HOTEL coffee shops are great fun. You can get anything at any hour. The people-watching entertains, and the menus cater to every taste.
In Hong Kong especially, coffee shops (also called cafes) offer the world on a plate: a cheeseburger and sushi, a sirloin steak and Thai curry, a Caesar salad, Cantonese fried rice and a chocolate sundae. Where else could eight diners, following a clean-and-lean Japanese meal, go for a dessert pig-out after midnight? Coffee shops here have various guises: the creamy brightness of the Mandarin's genteel coffee shop where tai-tais mix with tourists, and high tea for one is a pleasure as rich as rose petal jam. Getting to the Cultural Centre on time for curtain-up is a snap at the Regent: their platoon of bus boys and waiters scurry so fast, you chew faster.
Reservations are necessary during peak hours at the Grand Hyatt's cafe where watching a sunset over the Harbour from the Cecil B. de Mille set is pure Hong Kong. A window seat at the Hilton's coffee shop with its window panes and bevelled glass windows reminds me of being in a home, not a hotel.
The Cafe at the Ritz Carlton is harder to identify, let alone feel a kinship for. It confuses with multiple personalities. While the staff are warm and professional, the dining room is cold and dreary, and usually empty. What seems an attempt to be an English gentlemen's club with Chinese antiques and botanical prints doesn't make it.
This hotel has all the convenience of Central. The meals were good but not outstanding. When compared to the other five-star competition, you pay as much, or sometimes more, for less.
The Cafe requires a lift ride from the main lobby. But passing through the street-level foyer with its grey walls, sparkle-less chandelier and heavy drapery is hardly uplifting.
