we blinked as we re-entered the sunny sunday. we’d been hiding out in the dim cavern that is the london BMI IMAX cinema, wearing dark glasses, stretching our hands out towards the floating cheshire cat. “alice in wonderland”, in 3D, was a rollicking rollercoaster ride — in spite of the curious bit of freaky styley dancing at the end — but after a couple of contraband movie snacks, we were ready for the main event.

a short way across town, upstairs at fortnum and mason, there is a restaurant called, the parlour. it’s a decadent ice cream shoppe straight out of the 50s with a baroque (rococo?) sensibility. there they will serve you a sandwich, or a salad, and you will order one or the other — or both — and it will be a competent affair. however, you will know that it is only a little something to prepare your stomach for what is to follow.

what followed, for me, was a “lazy sundae afternoon”, which entailed

strawberries and 12 year old balsamic vinegar, vanilla bean and frosted strawberry and shortbread ice creams blended with strawberry coulis, crushed meringues, whipped cream and fresh strawberries.

it certainly made an impact as it arrived at the table, served in an enormous pink goblet of heavy cut glass. such fun! all those bits of crumbly meringue! multiple biscuits! a veritable cloud of whipped cream! the taste of strawberries through everything was quite lovely, but perhaps in the end, the overall impression was just that it was… nice.

which is not a bad thing, certainly, and i did not complain as i ate the lot. but i think the ice cream could have been better: more luscious, a little less frosty in parts.

more, in fact, like the coupe we had at afternoon tea not quite a week later and just a couple of blocks down, at the wolseley. i wish i had a picture to show you, but their no-photo policy is stark on the front page of their menu. you will just have to believe me when i tell you that the combination of crushed meringue, lemon curd and lemon yoghurt ice cream, whipped cream and flaked almonds makes for a very luscious sundae indeed. i think of it still, with a sigh, this pale yellow beauty in a frosty silver bowl.

aside from the lemon meringue coupe, we also had a perfunctory round of afternoon tea (a three-tiered tray to share between four) and a slice of treacle tart, which was light and lemony, and possessed none of the sickly sweetness that you might expect. the pastry was just perfect, and the filling, pleasantly sticky, well, that was perfect too. my mother — quite out of character — must have had four, if not five, mouthfuls of it, and i feared i might have to stab her with my fork to get her to stop.

such blissful eating amidst the bustle — a constant stream of tea-takers swarmed through the restaurant, but the waitress never hurried us along. for a moment, this little stretch of banquette seating under the high ceilings and marble pillars, it felt like home.