Hotel Bayerischer Hof

Benjamin Monn

It’s hard not to fall at least a little bit in love with a historic grand hotel. The Oriental in Bangkok, Raffles in Singapore, Claridge’s in London or the Ritz in Paris: They share an unapologetic opulence, a respect for history, a charming disregard for modern automation and a firm commitment to doing things in the most beautiful way.

That’s true as well for hotels in less obviously seductive cities. Case in point: Hotel Bayerischer Hof in Munich, which was built at the request of Bavarian King Ludwig I in 1839. Hotels like this tap into our collective nostalgia, our imagined memories of a simpler era when checking into a hotel was a grand event for the leisure class, when we took our time for everyday things, when we bothered to dress up.

The king, who presumably later inspired his grandson to build some of Bavaria’s most lavish castles, commissioned German industrialist and future knight Joseph Anton von Maffei to create the best hotel of the time. Von Maffei purchased an old inn near the city’s central Marienplatz, commissioned architect Friedrich von Gärtner to transform it and opened the hotel in 1841. At the end of the 19th century, confectioner-turned-hotelier Herrmann Volkhardt acquired it for the grand sum of 2.85 million gold marks, and it has remained in the Volkhardt family ever since.

The atrium and central lounge

Daniel Schvarcz

They steered the hotel through various crises, including a devastating fire in 1911, the Great Depression and two world wars, the latter of which saw its complete destruction from an aerial bomb. The second Hermann Volkhardt and his son Falk spent seven years rebuilding it around its almost intact Hall of Mirrors. When Falk took over the hotel, he turned it into a glamorous center of Munich’s social life.

Falk’s daughter, Innegrit Volkhardt, took over in 1992, and over the years she invested nearly 200 million euros in architectural projects and renovations that show off her family’s commitment to tradition, modernity, cosmopolitanism and what they call Munich lifestyle. It’s a place with a sort of old-money luxury, a vibe that fits with Munich’s description, by some of its tourism boosters, as the Monaco of Bavaria (which is, curiously enough, the city’s full name in Italian). A couple of years ago, she passed the torch to her nieces.

The hotel today has 337 rooms, including 74 suites. These are all spacious, comfortable and highly functional, but their character varies widely. Some are somber, decorated in elemental black and wine; others are sunny in shades of ocher and yellow; and a few are filled with the florals and chintz of classic British country hotels. A couple dozen were recently redone by internationally renowned Belgian interior designer, art collector and antique dealer Axel Vervoordt, including the nearly 4,000-square-foot Garden Penthouse Suite, which occupies the entire eighth floor and has a wraparound terrace and all kinds of bells and whistles.

The Penthouse Garden Suite

Benjamin Monn

That’s not the only evidence of Innegrit’s friendship with Vervoordt (who’s had some highly notable clients over the years). The Belgian’s influence is felt all over the hotel: the Garden and Atelier restaurants (more on those later), the cinema lounge, the Palais Keller restaurant and many of the extensive meeting and event rooms. She also collaborated with other design luminaries, including French interior architect Andrée Putman, who worked on the Blue Spa, and French design studio Jouin Manku, who did the roof garden with its views of the Frauenkirche, the old town and, on clear days, the Alps in the distance.

The great thing about historic grand hotels is that the don’t only honor the era in which they were built. They often celebrate many of the times that came later. That’s why there’s an old-school nightclub and piano bar in the basement, and why Falk’s Bar in the grand Hall of Mirrors (an idea of Innegrit’s in 2001) invites a certain sort of time travel, to a gilded age when patrons flirted and traded secrets as they sipped Champagnegne cocktails beneath the beautifully adorned stucco ceiling.

It’s also why there’s a significant memorial to Michael Jackson in front of the hotel in Promenadeplatz. Fans of the King of Pop have left all sorts of tributes and memorabilia around what was supposed to be a monument to Renaissance composer Orlande de Lassus. The manager on duty during my stay took pains to tell me that it’s not an official hotel project, but I sensed a fair amount of pride when he said that it’s there because the star liked to stay at Bayerischer Hof when he visited Munich.

Trader Vic’s

Courtesy of the hotel

American pop culture is also proudly on display in the former wine cellar, which has been an outpost of Trader Vic’s since 1971, when Falk Volkhardt caught the wave of tiki enthusiasm that was sweeping Europe and brought the brand to Germany. It’s still going strong, with its fully realized South Pacific theme, its mai tais and tiki puka pukas served with tiny paper umbrellas, and its pan-Asian snacks (Thai satay, crab rangoon) drawing a local crowd for an unironic good time.

The hotel’s other restaurants are very much of today’s moment. Between the spa reception and the rooftop lounge, the Blue Spa Lounge and Winter Garden aims to split the difference between wellness café and poolside watering hole, with “fitness shakes” and herbal infusions sharing a menu with classic negronis, espresso martinis and Moët & Chandon by the glass. The food menu is mostly light but not spartan, with dishes like scallops with wakame and cucumber, wild herb salads with various proteins, and cod with rose curry and bulgar. But there’s Munich weisswurst made of veal and pork and served with pretzel and sweet mustard as well.

Downstairs, the marquee restaurant, Atelier, holds two Michelin stars; chef Anton Gschwendtner’s creative seasonal cuisine with Asian influences—seven courses on the tasting menu, with the option to subtract one or two—is served in an intimate room of Vervoordt’s design. A less lavish option is the winning Garden restaurant in a vaguely industrial room that opens onto the street-level terrace in summer.

Atelier

Benjamin Monn

But Garden is still plenty lavish. Its menu goes heavy on luxury ingredients like Simmentaler beef in the tartare (with an optional addition of N25 Oscietra Reserve caviar), Auster Poget Spéciale Utah No.2 oysters (with a recommended pairing of Ruinart Blac Singular Edition 19), saffron in a risotto, and Périgord black truffles in the jus that’s served with a saddle of veal.

Steaks are flown in from the US, New Zealand and Australia. The raw milk cheeses are imported from France. The crêpes suzette are flambeed tableside. There’s much to love. And King Ludwig I would be proud.

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