At the centre of Taj Hessischer Hof Frankfurt's reopening is Bombay Brasserie, a new Indian restaurant. Opposite Messe Frankfurt, it pairs walnut-lined interiors, bronze detailing, and a visible tandoor with a menu rooted in classic Indian techniques and contemporary presentation. The hotel has reopened under Taj's stewardship, softening the formal character that long defined Hessischer Hof. As General Manager Albert Mayr puts it: “The former Grandhotel Hessischer Hof has long been part of Frankfurt’s hospitality landscape and preserving that legacy has been central to our approach. We wanted to honour what guests valued about the hotel while introducing the values that define Taj. For us, that means authentic hospitality: service that is personal, thoughtful, and genuinely caring. Our ambition was not to reinvent the hotel, but to continue its story through a new chapter.”
Bombay Brasserie avoids nearly every visual cliché attached to Indian fine dining abroad. No jewel-box maximalism. No peacocks. Instead, amber lighting settles into walnut wall panelling, bronze lattice partitions break the dining room into quieter pockets while still allowing sightlines across the space, echoing perforated screen work without turning decorative. Cane inserts on several dining chairs quietly reference Indo-colonial furniture traditions without turning thematic. The diagonal flooring pattern elongates the room visually, while suspended brass lighting introduces movement above otherwise disciplined symmetry. The acoustics feel controlled. The kitchen doors swing open at intervals, carrying smoke from the tandoor into the dining room.
Papad and chutneys open the meal. Naan follows, blistered at the edges and still warm from the tandoor. Smaller plates appear between mains: mince on crisp rounds with fried herbs, and salmon layered with radish and micro-greens on toasted bread. The menu moves between familiar classics and more contemporary dishes — Tandoori prawns, paneer tikka, pav bhaji, murgh makhani, and a coastal seafood curry sits alongside smoked salmon canapés, burrata over a green purée, lobster, and shellfish courses. The appetisers owe more to the language of contemporary European plating than to Indian restaurant convention.
“Authenticity always comes first. Indian cuisine has incredible depth and diversity, and preserving that is important. At the same time, European diners today are curious and open to discovering global flavours. Our role is to present Indian cuisine thoughtfully through refinement, balance, and precision,” Executive Chef Nilesh Dangwal told RR.
Lamb seekh kebab arrives deeply charred along one side, the black pepper heat building slowly after a few bites. The tandoori prawns hold up well under yoghurt and Kashmiri chilli, smoke staying on the fingers after the last bite.
Another seafood course — charred shellfish set over a pale cream reduction with thinly sliced radish and scattered herbs across matte black ceramics — arrives plated almost architecturally. Then the dal, cooked slowly overnight until the texture turns almost velvety without losing its earthiness. The refined version of pav bhaji — the familiar Mumbai street-food structure still visible beneath the fine-dining restraint, with buttered bread, deeply reduced tomato masala, lime, and raw onion is all sharpened in precise proportions.
The murgh makhani deserves a mention. Here, the sauce shows restraint. Tomato acidity remains visible beneath the cream and butter. Saffron sits in the background. Paneer tikka retains its actual structure beneath its marinade. Even the biryani shows discipline. Long-grain rice holds its shape individually instead of collapsing into oily excess. A faint line of saffron runs through parts of it. Those dishes also reflect what guests appear to be responding to most strongly. “We often see guests drawn towards tandoor cooking, aromatic sauces, charcoal notes, and balanced spice profiles. There is also growing interest in regional Indian flavours beyond what many traditionally associate with Indian cuisine and introducing that diversity is an exciting part of what we do,” says Dangwal. By dessert, the room has settled into a low multilingual murmur. Light rain taps the windows overlooking Friedrich-Ebert-Anlage.
The beverage programme follows a similar philosophy. Botanical spirits, floral notes, and Indian ingredients appear throughout the list without becoming overly thematic. Elderflower, rose, coffee, jamun, and citrus recur across several cocktails, many built around familiar structures — highballs, brambles and martinis — executed with restraint rather than spectacle. Jimmy's Bar gets it right: cold glassware, proper dilution, balanced aromatics and drinks that remain connected to the food. Behind the bar, illuminated shelving sits inside a softly arched recess framed with geometric metalwork.
The wine list leans European, understandably, though pairings have been considered carefully. Rheingau Rieslings work especially well against charcoal-heavy dishes and richer gravies. Rhône reds show repeatedly on nearby tables once the lamb courses arrive. The restaurant seems aware of that. What stays with you most by the end of the evening is probably the service. Synchronised plate placement, over-rehearsed explanations, staff delivering ingredients as though reading museum labels — Bombay Brasserie avoids almost all of that. Water glasses are refilled almost unnoticed.
Frankfurt’s luxury dining culture has traditionally centred around French formalism, Japanese precision, steakhouse expense-account rituals, or contemporary European tasting menus.
Bombay Brasserie arrives in Frankfurt with unusual assurance. The restaurant simply assumes its place inside the grand hotel landscape and operates from there. That confidence runs through everything — the willingness to let smoke, spice, acidity, and texture remain intact on the plate. More importantly, Taj understands something many international luxury operators still miss: hospitality has rhythm. The strongest achievement is tonal consistency. Nothing inside the restaurant strains for spectacle individually; the atmosphere accumulates gradually through light, material, sound, and pacing. What lingers isn’t spectacle but atmosphere — charcoal from the tandoor drifting briefly into the dining room, bronze catching the low light near the bar, the slow movement of service around multilingual tables as Frankfurt disappears into rain outside.