Babington's Tea Rooms, Rome

It may seem odd for me to be visiting an English tea room in Rome.

I decided to make an exception to the rule with Babington's because it has become an established and significant part of Roman culture.

You'll find it at the foot of the Spanish steps on the other side to the Keats-Shelley Museum- the house where Keats died. Lord Byron also lived on the Piazza di Spagna.

Babington's was founded in 1893 by two English women of 'good families' - Anna Maria Babington and Isabel Cargill - who moved to Rome with the express purpose of opening a tea room for the English community.

At the time, England's wealthy young people would still have been going on the Grand Tour of Europe - and in Rome tea could only be bought at chemist shops.

The idea proved so successful, the owners moved after a year from their first premises in Via Due Macelli (Two Slaughterhouses) to the present location - a prestigious 18th century building.

The Spanish Steps are one of Rome's largest tourist attractions, and the first week of January when we stayed was no exception. Visitors thronged on the staircase and clambered on the Barcaccia fountain to be photographed.

The fountain, carved by the father of sculptor Bernini of Trevi fountain fame, is shaped like a barge to commemorate a Christmas Day flood 1598 that washed a boat from the Tiber to that point.

We did do the tourist thing - climbed the steps to the church at the top and admired the view of the city's rooftops. But it was quite a relief to leave the hordes and enter genteel world of the two Victorian ladies.

The tea rooms were low lit with lamps and chandeliers, the powerful winter sunlight having been blocked with blinds. Thick carpets muffled all sound. It was as quiet as a library.

You enter through a shop selling fine teas, coffees and chocolates and all the paraphenalia that go with them.

We sat on a raised area above this.

Two plump, elderly Italian waitresses, one short, one taller, dressed in black skirts and white shirts were serving.

The shorter, dark haired one handed us a menu which included English snacks and lunches straight from the English Drawing Room - muffins, tea cakes, 'Scottish' scones, cinnamon toast, apple crumble, eggs benedict. And, of course, pages of teas.

But just as she was about to take our order, she let out a gasp and fled into the kitchen at the back.

The other waitress busied herself with tasks, while, bemused, Spooky and I re-examined the menu and gazed round at the decor, wondering what we'd done.


Babington's has a distinct air of regality - crown shaped chandeliers and a 'royal blend' of tea - one which was apparently gifted to the Queen on her visit to the capital. Although 18th century, the interior seems more early 20th century - dark woodwork combined with plenty of glass and white linen to create simple elegance.

And just to remind customers it is an English tea room, a bowler hat is perched above the till.

Around 15 minutes later, waitress number one returned - and realised our order hadn't been taken.

A barrage of Italian was launched at her taller red-haired colleague.

We were then treated to a puppet show of gesticulation, waving napkins and animated dialogue.

Finally, waitress number one approached our table.

The Yin Shen Imperial White tea, plucked at dawn on only two days a year, was a must for me.

Spooky's eyes popped when he saw the price - 23 Euros.

But, as I pointed out, I don't drink and it was my birthday. This was my 'champagne'.

He ordered Earl Grey at half the price.

The Yin Shen Imperial arrived in a glass infuser mug and looked like a clump of live seaweed writhing on the bottom.

Spooky's Earl Grey meanwhile steeped in a little silver teapot with the signature Babington cat on top, milk and lemon to choose from on the side.

Our waitress gave us strict instructions on how long to allow the teas to brew.

"Cinque" she told me firmly, holding up her hand as if to stop traffic. "Uno", she barked at Spooky, brandishing her digit finger like the sword of an advancing soldier.

And she rushed over precisely five minutes later to remove my infuser from the water.

How was the tea ?

Very delicate and refreshing, although I admit the taste didn't indicate its high pedigree. But then again I tend to drink white tea in bags and in the eyes of the tea room staff probably have the palate of a peasant.

As we left Babington's, a male employee on his way from the kitchen to the shop, balanced a large silver tray of chocolates on one hand, while a female colleague vigorously polished the brass door handle.

English it was - the England of a vanished time, with a bit of Italian eccentricity thrown in.