Olde Hansa

Olde Hansa occupies a 15th-century merchant house one lane off Raekoja plats and has been running its full medieval-experience restaurant since 1999 — every waiter in tunic and hose, every table lit only by beeswax candles, no electricity in the dining rooms, and a menu built from Hanseatic-era recipes: forest game, honey-braised roots, saffron rice, cinnamon-and-cardamom beer. It is a set piece and unapologetically so, but it is also very good, and it is where every visiting head of state gets taken. The kitchen works to one self-imposed rule that gives the whole thing its spine: nothing from the New World, which means no potato, no tomato, no maize, no chilli and no coffee anywhere on the menu — the starch is barley, spelt and rye instead. The address is Vana turg 1, thirty seconds off the square.

The three-course Merchant's Feast (€48) is the popular choice — spiced almonds and rye to start, elk or wild boar main, honey-and-nut pastry to finish, with a jug of the house cinnamon beer. Vegetarians are properly looked after with the game replaced by mushroom and pumpkin dishes. Live medieval music some evenings. If you want the atmosphere without the full spend, come at lunchtime for a bowl of forest mushroom soup and a bread bowl (€12). Off the set menus, à la carte game mains run from the high €20s into the high €30s, and bear — when it is on — is both the dearest plate on the table and the least rewarding eating, mild and dry and ordered mostly so people can say they did. The drinks are sweet across the board: honey beer, white beer and the spiced cinnamon one, roughly €8 a stoneware mug.

Book online at least a day ahead in summer — it is a small building, four dining rooms, and it fills. Best table is on the second floor by the window overlooking Vana turg. Combine with the Town Hall on the same square, and finish with a cinnamon beer at the sister brewery III Draakon downstairs (a tiny, cheap medieval tavern doing €3 elk pastries — arguably the best cheap eat in the old town). Everything else worth folding into the same half-day sits within five minutes on foot: the Raeapteek town hall pharmacy on the square, free to walk into and claimed as Europe's oldest continuously trading one; St Catherine's Passage three minutes east; the Master's Courtyard off Vene street four minutes; Niguliste church five; and the Toompea viewing platforms about twelve minutes uphill through Pikk jalg.

The visit itself starts at a heavy studded door on Vana turg, where someone in wool addresses you as a noble guest and takes your coat. The ground-floor rooms are the loudest — long benches, big parties, the pass to the kitchen — while the first and second floors are quieter and darker, and the top of the house is generally held for private banquets. Menus are printed on heavy card and are genuinely hard to read by candle alone; ask for a candle to be shifted rather than squinting. Musicians work the rooms on shawm, bagpipe and hurdy-gurdy on the busier evenings, food comes on wooden boards and glazed clay, and portions are large enough that a starter each between two is plenty. Allow two hours minimum, ask for a second-floor window seat when you book, and eat upstairs if you want to hear each other.

Getting there is walking, whatever the weather. From the Viru tram stop it is ten minutes through the Viru gate, up Viru street and left at the square; from Hobujaama it is much the same. Trams 1, 2, 3 and 4 all serve the eastern edge of the old town, and a single ticket bought from the driver costs €2. From the airport, take tram 4 to Hobujaama — around 17 minutes — then walk eight. From the ferry terminals it is a 15 to 20 minute walk south along Sadama and Mere puiestee, or €6-8 in a Bolt. Do not drive: the old town is closed to cars without a resident permit, so you would park under Viru Keskus or Solaris at roughly €4 an hour and walk the last five minutes anyway. Come on foot.

Costs are easy to model. The three-course Merchant's Feast is €48 a head; with a mug of beer each and service rounded up, two people leave at about €110-120. Lunch is where the value sits: forest mushroom soup in a bread bowl at €12 buys you the same candles, the same costumes and the same rooms for a third of the money. À la carte, expect €10-15 for starters, high €20s to high €30s for game mains and around €10 for the honey-and-nut desserts. Downstairs at III Draakon, an elk pastry is €3 and a mug of ale a few euro more, so a genuine medieval snack there costs under €10. Cards are taken everywhere, service is not added automatically, and rounding the bill up is the local habit rather than a fixed percentage.

Timing matters more than the menu. Doors open at 12:00 and the kitchen runs to 23:00, every day of the year including Christmas Day. The quiet windows are 12:00-13:00 and after 21:00; the crush is 12:30-14:30 from May to September, when cruise groups come off the ships, and again 19:00-21:00 all year, which is when unbooked walk-ins get turned away at the door. December is the best month here — the Christmas market is thirty seconds away on Raekoja plats, it is dark by 15:30, and candlelight at 16:00 is the whole point. January to March is quietest and you can often walk in. July is the weakest: the rooms hold heat, the terrace tables lose half the atmosphere. Book 19:30 in winter, 12:15 or 21:00 in high summer.

It suits more people than the price tag suggests. Children generally love it — the costumes, the boards, the theatre — and teenagers who arrived rolling their eyes tend to stay. It is a strong rainy-afternoon plan, because two hours indoors here beats two hours dodging showers on Pikk. Wheelchair users should call first: this is a medieval merchant's house with a step at the door, narrow stone stairs and no lift, so the ground floor is the only realistic option. Vegetarians are well served; vegans are harder, since honey and butter run through most dishes, so flag it when booking. And if you have a one-hour gap before a ferry or a train, skip the restaurant entirely — the feast simply cannot be done in an hour. Go to III Draakon on the square instead and eat standing up.

The honest caveats. This is a show and it is priced like one: you are paying roughly double what the same quality of cooking costs in Rotermann or Kalamaja, and the surcharge buys atmosphere, not better protein. The no-electricity rule means genuine gloom — phone photographs come out as orange smears, and reading small print is a struggle. Service in character is warm but slow when the rooms are full, so never book a 20:00 concert on the back of an 18:30 table. The beers are spiced and sweet; there is no plain lager to fall back on. And nobody should arrive expecting scholarly reconstruction — the recipes are interpretations, with the no-potato rule the most rigorous thing about them. It is also not a quiet romantic dinner. If that is what you want, eat elsewhere and come here for the beer.

Hours & entry

Not free

Daily 12:00-23:00

What to see

• Second-floor window table over Vana turg — Ask specifically when booking
• The house cinnamon beer brewed on site — Ordered at the table; served in stoneware jugs
• III Draakon medieval tavern downstairs — Separate entrance on the Town Hall square

Tips from the ground

• Book at least 24h ahead in June-August — walk-ins often turned away.
• III Draakon downstairs is much cheaper and serves the same beer.
• Order the elk soup starter — the standout dish at any price point.