The Mirror Room at Rosewood London has achieved what lovers of interior decor may consider perfect harmony — mirrors reflect and refract, climbing up the entry wall into the high ceiling; from the light fixtures, embers of burnt chartreuse mingle with silver sparks; and velveteen couches, prim and yet cushy, hug darker wooden tables. This is the first phase of afternoon tea, and taking those initial steps to your table may quickly turn into more of a glide.
The next sensory event follows your acclimation to whichever spot you’ve been given. The floor has an open concept; yet, each dining space is perfectly intimate. My friend and I sit arm-to-arm in a booth with high walls, supported by fluffy metallic pillows. Our server explains the menu, and the ceremonial fanfare begins.
The tea menu is the first order of business. My jasmine blossoms arrive in a glass tea pot, while my friend opts for frothy green matcha-mai cha. Then come the finger sandwiches, which appear and then swiftly disappear three times. Somehow, the table for two soon faces the siege of champagne glasses; tea pots and their accessories; and a three-tiered tower of desserts.
Nothing can stop us from eating each and every pastry from its station on the plates, which are like miniature painters’ palates: berry scones, chocolate-ganache layered cakes and fruity treats in red and yellow. Though we ate in no rush, the courses came and went with ease, making our slow rise from the couch feel that much more impossible. Naturally, we lounged as long as the Mirror Room would let us.