If London was a flat, the surrounding areas would be bedrooms, The City and the East End would be the kitchen, Soho would be the toilet where people come to shag and snort cocaine off faux marble counters, and anything west of Picadilly would be the parlour. The Gore hotel is swept under a chair in a sunny part of the parlour, close to the balcony of Hyde Park.
Anabelle and I opted to take our tea in the bistro as opposed to the bar. The establishment exuded the familiar Victorian comfort often encountered in London without feeling overly fusty. Giant gilded-frame mirrors offered near infinite reflections of the room and its vintage chandeliers and 19th century prints.
We were a bit taken aback to find ourselves ushered to a nearly empty restaurant. Save for a jovial birthday celebration we were the only guests there. I like when a restaurant is busy, when the waiters are gliding from table to table in their quiet efficiency. Servants become waiters, their dreaded destiny becomes a job. It's something my lower middle class origin can process and justify. The service was very good, although the maitre'd (cum servant in my twisted perception) looked a bit flummoxed when we asked for Champagne. The waiter was very attentive to timing, making sure we were ready for the food after having our Champagne and doing his best to make us not feel rushed.
The selection of tea was standard. Anabelle and I ordered a pot of Darjeeling. First sip revealed a faint but unmistakable essence of bergamot. We concluded that this was either an Earl Grey or a Darjeeling that spent too much time in the earl's bedroom and acquired the aristocrat's signature scent. Our suspicion was confirmed by the waiter, who quietly resolved our confusion by bringing the package the tea leaves came in. It was Earl Grey Darjeeling. It would have been courteous to be more descriptive on the menu.
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| The surrounding area |
The food was good although uninventive. The tiered plate struck a good balance of savouries and sweets and the strawberries that garnished the sandwich tier tasted freshly picked. The sandwich course included the tried and tested combination of roast beef, salmon, ham and cucumber, crusts duly trimmed. Scones were delicious and so were the éclairs and miniature marzipan tarts.
Our experience at the Gore was pleasant but the tea is too pricey to be a quotidian haunt of the middle classes but too unremarkable to become a destination for special occasions.
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