Copyright: Aske Munck
At the end of the imposing palm flanked driveway a two metre tall turban toting usher bows slightly and greets us with a wide smile, gleaming whitely from underneath his impressively lush and twirled black mustachio.
You know that you’re in for a luxury treat when you enter The Imperial Hotel – the Indian capital’s most luxurious address. And what better place to dive into a high tea – this truly brilliant remnant of a long gone British colonial era – than The Imperial Hotel?
We stroll along the marbled floors, past the in-house Chanel boutique and the numerous artefacts and antiques exhibited throughout the premises and turn right to enter the restaurant ‘1911’, aptly named after the year in which New Delhi became the capital of India. The hotel, however, was built much later, in 1931 and stands as one of the cornerstones of the exuberant heritage left by the British.
Copyright: Aske Munck
We actually came for the renowned high tea, but we quickly skip the set tea menu – as we are told it is only served in the somewhat stuffy covered atrium bar – and opt for our own à la carte version of this long standing Brit-tradition in order to be able to enjoy it from the restaurant’s superbly shaded veranda, where you have a great view over the lush lawn (what’s the point of lounging indoors when the Delhi winter is like a northern European summer, anyway?).
We choose a green tea and a masala tea from the house selection, and a few minutes later a waiter appears wearing a bright red and freshly starched uniform with two rows of shiny brass buttons. He pours the tea from small silvery pots with quilted shoulder sheaths, covering the handle so you’re able to refill yourself without burning your hands.
Around us the well to do-Indians are enjoying their Sunday, and a couple of children are playing football with a half-empty water bottle, and a middle-aged man in a dark jacket, turquoise turban and riding boots is bragging about this afternoon’s polo-achievements to some friends.
Copyright: Aske Munck
We sip the wonderfully spicy tea and tug into our crème brûlée and sandwiches, whilst ogling the continuous stream of newcomers through the imposing colonnade.
The subtle chatter from the many tables is brought to an abrupt end when a waiter stumbles and drops a bowl filled with a yellowish substance onto one of the guests. Immediately four other waiters come to his rescue, and within two minutes the unfortunate ‘victim’ is directed to the changing room, carrying a crisp white shirt he can wear while they speed clean his own shirt. Luxury does really make a difference.
THE IMPERIAL HOTEL; Janpath, New Delhi 110001.
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