It was a cool, pleasant evening in Madrid. One by one, the great diversity of the city’s architecture enchanted us as we strolled to our destination – the lavishly grand Ritz hotel, located in the “golden triangle” of culture, right across the famous Prado. We were headed there to celebrate a special occasion on the terrace of its iconic restaurant.

The story of the Ritz Madrid is pretty simple.

Alfonso XIII, photo by Christian Franzen

A little over than a century ago, young Alfonso XIII of Spain traveled around Europe, shortly before his marriage to Victoria Eugenia, granddaughter of Queen Victoria. It was La Belle Époque in Europe, and luxury was of the utmost priority. He realized that unlike the other great European empires, his capital lacked a hotel that was truly fit to host royalty.

The king wanted to restore the grandeur of his country’s once great empire. Since childhood, he was deeply embarrassed by his country’s defeat in The Spanish American War (1898), and wanted to show off Spain’s power to both his friends, his enemies and, of course, his new wife. For him, that meant outdoing the luxury of both the Ritz in Paris and the Ritz in London.

He financed the project himself – Madrid’s powerful elite ran to invest money, of course – and the result was The Ritz Madrid. Everyone from Ernest Hemingway to The Prince of Monaco and his wife, Grace Kelly to Eva Gardner and Madonna were once guests at the hotel.

We stayed in another Hotel nearby and when the Ritz maitre’d’hotel was checking our reservation and learned that we were “From across the Square”, he proudly exclaimed, very convincingly – “Next time you should stay here. Our place is the best”. Thanks. Next time, perhaps.

There are two ways to enter the Ritz restaurant from the Passeo del Prado. The shorter way is through the fancy Ritz garden, which looks especially beautiful at night.  We went another way – taking the main entrance through a glamorously furnished enfilade of lobbies and sitting rooms.

As we walked through the ornately decorated hotel, we were transported to another era, an era reserved for the aristocracy of the past. We felt as though we were guests on the Titanic. No, better yet, we were invited to one of Gatsby’s parties, the lucky few to taste such splendor albeit for only a brief moment, but one that would last forever.

At our table, we were greeted by our witty, sarcastic, yet very warm and friendly waiter, eager to guide us through a wide assortment of elegantly prepared royal delicacies. We already had one in mind. Ritz, or not – in Spain we like to start with Iberian jamon, as the first appetizer. Setting the enormous plate of paper-thin, almost transparent slices in the middle of the table, our waiter moved in closer, pointing to the parade of silverware in front of each of us and softly declared – “In Spain even the King eats jamon with his bare hands!” We heard this many times already; this was not our first jamon.

The sound of gentle blues coming from a grand piano at the center of the veranda, filled the air, adding to the atmosphere which enveloped us from start to finish – from appetizers to desserts.

Taking the last bite of our sweet and savory pastries, we noticed a couple of ladies who were here for their evening cup of tea. They were dressed in a way that would be, lets say, strange in any places of today’s world, except the theater scene, but was very appropriate to the Titanic era atmosphere and the furniture of the Ritz. It seemed as though they have been sitting there, slowly sipping their tea since the hotel was founded, a century ago.

We thought of the bygone ages of the old European empires, and how, for a short time, we traveled into another epoch – a perfect illustration of a gilded age. It wasn’t just about the exquisitely prepared food or the opulent decoration, but about how they all came together to create a perfect atmosphere of a time long gone.

We felt history! We felt The Great Gatsby. That night, we traveled through time. And so did our bellies.