How Much Is Afternoon Tea At The Ritz In London

So, you want to know how much a spot of afternoon tea at The Ritz in London will set you back. Let’s just say you might want to sell a kidney—or at least skip the avocado toast for a month. As of 2025, the standard afternoon tea will cost you £78 per person (that’s roughly $98 USD). But wait, there’s a catch: if you want the champagne upgrade (because who goes to The Ritz for tap water?), you’re looking at £96 per person.

That’s right—you’re paying about the price of a nice steak dinner for a tiny triangle sandwich and a scone that’s the size of a toddler’s fist. And don’t even think about sneaking in a second scone unless you’ve got a trust fund. But hey, you’re not just paying for the food; you’re paying for the experience of pretending you own a monocle and a corgi.

Let’s break it down, shall we? For £78, you get a three-tiered silver stand of finger sandwiches (think cucumber, smoked salmon, and egg mayonnaise, all with the crusts violently removed), a warm scone with clotted cream and jam, and a selection of miniature pastries that look like they were designed by a tiny pastry architect. You also get a pot of tea—but don’t expect Lipton. This is proper tea, served in a silver pot that weighs more than your soul after the bill arrives.

Now, the surprising fact: despite the eye-watering price, The Ritz serves over 500,000 afternoon teas every year. That’s a lot of people who are either rich, delusional, or just really, really love cucumber sandwiches. And get this—you have to book months in advance. Yes, you need to plan your scone-eating mission like it’s a moon landing. Walk-ins? Forget it. They’ll laugh you out of the lobby while polishing a chandelier shaped like a dragon.

But let’s talk about the dress code, because this is where the fun really begins. The Ritz insists on smart casual at the very least, but for afternoon tea, they strongly recommend a jacket and tie for men, and no jeans or trainers for anyone. Translation: you will be wearing your most uncomfortable trousers while pretending you’re in a 1930s Agatha Christie novel. I’ve seen grown men sweat through their collars trying to get the knot just right.

And the tea itself? You can choose from 18 different blends, including a “Royal Blend” that apparently was a favorite of Queen Mary. I tried it once, and I’m pretty sure it tastes exactly like normal tea, but with extra snobbery. The staff will pour it for you with a straight face, as if you’re doing brain surgery, not drinking a brown liquid from a fancy cup.

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Now, the sandwiches. Oh, the sandwiches. You get five types, each one a microscopic masterpiece. The cucumber sandwich, my friends, is the ultimate test of patience. It’s a single slice of cucumber on buttery bread, and it costs about £5.60 per bite. I’ve eaten more satisfying things from a vending machine at 2 AM. But somehow, in the gilded, mirrored Palm Court, it tastes like royalty.

If you’re feeling extra (and have a spare £150 burning a hole in your pocket), you can go for the “Ritz Celebration Tea,” which includes a glass of Laurent-Perrier rosé champagne and a few extra pastries. At that point, you’re not eating; you’re making a statement. The statement is: “I have too much money, and I’m not afraid to use it to eat miniature cakes while wearing a tie.”

But here’s the kicker: the experience is genuinely magical. I’m not joking. The piano player will serenade you with classic tunes, the waiters will call you “Sir” or “Madam” with such sincerity you’ll start looking for your lost country manor, and the chandeliers will make you feel like you’re inside a giant diamond. The trick is to embrace the absurdity and eat every single crumb with theatrical delight.

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One more surprising fact: The Ritz’s afternoon tea was first served in 1906, and the menu has barely changed. That means you’re eating the exact same cucumber sandwich that Alfred Hitchcock might have nibbled on in 1935. (Okay, he probably had two, because he was a big guy.) The price, however, has changed: back in 1906, it cost two shillings, which is about £10 in today’s money. Inflation, you monster.

So, should you go? Absolutely—once. Treat it like a pilgrimage. Save up, book three months in advance, buy a cheap second-hand jacket on eBay, and prepare to spend £100+ for 90 minutes of eating food that could fit in a single cup. Will you leave hungry? Yes. Will you leave poorer? Definitely. But will you have a story about the time you ate a scone with the ghosts of British aristocracy while a pianist played “Fly Me to the Moon”? You bet your clotted cream you will.

Just remember: no “trainers”. And for heaven’s sake, don’t ask for a takeaway box. They’ll revoke your afternoon tea license for life.