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| - When the slush is everywhere, when Christmas is gone, when a grey unending series of days descends on late January, when February looms ahead like a tombstone made of brownish ice, my soul yearns for certain things. Stationary. Fountain pens. Big hats and gloves. Most of all, afternoon tea.
Yes, it's expensive, but forget that, honestly. It does you more good than dinner at a midrange restaurant, and you can see where the costs are - multi-layer petit fours don't just assemble themselves, and they must lose a bunch of those elegant teacups every year to breakage and kleptomaniac ladies.
Our usual haunt for tea is the Library Bar at the Royal York, which is very nice, but I figured Windsor Arms deserved another chance. Last time I'd found it hectic and crowded, with invasive service. This time, all was different.
This time, we were directed to the new Red Russian Room - red in colour, not politics, as the walls are covered in Romanovs. It's very pretty, and a good antidote to the taupe palette on the winter streets. It was relatively dim and very, very chilly (caulk the windows! caulk them now!), but pretty and otherwise comfortable. It was also quiet; it's fairly solidly separated from the constant chinking and clanging of china and teaspoons in the main room. The service was wonderful.
We had the cream tea - my cunning plan involved coming on a weekday when it was available. The sandwiches that come with the full tea are a little rarified for me (smoked salmon and caviar really aren't my thing) and I always leave feeling entirely stuffed. Well, I still did, but this time it was just two scones and two creamy petit fours that did it, as well as the utterly delicious rose earl grey tea. I blame my consumption of Devonshire cream, which flows like thick buttery water.
I left lighter of step, happier of mein, and more satisfied with the world in general. Also, Devonishire cream is an excellent insulator against the cold.
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