Walking into Lomi, you can’t help but feel a little awestruck. Set inside the Taubenhaus building, a grand survivor from 1898, the restaurant unfolds like a stage set — cavernous wings stretch toward an open kitchen, chandeliers twinkle over plush armchairs, and a glass-fronted wine room hums quietly at the center. Few restaurants in Warsaw can claim such a sense of place, and Lomi makes the most of it.

The menu, sprawling in scope, seeks to capture the heart of Georgian hospitality. A starter titled Aromat of Tbilisi arrives as a tableau: earthy spreads, a stuffed pepper, and a single eggplant roll wrapped around walnuts. It’s a promising beginning, though the price tag gives pause. Similarly, a lamb lula kebab served with lavash and pickled onions leaned toward the austere until a side of satsebeli sauce — sweet, tomato-forward, though reminiscent of something jarred — came to the rescue. Parsley stands in for cilantro throughout the menu, a curious substitution that flattens flavors that might otherwise sing.

Then comes redemption. The Adjarian khachapuri — a bubbling canoe of flaky bread, molten sulguni, and the golden richness of a just-cracked yolk — is pure comfort. Mixed together, it’s indulgence at its best, a dish that could make you forget the Warsaw drizzle outside. It’s the sort of thing that anchors a meal, and here, it shines.
Wine is a strength, with a climate-controlled cellar showcasing bottles worth lingering over. Service is polished and welcoming, the kind that makes you want to linger. And linger you will, because Lomi is not the kind of restaurant you breeze in and out of — it’s a place designed for long evenings in grand company.

Yes, you’ll pay a premium, and no, the food doesn’t yet outpace stalwarts like Rusiko. But what Lomi offers is an atmosphere of occasion: an architectural jewel box where even a simple dinner feels like an event. For many, that will be worth the ticket.