Afternoon Tea at The Dorchester: Mayfair, Sunday July 3rd, 2011

Birthday surprises can be a wonderful thing. I am part of that interestingly large group of people who say "I don't like surprises", in that I like to be prepared for things most of the time. Given how the other half and I roll, we do our fair share of surprises for each other, sometimes to a restaurant. As nice as this is, I know we're both worried when we hear of a surprise trip to eat out. 'Am I dressed correctly?' 'What's the menu like?' 'Would I have picked somewhere else, given the choice?'

Fortunately, we know each other well. Thanks to a failed attempt to disguise the venue's identity from me, I knew we were having tea at The Dorchester long before the day came around. I certainly wasn't unhappy at the prospect. The night before, we'd enjoyed a lovely meal in my favourite restaurant, with these two events kick-starting some extended birthday celebrations for me, all of which involved food in some way.

As per usual with the Sunday nearest my birthday, it was men's final day at Wimbledon. I am not a huge tennis fan but I do love a good match. As it turned out, I missed one of the great matches in the modern era, Novak Djokovic establishing himself as the pre-eminent force of modern tennis. There was certainly pressure on The Dorchester this particular Sunday afternoon.

They had decided to embrace the spectacle with Wimbledon-themed decorations and a menu to match for the duration of the tournament. Perusing the card, we both opted for the lawn tennis afternoon tea, which might have felt a bit ridiculous if we had been anywhere other than the Promenade at The Dorchester.

The Promenade itself is basically the lobby. It's a seemingly endless passageway of flowers, low lights, tables, aching furniture and subdued buzz. It's not wholly welcoming to be honest, but that does often happen with top-end hotels wherever you're eating. We sat at our table and quite reasonably expected to be impressed.

The lawn tennis menu was essentially their usual tea set with an added course of strawberries and cream. I found this out after I ordered, which was a bit of a mistake on my part since I'm not fond of strawberries (or much fruit). Mind you, if anywhere is supposed to have good strawberries, this is probably the next best bet after Wimbledon itself.

We got things going (as ever) with sandwiches. Finger sandwiches with afternoon tea are so exquisitely old-fashioned and ridiculous that you can't help but love them. So nonsensically cut, trimmed and laid out, they represent the upper class societal tradition of England's heritage, as opposed to the 'waste not, want not' that many of us are familiar with.

Of course, along with all this poncery, they ought to be bloody good sandwiches. Anything else and you're in a world of trouble. Particularly at Mayfair hotel prices. These were good enough (left). The classics - smoked salmon, egg & cress, cream cheese & cucumber - were all thinly refined yet flavoursome. The components were all there, nothing was overwhelmed and they slipped down rather comfortably.

The sandwich course was dominated by two meat sandwiches which weren't quite so typically afternoon tea: a roast beef, horseradish & rocket and a chicken with mustard mayonnaise on basil bread. The first was a proper English sandwich: cold meat, minimal fuss with a classic combination tying it all in. Rare beef too which is a must. The latter was a divine treat. The idea of basil bread was exceptional, making the whole thing slightly peppery and fruity, a sudden treat for all the senses.

As with most good afternoon teas (and all expensive ones), they offered us a second round of sandwiches which we selectively accepted. (Another round of all of them would have been too much by half.) One thing that surprised me about afternoon tea at the Promenade was that they didn't stack the tea in the traditional way: it was served as a meal. At first I was a little suspicious but it does make sense: if people are paying to enjoy excellent sandwiches and fresh pastries and cakes, why let their food go stale or force them to rush through the meal?

Before we moved to the 'dessert' section of the menu - I don't truly believe you can separate afternoon tea courses as rigidly as with normal food - we were given a little pre-dessert of vanilla panna cotta with hibiscus jelly (right). The jelly was divine: a sweet delight on top of a pretty ordinary pudding. I'm afraid this was a let-down. Bad panna cotta is awful - there is no halfway house here - and I didn't much enjoy it.

Then came our strawberries and cream (left). Fortunately I could tolerate these for the most part. They were soft and sweet, rather than the usual hard tarteness I associate with fresh strawberries. I couldn't quite get through my bowl but I was content that these were clearly above average. The other half is far more into strawberries than I and she loved them. Maybe pay attention to her at this point: "very fresh and sweet".

Scones next and this was where I got rather excited. I have an unhealthy obsession with scones and these were predictably excellent (right). Even though I like my scones chunky and substantial, I had to marvel at the miniature delights that were put in front of us. It was real king and country tradition here: one plain, one raisin, strawberry jam and cream. They weren't the best scones I've ever eaten but they fit perfectly and precisely into what was fast becoming an outstanding tea.

On to pastries. They had continued the tennis theme with their sweet stuff by making a financier in the shape of a tennis ball and a brownie in the shape of a tennis court. It was a very nice touch, especially as people expect a bit of a show when they're paying serious money for food. I was more concerned about the taste, and I can tell you that the cakes were worth the fuss (left).

The vanilla mousse financier with raspberry jam was light, yet packed a thick, full-flavoured punch. The brownie, coloured green with white tramlines, was moist and rich. Elsewhere, the raspberry macaroon had that amazing ethereal quality that great macaroons have: crunch giving way to meringue-esque dissolution, finally resolving with a heavenly chewiness. A choux pastry bun with cream was as it should be: sweet and rich. A frangipane tart with berries added some lively red colour and was tasty enough to merit its place.

That, I thought, was that. But there was a small surprise in store as the live pianist broke into a round of Happy Birthday and I was presented with a delightful little square chocolate cake with candles (right). It was a touching gesture from the other half and a great representation of tea at The Dorchester: classy, understated, special and enjoyable.

It is probably the best afternoon tea you can eat in London. It won't cost you the moon. It is perfect for a special occasion (so well done the other half and yes, if you're wondering, it was a fine - if botched - surprise) and I would recommend it to anyone who loves a decent afternoon tea next to Hyde Park.

Afternoon tea at The Dorchester