The Drawing Room

Exquisite Teas in Luxurious Ambience

Strolling into The Drawing Room at Brown’s Hotel, I was entirely prepared for an odyssey through over-eastablished London sophistication, complete with afternoon teas that tantalise every Briton's palate narrative. My scepticism was short-lived as I revered the chorus of enthusiastic "Lefter!" emanating from fellow praise-worthy reviews online. As it turns out, chatter of him isn’t unwarranted—Lefter brings forth service precision with that elusive balance of attentiveness and invisibility, alongside accomplished cohorts such as Julia and the uncanny spot-hitting Xhulieta. Their patient navigations through my dietary dysfunctions—sustenance sans gluten and the forbidden coconut—makes you almost forget how you’re plotting to replicate their graciousness in your less accommodating workplace.

Studies into open-palmed graciousness aside, the realisation of the cast-iron allure here is engaged by their extensive tea repertoire. It's a soulful labyrinth worth exploring, each brew serving both its idiosyncratic character and pre-conceived archetype, smashing through any so-called trials of trendy teas-culture hits miss. Top this off with a harp of mellow baking symphony disguised as sandwiches and tartlets, and you’ll verily question why anyone would willfully opt for a catwalk heat on Westminster Bridge instead. Agatha Christie's haunt beckons as does a delicate, aspirational smile behind yet resort-ready hands so hospitably free-whisper who your hotel compatriots are. Price judgments should likely make room for a dapper fusion of history daring decor wrapped up in unrivalled recital of hospitality—the kind which barely stoops as mere formality. Yes, even when vexed visitors choose to squeeze negative repartees down a draughty vent grate. Endearingly, Brown’s is cushioning graces crafted infallibly, almost achieving the miraculous—a point even an ardent critic might succumb to rock-climb redemption. — Penelope Savory