Through VOR’s Eyes: Petit Fritz
Hohenzollernstraße does not do quiet. Bars spill into the street, Schwabing at full volume.
Behind a heavy red curtain, something holds its shape anyway.
The Room
Black and white hex tile. Green glazed brick along the counter, a brass-framed case above it holding the day’s oysters. Tsarskaya, Gillardeau, Belon, each crate labelled in chalk.
Further back, a glasshouse room opens onto the garden. Old timber beams, leather banquettes, a mirrored wall doubling the greenery, ivy pressing against every pane. Bistro at the front, conservatory at the back. No reservations, no overflow seating. A restaurant that decided what it is and built exactly that.
The Construction
The menu reads simply: tartines. One slice of sourdough, laminated in butter until the crust shatters. One or two things on top. Roast beef and horseradish, beetroot and Belper Knolle. Nothing more, nothing needed.
We recognise the logic. Strip a thing down to what it needs, then execute that with total precision. A tartine is not a lesser sandwich. It’s a sandwich with everything unnecessary removed.
The wine list follows the same instinct. Open by the glass, the vineyard maps hand-drawn by the team. Curated for drinking, not for show.
The Lunch
We sat down with Tom Breiter, who founded the place, and Sebastian, who runs the kitchen. They cooked for us. Nothing off the printed menu. Their famous steak tartare. Bone marrow, roasted dark. A croque madame with its yolk left to run.
Somewhere between courses, Tom offered up his own philosophy of the good life:
“Die drei besten Dinge im Leben sind Saufen und Fressen.”
Two things, called three. He knew it. That was rather the point.
Why We Rate It
Because Petit Fritz proves the same thing we build our shoes on: reduce a thing to its essentials, and what’s left better be excellent.
Loud street. Quiet discipline.
Petit Fritz Hohenzollernstr. 9, 80801 München
