Emily V.
Yelp
Tipple and Rose
Expecting an intimate tea room, perhaps a cozy fire, a few tables for two with upholstered chairs, and subdued lighting, I found myself in a mall-sized display room brimming with tea-themed bibelots and tchotchkes. My companion was waiting, so, noting the time on my parking meter, we made our way through the panoply of products to the counter where a sweet faced young woman welcomed us with a warm smile. Yes, we were here for tea and lunch.
We were invited to choose from a variety of seating in 4 areas... right up front amid the displays, in the dusky middle room where a dozen tables wore bright white cloths, further back in a sunny logia with blood red banquettes, or the "cottage", another space in Tipple's expanding landscape. We opted for a table by the window in the loggia, somewhat private/cozy, and my friend went back to tell Warm Smile where we were. I was taking off my jacket when he came back to say I must return to the mall to order my tea.
Introduced to the byzantine business of choosing our brew, we were handed a dog-eared 5 page paper menu which barely made sense when Warm Smile walked us through the letter and number codes referring to the sample tea tins on the counter; at least 75 of them. Once we found an appealing description of tea on the single-spaced typed menu, we were invited to match the color-coded letters and numbers to one of the small tins on the counter display. Encouraged to sniff the tea before choosing, I demurred, preferring not to stick my nose where others had already sniffed. I chose a Chai at random and was told to write its number on the tiny Post-it notepad on the counter. I was really ready for a cup of tea (or something stronger) after this convoluted process, so we were thankful to take our seats in the sunny window, facing Moore St.
I was happy to give up the padded banquette to my companion (hip issues), but disappointed that the seat facing is was a hard, cold, metal chair without a trace of comfort. Why this harsh dichotomy of style and substance? Turns out, that's the central dilemma of Tipple and Rose:
The teapots arrived first, on individual trays, with cups, warming salvers, and an adorable hourglass to remind us when we could pour our tea. Of course, we were well into our conversation, so didn't notice that our time had 'run out' ; but we poured our tea, then hunted around the room for accoutrements. None were offered, such as lemon, cream, sugar .... 'Nuttin' honey!". But there was a bowl of Sugar in the Raw packets close by, so we sweetened and drank.
The tea was fine and we enjoyed our choices from the multi-paged sandwich, scone, & soup menu: good bread, tiny side salad... it was the high point of our visit. While we ate, a handful of diners arrived, but the main room remained empty, as did the "cottage". So when a waitress arrived with our bill (which we had not summoned) we both felt a little bum's-rushed. Fortunately, we were having a lovely overdue chat, so were more amused than offended. But still, feeling stressed in a tea room is not what one expects, Dear Reader.
We were instructed to take our tab up front for payment, like a diner instead of a downtown Princeton restaurant where we had just spent over $50 for two sandwiches and tea. My friend offered his credit card, and was guided through the process of tapping... no, sliding... no, inserting it in the machine. He waited to finish and sign, but the transaction was over. "I wanted to add in a tip". He said. Oh, not to worry, an 18% gratuity is automatically added. How convenient.