of the day. It should contain
everything you want to eat but nothing you really need. That’s the
rule. We even skipped lunch in anticipation. And I hate skipping
lunch. Or breakfast… dinner… snack-time…

Most of London’s big hotels do ‘tea’. Why not? Its a quiet lull-time
for them and they can flog you a few sandwiches and a scone for 30
quid a time, including ‘all the tea you like!!!!’ as if tea is the new
gold or single malt. Its tea. So they make a big deal about it, about
everything. To set them apart from all the other hotels doing pretty
much the same stuff.

At the Rosewood, the USP is that their ‘tea cakes’ are ‘inspired by
artists’. So the little white cube thing (salted caramel and chocolate
mouse with a mini-profiterole inside, nothing too sickly), was a
‘Banksy’ and had a little Banksy label attached. Amazing. Much better
shoved in my gob than hanging on a wall. Or scribbled on a old garage
door. The little spotty thing in the middle tier was a wonderful
‘bisque’ (the French or otherwise pretentious way of saying ‘biskit’)
with chocolate fondant and passion fruit creme, but was rather a
disappointment in that it was ‘a Damien Hirst’ and therefore I
expected something a little more ‘dead animal in formaldehyde’ or
pig’s spleen and bleach, but there ya go.

Wonderful tea. Wonderful afternoon. Sugar rush not yet subsided.

They don’t serve high tea at White Hart Lane. They serve up wins
instead. And the head waiter, the maitre d’, the head honcho in the
goals department, without any pretentiousness at all, is Harry Kane.
Who ‘only’ scored 2 this weekend, which for him is one short of his
‘usual’. Another great (ok, and ‘home’) win.

What an afternoon that was.

Happy Monday

A xxxx