Open since 1971 and never moved, in the purpose built house it opened in. Munich has rebuilt itself around Johann-Fichte-Strasse 7. The address has not changed once.
The house
Tantris opened in Munich in 1971 and has never moved. It is still at Johann-Fichte-Strasse 7, and still in the purpose built house it opened in, which was put up for this restaurant and has never been anything else. That is the part worth pausing on. The house has been renewed since, carefully in its own words, and it now trades as Tantris Maison Culinaire. But the renewal happened around the same walls rather than by starting again somewhere newer, which is the decision most restaurants of that generation did not make. What you book here is a continuous fifty five year old address, not a name that has been carried from building to building.
How the house works now
It runs as three things under one roof rather than as a single restaurant. There is Tantris. There is Tantris DNA, a second kitchen with its own identity. And there is the bar. Wednesday to Saturday, lunch from noon to four and dinner from half past six until midnight, with the bar going to one. Closed Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, and open on public holidays, which is the opposite of most German restaurants and worth knowing if you are travelling on a Bavarian holiday weekend.
The price, and the condition attached to it
The house prices inclusively, and at this level almost nobody does. The Saturday lunch is four courses at EUR 225 with the wine pairing already inside the number, so the bill is the same whether you know the list or not and nobody is upsold at the table. There is also a Menu Jeune, four courses at EUR 150 at lunch and five at EUR 225 in the evening, aperitif, wine pairing and coffee included, lunch Wednesday to Friday and dinner Wednesday and Thursday. It carries a condition and it is worth reading before you plan around it: in the restaurant's own words, the offer is available to all guests under the age of 35, and it applies to the entire table. Most people who read this letter are older than that, so treat the EUR 150 as a number you will probably not be quoted. What it tells you is more interesting than what it costs. A house of this standing, in its fifty fifth year, selling its own menu cheaper to the next generation of its guests is making a decision about who is going to be sitting in that dining room in twenty years.
One thing to know before you book
The house takes its annual holidays from 22 July to 5 August 2026, which means it reopens the day before the letter this article belongs to goes out. If you are reading this in the first week of August, the room has just come back to life, which in practice is a good week to go: the kitchen is fresh and the tourists have not caught up.
Why fifty five years at one address is an argument and not a curiosity
The Chronicles keeps coming back to the same shape: the label sits in one place and the value sits in another. Tantris is that argument in a dining room. Restaurants are the least durable of the businesses we write about, and almost nothing survives fifty five years at one address while still cooking at the top of its national game. The house has been renewed, and says so itself, but it was renewed in place. That is the thing that cannot be bought and cannot be opened. A guest who ate here in the seventies can give a taxi driver the same street name today and be taken to the same door, which is a sentence you can normally only say about a museum or a church.
At a glance
The TGC view
Munich needed a table in this issue that was about more than the cooking, and this is the one. We book it, and we book it in the restaurant rather than in Tantris DNA when the point of the evening is the house itself. Confirm the calendar with us before planning around the reopening.
Want us to arrange it?
We hold the relationships, the rooms and the access. Tell us the dates and we handle the rest.
Visit website ↗A Munich restaurant with no choice on the menu, a new set menu every night, and a wine shop attached. The wine list is built by people whose day job is selling the bottles, which changes what ends up in the glass.
Read the review →Two Australian chefs left the Paris kitchens for the stables of a château thirty-six kilometres out, and cook almost entirely from a market garden that was already there. The garden is the restaurant, not its supplier.
Read the review →Thirty years on the bank of the Charente, a father and son in the same kitchen, one Michelin star, and a menu built on cognac, pineau, Atlantic fish and wild snails. The independence the region is supposed to have, actually held.
Read the review →