Ms May
Google
BEAVERTON, Ore. — There is something undeniably enchanting about stepping into **ClockWork Rose Tea Emporium**, a whimsical haven where Victorian elegance meets steampunk flair. From the moment you cross the threshold, the atmosphere envelops you in its spell—ornate teapots, delicate lace, and the soft murmur of conversation beneath the gentle clinking of fine china. The service, too, is impeccable: attentive, warm, and just formal enough to make you feel as though you’ve slipped into a bygone era of genteel leisure.
And yet, for all its charm, the experience is ultimately undermined by the most crucial element of any tea room—the food.
The sandwiches, a staple of any proper afternoon tea, arrived disappointingly dry, their fillings lackluster and sparing. The scones, which should be the crowning glory of such a spread, were dense and crumbly, missing that essential balance of crisp exterior and tender interior. Even the clotted cream and jam—usually a saving grace—couldn’t rescue them. As for the desserts, they were passable but forgettable, lacking the artistry and flavor one might expect from a place that otherwise excels in aesthetic detail.
It’s a shame, really. ClockWork Rose has clearly poured its heart into crafting an immersive experience, and the tea selection itself is very impressive, with fragrant, well-steeped offerings that delight the senses. But the food fails to match the elegance of the surroundings.
For now, this tea emporium remains a lovely spot for ambiance and service alone—but unless the kitchen undergoes a reinvention, it risks becoming little more than a beautiful shell, all style and no substance.