4 Indispensable Lessons in Hospitality I Learned Working in a British-Style Tearoom

More than clotted cream and fine china, it’s the small, love-driven details that stay with you long after the last sip.

The St. James Tearoom was established to provide a space for rest and reflection in a busy world. Clarissa Anello/Courtesy of The St. James Tearoom

Albuquerque, New Mexico, is not the first place you’d expect to find one of the top tearooms in the country. Yet belied by its adobe exterior, the St. James Tearoom is one of the highest-rated places for British afternoon tea in the United States. But there’s more than just a fine dining experience that makes the spot a hidden gem.

After frequenting St. James for years for an annual, and later monthly, mother-daughter tea, I worked for a time in the tearoom’s shop. I was amazed to discover the extensive behind-the-scenes culture underlying the guests’ experience.

Each morning, we started our day with a meeting to discuss our five aspirations: grace, civility, beauty, gentility, and excellence. We were fueled by the motto: “Duty bids us do things well, but love bids us do things beautifully.”

How does this translate into our efforts to grow in the virtue of hospitality? Quite simply, a love-inspired hospitality is intensely other-focused. It is a worthy aspiration to pursue excellence for its own sake. It is a noble and valiant one to continually decide that our endeavors will spring from love, particularly from love of those we have never met.

Being a part of that endeavor taught me lessons in hospitality I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Here are a few of them.

Pay Attention to the Little Things

When we think of excellence, we often think of casting our gaze up and aiming for the stars, but often we actually achieve it by bringing our attention down to tiny, nonessential things down to the smallest detail. These are what can make someone feel cared for. It is sometimes in the most minute details that the greatest love is shown.

In preparing the rooms at the tearoom, servers spent a great deal of time folding the napkins into little crowns, choosing the most beautiful phrasing to present the menu, and setting the table so there was a sense of not only order, but also art. Offerings of tea, lavender-scented hand towels, and tiered serving trays were precisely timed so that everything was warm and guests never found themselves wanting for anything.

The St. James Tearoom celebrates the art of tea by caring for each detail. Clarissa Anello/Courtesy of The St. James Tearoom

I like to think of aiming for the response, “Even in this!” A guest might think, “Even the place card holders are beautiful,” or “They even wrote a message on the to-go box.”

It reminds me of the care behind a spouse or family member thinking to make us tea or coffee before we wake up in the morning. It shows particular thoughtfulness and attention if they anticipate our needs before we can even voice them or are aware of them ourselves. Loving in these little ways prepares us to love in bigger ways, as our capacity for self-giving expands.

Put Yourself in Someone Else’s Shoes

In an offshoot of the Golden Rule, when it comes to preparing a space, we always kept in mind what experience we were giving the guests upon walking into a room. It required an exercise in empathy, putting ourselves in the guests’ shoes to envision what reaction the space would inspire.

Firstly, we made sure nothing was out of place or messy. But beyond that, we hoped to beautify the space such that their reaction was not just comfort, but delight.

This lesson has particularly stuck with me in my various living situations. I myself enjoy having a clean kitchen, for example, so if I make dinner first, I make sure all traces of my work are gone by the time someone else comes to cook. Or, as I myself enjoy having water ready in the filter to use for my tea, I make sure it’s always filled and ready for the next person.

The rule applies to our interactions with others as well. As guests came into the tearoom, we greeted each one with a ready smile and conducted ourselves so as to let them know we were glad they were there. Regardless of whether we were stressed or running behind or had things on our minds, the guests were never to know that anything was amiss. Any personal worries were eclipsed by selfless concern for the guests’ well-being, as we strove always to welcome them with gentility and civility.

For up to two hours per sitting, the world melts away and guests can enjoy lovely conversations, a novel menu, and comfortable elegance. Clarissa Anello/Courtesy of The St. James Tearoom

Adopt an Abundance Mindset

My mother, never one to be content with a moderate portion of clotted cream on her scone, always asks for a second container, a request that is cheerfully accommodated at St. James. Through such instances, I’ve noticed that a major part of hospitality is having an abundance mindset. The guest should never perceive a shortage of time, tea, or patience. It’s almost as though there’s an illusion of eternity, and a teapot that never runs dry. In reality, we know that our resources are in fact limited, and the seating does only last for two hours. But ideally, the experience will be such that the guest forgets these inconvenient truths.

The creation of this impression largely hinges upon the host’s behavior. No request on the part of any guest is too trivial or too immense, and no sign is ever given that the guest is inconveniencing you or overstaying their welcome.

All of the sweets and sandwiches are handmade on-site by the tearoom's chefs. Clarissa Anello/Courtesy of The St. James Tearoom

One of my friends implements this mindset beautifully in her own home. Not only does she set out an elaborately adorned table—even just for one guest—but she also has an abundance of options for tea and desserts ready on hand in case one of them is not to her guest’s liking. Everything in her extensive preparations, and in her behaving with such grace and deference, makes the guest feel as though their visit does her great honor. Receiving that impression, the guest in turn is profoundly honored that she would consider every detail and go to such lengths just for them.

Love Is in the Particular

Finally, my time at St. James showed me that love is shown in particularity, not in generality. We had a two-hour time frame in which we were able to learn about our guests, and rather than slip into the same behavioral patterns toward each person, we tailored our behavior to let each encounter develop organically.

Each bite of sweets and sip of tea is meant to be savored—an indulgence and respite in the middle of a busy day. Clarissa Anello/Courtesy of The St. James Tearoom

If we learned that someone was there for a birthday, or if they were having a difficult day, or if they were celebrating something in their life, we would do our best to surprise them with something above and beyond the usual experience—maybe a sachet of tea to take home, or an extra of their favorite dessert. In so doing, we tried to show that they were valued in their individuality and weren’t just another face in the crowd.

Of the many teas we served at the tearoom, each one had its own precise steeping time that would fully bring out all of its flavor. Some of the teas we called “princess teas,” because they were unforgiving in their steeping time; a few seconds more or less would lose a great deal of flavor. I find that people are similar. If you learn how to tailor your behavior to each one, learning how best to accommodate their needs, you will experience the full “flavor” of their character and individuality. There’s no greater reward for your service.