Tuesday 19 January 2010

Tony's Tea Shoppe



First of all, a big thank you to Robbie for getting the photos to me on cue.
The story of Tony’s Tea Shoppe would certainly not be complete without photographic evidence – and when we went, the battery on my camera had just died.

Tony’s Tea Shoppe is what they call an institution. People I met in Harare, who had never even been to the Vumba, asked me if I’d been to Tony’s. It’s not hard to see why. Tony’s is an extremely stylish and extremely expensive establishment that wouldn’t be out of place in London. In the middle of the Eastern Highlands of Zimbabwe, it certainly sticks out.

Tony himself reminded me of a Siamese cat. (This is a compliment – I like Siamese cats.) He has a triangular brown face and very sharp blue eyes. He sits at a table by a window where he can see people coming and going as he works on a crossword puzzle. Robbie and I were put through our conversational paces for about ten minutes before, with a queenly nod, we were directed to a table.

The tea shoppe is in the upper level of a house that blends modern and traditional African architecture: a thatched, peaked roof, plastered wooden frame, polished wooden floors. Inside the theme is Africa-meets-Chinoiserie, with beautifully upholstered chairs and menu (which Tony made himself).

The menu includes many delicious cakes, many kinds of coffee, tea, hot chocolate and several kinds of booze with which to lace your coffee, tea, hot chocolate or cake. Part of the experience is having Tony declaim the kinds of cake he has - I will never forget hearing him roll the phrase 'creme chantilly'. We ordered ginger lemonade to start, then Robbie had orange and coconut cake with chocolate sauce,

while I had Viennese coffee cake with a meringue and almond topping. Oh, and tea.

Please note the expression on my face, which, then and now, I can only describe as lustful:

And the cakes didn’t disappoint. The coffee cake was moist (helped along by a generous soaking of brandy – no I didn’t order extra, it came like this) and though I (and it) didn’t really needed the cream and meringue topping I managed to choke it down … in about three minutes. The Zimbabwean Tanganda tea, served in a silver pot with bone china cups, was perfect.

And Tony himself was, if you’ll forgive the terrible cliché, the icing on the cake.

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