Betty's Restaurants in York - Lonely Planet Travel Information

Address
St Helen's Sq, city centre
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Phone
659142

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Lonely Planet review

Afternoon tea, old-school style, in a Yorkshire institution. Hardly surprising that most of the people in the fast-moving queue are of the older generations. Still, it's a bit of class, especially after 18:00 , when the pianist adds colour to the proceedings.

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Three things are pretty much guaranteed each time we go to York. Firstly, we zip through the time-portal that is the Jorvic Centre. Secondly, a row (usually centring around the one-way system and my inability to follow a map without turning it 90 degrees each time we turn a corner). Thirdly, “make-up cake” in the form of a visit to Betty’s. I was brought up never to be daunted by a doiley, so each time I go, it is with a frisson of raspberry jam-fuelled excitement. Queuing for Betty’s takes on a form of a finely orchestrated military campaign. We normally aim to get there, in spite of the one-way system, by about 11 am, before we are man-handled out of the way by Zimmer-frames and lavender water. After an acceptable 20 min wait, we are taken by a Nippy to our table. Betty’s understands the importance of providing a table with sufficient space for bags, tea, accoutrements and spent crockery. I do not hold with balancing a bread plate on my knee. The tea comes. In a tea ceremony significantly shorter than anything Japanese, we are, after all, up North now, the tea is stirred, the lid lifted, the steam admired, the question asked “Mif or Tif?”, and the first taste is supped. As it scalds its way down my throat, I give the traditional appreciation of a murmured “Aaaah!”. The tea-pot is replenished and the food arrives. Kipper for himself (although unfortunately not Fortune’s – not everything is perfect). I have the Rösti; creamy, cheesy, crispy, and so hot you have to eat it whilst making gibbon noises. How can they can get it so hot without involving some kind of thermonuclear reaction? We play a quick game of “Whose had their hair done special?”, before we move indulgently onto the cakes and scones. We leave, smiling (victoriously) at the people in the queue on the way out. No visit to York is complete without a trip to Betty’s. Though maybe you could forgo the row beforehand.