After recovering from our room-induced aneurism, where the treatment was to look through every drawer and cubby of the room, we began to ready ourselves casually for brunch.
The reservation was for 12:30 pm but there was absolutely no rush. That is how the “real” brunches work here. They are relaxed, decadent, and in the middle of the day. Some people brunch at night like dark corner street rats, but for those like us who brunch at the Ritz, we brunch in the light of day for all to see. We are not ashamed to let our brilliance shine. When we brunch, we brunch well. We do not brunch from chintzy tin metal containers that slide open to find trays full of lukewarm mashed potatoes or chicken fingers. We brunch with minimal effort and maximum reward.
Our meat is carved from fifteen kilo racks of lamb and thirty kilo filets of beef – and certainly not by our own hands. Our oysters are chilled and iced, our lobsters are pre-split, and salmon is cured to perfection. If I have to even think about doing more than carrying my freshly pan-seared scallops to my table I’d rather just forego the whole meal altogether. I could go on, but again, I’d rather not waste my precious energy. Look at the pictures below if you need an idea of what true class looks like. I shan’t waste another breathe.
And if you desire greater insight into what the upper-echelon experience on a daily basis, continue reading Part 3: The Room Service.