The Savoy Hotel in London Seems to Have Started it All
Maybe The Savoy is all that. But it is a bit of civilized tradition cloistered and surrounded by an army of Dunkin Donuts, Pizza Huts, and jacket potatoes. Dozens of homeless sleep under Waterloo Bridge within view of the restaurant but the rich and powerful from five continents meet here to drink $7 cups of coffee and eat $200 dinners. While people shiver in doorways across the street, the restroom attendant has the basin filled with warm water after you’ve finished you business. He or she provides a fresh towel for your hands. Your shoulders are given a quick brush as you discreetly drop the semi-mandatory one-pound coin in the dish. Does Inland Revenue (offices just up the street) audit these people? Sally Struthers could feed a family of 6 for a month on the money my companion and I left in the loo during our dinner.
The Savoy was opened in August of 1889. I believe some of the original guests still eat there. We were seated next to a peculiar trio. A hundred year-old Italian count was flanked by two aging, bleached, gold-plated, barebacked bimbos. They took turns cutting his meat and spooning his veggies. All the time, their eyes were on each other. It was humorous to watch them try to read the bill at the end of the meal. Neither wanted to take out reading glasses and admit that their ing�©nue days and nights had faded long before their eyesight.
Let’s talk turkey, or at least food. First, the service is elegant, if not over-attentive. I know if you’re a 90 year-old count, service can never be over-attentive. Since there seems to be a serving station for every three tables and six employees assigned to each table, there was always someone checking on my water, my wine, my food, my dishes, the lighting, the heating, and the comfort of my underwear.
The waiters are mostly Italian or French. I was suspicious of one French accent that seems to have escaped from a Pink Panther film. Oh, the food. Right. Let’s get to the food.
We tried the complete dinner for thirty-five pounds. It included a selection of five appetizers, five main courses, vegetables, and dessert. Actually, a good value at this price in London even though you might not associate value with The Savoy.
My anti-establishment, revolutionary, sixties soul would like to trash The Savoy. Truthfully, I plan to return on every visit to London. I’ve eaten from Sydney to Nairobi and haven’t had better meal.
A former director once said of The Savoy’s never compromise attitude, “We believe that standardization is not part of true hotel keeping. A hotel must be a haven with its own personality, traditions and history, identifying completely with its surroundings. The secret of our success lies in having managers with flair, virtuoso chefs and waiters, receptionists with understanding of their guests, and professionals at every level who know how to attend to the smallest detail without being obtrusive.”
A stunning refurbishment in 2003 has re-established the splendor and elegance of the d�©cor. And chef Marcus Wareing has guided the cuisine on a course to obtain the award of One Michelin Star.
My companion had foie gras wrapped in corn pancakes Like a Dickens character, she held up her plate to the waiter and asked for more, please. I started with cream of pea soup with smoked quail. The quail is a genius stroke. It adds body and flavor without that typically greasy, overbearing, plebeian taste of ham. Of course, we had two trays full of Melba toast to accompany our starters. I don’t even pause by the Melba toast in my corner grocery store, but it seemed obligatory here where it was invented.
I had another appetizer as my main course. The salmon wrapped around a scallop in saffron sauce sounded tasty and I thought it would be a good test for the chef or at least my taste buds. The scallop couldn’t have been done better. Even an experienced cook can easily misuse saffron. This spice surrendered pleasantly to the skill in The Savoy kitchen. My tongue was thankful.
The roast duck with applesauce and sage stuffing gave up its bones as the meat was shredded near our table. We had just spent the previous two evenings eating duck at The Gay Hussar, famous for its duck. I can’t help it, The Savoy’s duck was the best-in London, in the known world, or as far as Captain Jean Luc Picard and the Starship Enterprise has been. Warp 9 to The Savoy, and make it so.
The busy serving stations were always in commotion. I enjoyed watching them. There was a waiter, a chief, a sub-waiter, a penultimate waiter, a matre d’ or two gathering around a table of tureens, platters, bodies of fish and foul.
Don’t be fooled by the desserts. They sound ordinary, at least for this quality restaurant. Ah, simple perfection comes to mind. We each sampled three desserts and couldn’t imagine them prepared or presented any better. My favorite was a simple yet marvelous nut and honey mousse on an orange sauce. Top this with espresso and candy coated gooseberries the size of golf balls and you can wheel me home and fee me diet drinks for the next month.
If you’re a plumbing contractor from Parsippany, New Jersey, the matre d’ may not give you the table of your choice, but try The Savoy anyway. The food doesn’t get any better than this. Maybe after the revolution, we’ll have to make an exception and keep The Savoy.
Dinners at the Savoy are about $70 and up. There are 200 rooms and suites that go for around $500 up to $3000. Email: savoy@fairmont.com or call 44 20 7836 4343.
The Savoy opened its doors in 1889. Thankfully, there were floors and ceilings and walls behind those doors. Besides coming with full electric lighting, the hotel incorporated 67 baths. The legends Cesar Ritz and Auguste Escoffier oversaw the changes and refinements which attracted the legends of the times: Sarah Bernhardt, Lily Langtry, Dame Nellie Melba, Edward VII, and so many others from politics, theatre, arts, and commerce. Of course a hotel with exacting standards that ranged from perfect to perfect, even required the roasting of their own coffee and the construction of their own furniture.
If you wanted to throw a party in London, The Savoy was where the beautiful and wealthy threw their parties. One of the most famous was the Gondola dinner, hosted by champagne millionaire and financier George Kessler in 1905. Venice was recreated in the forecourt, lit by 400 Venetian lamps, a silk-lined gondola decorated with 12,000 fresh carnations, and arias sung by Caruso.
Winston Churchill, Eleanor Roosevelt, Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip have all wandered the lobby and halls of The Savoy. Liz Taylor and her first husband spent the first night of their honeymoon at The Savoy. Singers from Enrico Caruso to Elton John have sung in the showers of The Savoy.
In the 1990s, millions was poured into the Savoy to insure it was up to its former standard – – that standard being nothing short of perfection. Even if you don’t even know where in the world The Savoy is, somehow those two words have become part of the Western subconscious and everyone knows that The Savoy stands for class.
For those who don’t want to rub elbows with Italian royalty in the main dining areas, you can reserve “the chef’s table” situated in the heart of the kitchen. Up to eight diners can talk to the chef about the ingredients and be served a personalized menu chosen in consultation with the chef. Prices start at about $1100 for lunch and $1400 for dinner. But that includes canapÃ?©s, a glass of champagne, coffee and chocolates.
