Frantzén (Stockholm)

Firstly, a brief rundown on Frantzén itself – it’s been in operation since 2008 and reportedly closed down in 2015 to move site to its new, current location and has been in this reincarnation since 2017.  The Frantzen concept is that diners have canapés and drinks in one area of the venue, are given a presentation of the main produce used and where it comes from, are then moved to the main dining area for the main menu before being returned or taken to a new area for coffees, petit tours and freshly cooked sweets, usually waffles or madeleines.  There are 23 covers here for the main dining area, which is a large, counter dining area with the main prep area within (akin to the Joel Robuchon concept) and I saw a live, TV feed in the kitchen prep area to the kitchen at Zen in Singapore, which I could see clearly was taken from the Thomas Keller concept at The French Laundry in California and Per Se in New York. 

The wine list covers both old and new world as one would expect and ranges from wines by the glass starting at around £30, going upwards to bottles costing several thousand pounds, which is not unusual for a restaurant of this calibre.  The wine cellar I was invited into was smaller than expected but a treat to behold with absolute gems within, including many bottles of Romanée Conti (the 1976 reportedly being the finest tried by the rather charming sommelier Andi who was looking after me throughout my visit).  An array of the finest examples of champagne could also be seen on multiple layers as well – one day(!). 

So on to the experience.  The canapés served in the lounge were genuine class and are almost my favourite part in the best restaurants in the world as so much effort and care is usually poured into these little morsels.  The first was a choux de Bourgogne of Brie, Comté (36 months aged) and Langres, which was light with a delicate outer shell.  Next was a tartlet with its casing made out of celery and spinach, with a filling of langoustine claw tartare, egg yolk, cucumber, finger lime, jalapeño and wasabi.  This was beautifully light yet with enough richness as well.  Next was a staple of Frantzen, which is entitled “Råraka” and believed to be at every branch.  A Råraka potato cylinder is filled with vendace roe (a fish you will find this fish in abundance in Stockholm), beetroot and pickled onions.  This is a delectable bite in every way. 

A savoury macaron was next, served with foie gras, coffee, tequila, roasted cocoa nibs, jams of raisin and banana, roasted oats and reduced Pedro Ximénez.  This was another beautiful bite and had absolutely stunning overall flavour, and I loved the combination of the banana and rum raisin jam with the foie gras particularly.  A superbly original canapé of foie gras and a masterclass in how to do it.  Next was a  puff pastry case of 

ricotta with dashi juice, grilled white asparagus, grapefruit, oil of blackcurrant leaves and pistachio.  The puff pastry was outstanding and showcased another beautifully delicate offering again.  

Next, the ingredients were shown at the counter top in the lounge where the chefs de partie were finalising the canapés.  It was lovely to be shown all the main ingredients, which included hybrid N25 caviar (from an undisclosed location in the Chinese mountain range); king crab from North Norway; Roscoff onions (France) and liquorice also from France; long pepper from the protected region of Botac in South East Asia and wild strawberries from Málaga.  The fabled teardrop peas (very small peas) were also from Spain and are now in very scarce quantity in the world.  There were many others, but this gives an idea of the reach for ingredient sourcing. 

On the way to the dining room, I was recharged with some extra fizz by my wonderful sommelier host and sat at the counter downstairs, having had all the chefs introduced to me, which underlined the first sign of being in a different restaurant.  There is a great deal of pride for the chefs working where, and rightly so, yet there is a more relaxed feel as a result than I was expecting.  The first course was crudo, hamachi (Japanese amberjack fish), “barigoule”, with heart of palm tree inner (the shards you can see in the photo) with coriander, fermented apricot, cooked in own juices.  Barigoule refers to the classic Provençal broth used to cook main ingredients, usually white wine, olive oil, garlic, herbs, and vegetables. This dish was.  This dish was so oily yet so light at the same time and a pleasing aromatic twist from the palm tree innards. 

Next was a gigantic, whole langoustine tail, deep fried (in rapeseed oil) served with a very light emulsion of swarnadwipa (Indian curry spices) and harissa sauce.  This was a lovely smoky sabayon-like dip for a truly wonderful langoustine and they were perfect bedfellows.  The langoustine shone through being so juicy and ‘meaty’ at the same time with an impeccable dip.  Simple brilliance here.  

Next up was cod, with a sauce of mussels, saffron, lemon, orange and lime zest, saffron Pernod and fennel, topped with pine shoot oil.  This had wonderful fragrances throughout.  My only gripe with this dish was that it was a little disappointing to see inexpensive cod, such a small piece of cod, and one that was, in spite of being beautifully tender, actually quite neutral in flavour and actually on the menu.  For the price tag of the menu (I understand the overheads here), I would have either preferred something like incredible turbot on the menu or a reduction in the menu price – simples. 

The next course was absolutely glorious.  Chawanmushi (steamed Japanese egg), with teardrop peas, Parmesan oil, Franzén selection caviar (hybrid of Kaluga and Schrenckii).  This had absolutely everything – unbelievably sweet peas, richness of the egg, umami from the Parmesan oil and beautiful seasoning from the luxurious caviar.  This really was heaven on a spoon and every mouthful was a joy.  It simply can’t be faulted. 

Next was king crab, “aux morilles”, i.e. with morel mushrooms stuffed with a chicken mousse, served with a ramson & vin jaune cream sauce (made with sweet white wine), finished with drops of melted butter and togarashi (Japanese spices in the melted butter).  This was surprisingly hot for what I was expecting, but then again my palate is quite sensitive to hot spices, but this was also a refined heat, the sort that can only be from Japan.  This was a dish of the finest king crab in a beautiful, creamed sauce with light crunch of the outside of the wonderful morel and stuffing, superbly paired with a brilliantly selected Chenin Blanc.  Although I am a sauce and dairy-based sauce fan, I did find this quite rich as a dish and the small piece of king crab seemed a little overflowing with the sauce to only really appreciate its magnificent texture rather than its crab flavour, so perhaps a little less sauce or on the side or even a piece served cold separately would showcase this crustacean more I thought. 

The next course was a bite in canapé size of French toast, maitake (meaning dancing mushroom in Japanese), made with five spices, grilled to caramelised state, served with marinated wagyu slice from the Hyogo prefecture (which means Kobe)brushed with ponzu and served with a chive emulsion and Japanese mustard.  There was never any danger that this was not going to be a lovely combination and with the sourdough cooked to perfection and all other parts being sumptuous, this was another lovely bite and all over far too quickly. 

Perhaps the stand highlight of the whole meal was, rather aptly, the main course of quail from the Loire Valley.  The signature flavour combination utilised by Franzten since inception is white onion, liquorice, and almond; for many years, this was simply served as a soup but has evolved into being utilised in other variants such as this one.  The quail is hung and dried for a week (shown to all in glass-doored fridge displays on the entrance to the restaurant), confit in foie gras fat, then glazed in liquorice, barbecued, and then served with a sumptuous piece of duck foie gras (from Spain) and served in a soup made from onions, liquorice, red wine, Madeira, and almonds with Roscoff onion foam atop.  A perfect Parker House roll (originating from the Parker House Hotel, Boston hotel in the 1870s) was served on the side with double-fermented butter from Denmark named hedgehog butter. I place this dish in the pantheon of greatest moments in restaurant history and was basically moved to tears during this course, sipped down with one of the best Pinot Noirs I have had in a long time from Oregon (producer Thomas in the Dundee Hills).  

On to the sweets, and the pre-dessert was in the form of a granita made with lemon verbena, ginger, and lemongrass.  This has a beautifully refreshing fragrance, but the kick from the ginger was simply far too strong for me, and as this wasn’t a huge pleasure to have as a result, this simply didn’t work for me very well and needs a lot of toning down. A shame as this would have been very good otherwise. The main dessert itself was much better.  A rhubarb compote was served with a beautifully creamy, sweet milk and sake sabayon topped with wild strawberries and a gentle kick of ground Batak pepper on top.  This was very clever and very enjoyable – the tangy rhubarb was softened by the beautifully light and sweet sabayon, and the vibrant kick of pepper lifted the dish.  Anyone would be very happy having this dessert.  

For the petit fours, I was escorted back upstairs to the lounge via the frankly immaculate toilet with its own branded and scented hand wash, toothbrushes, and with the music raising up in volume on entry, which just makes a lot of sense and is the sort of detail only seen in Japan and was lovely to see here, complete with a very expensive and brilliant Japanese toilet.  This reminds me of the other lovely touch, which was that my phone was running low on battery during the meal, and instead of taking the phone away for charging, the floor staff brought down a power bank for my phone (also branded with the restaurant name as another classy touch), and it is this attention to detail and providing the things that you actually really could do and appreciate that puts places like these on a level that others simply are not.  It’s not actually rocket science either; it’s just whether the venue can either afford or be bothered to do this. 

An array of petit fours were presented back in the lounge to mixed success, sadly.  Firstly, a pâté de fruit of blueberry and lemongrass (fine); milk chocolate, Aleppo chilli, and beurre noisette ganache, which was a disaster of volcanic heat in chocolate (just far too hot and unworkable); a fudge of fermented garlic, which had sweetness but was simply not what I think works with the sweets (garlic is garlic no matter how sweet, and there are other savoury elements that can work better with chocolate like salt or possibly olive oil, but not for the love of God, garlic, please!); dark chocolate, cep mushroom, and walnut (nice), white chocolate, tarragon, and pistachio (fine), macaron, vanilla, raspberry, and Earl Grey (lovely), and macaron, dekopon (a Japanese citrus fruit similar to mandarin), and pumpkin (great).  

The absolute highlight though of the petit fours and in some ways the whole meal actually were the unbelievably soft and light, mini madeleines, cooked freshly at the counter in the lounge for all guests with unlimited refills of coffee from Johan & Nyström (Swedish specialty coffee makers) and was very good.  The cooking of this filled the lounge with that unmistakably lovely, sweet bakery scent, adding to the utter holiness of the place and these Madeleines were simply the best I have had, all resting on a bed of sugar, leaving it to the diner to decide how much they dip into.  

The bill came and obviously reminded me that things in life aren’t free.  In spite of my best intentions not to add to the damage with many wine options, it is quite amazing how charming service can simply seduce one to enjoying the night, especially when you have Egon Müller Kabinett available as one of my new loves and also available by the glass.  I was grateful though that the add-on was actually very reasonable for what was, in essence, some of the greatest wines on the planet by the glass for around an extra £160.  For this, I am very grateful.  As a reminder, I am not sponsored and pay for all of my meals myself, so this was mercifully not as bad as it could have been for the wine. 

To conclude, was it worth it and did I like it as an experience?  Well, there are places that use similarly world-class ingredients such as N25 hybrid caviar and poultry from France that do not cost £366 for the tasting menu – I can cite The Ritz in London, Shwarzwaldstube in Germany and Alinea in Chicago as immediate examples.  I’ve mentioned the cod and the lower, sweet and confectionary moments, which reduces the overall feeling a tad, but the bigger picture here is that it is an extremely fun, relaxed and class act, so of course I thought it was great fun.  It is fun to push the boat out every now and again… you just need to prepare to push a big one for here.  The gut never lies, in terms of wanting to come back, as much as I did enjoy, based on the whole return for cost, I feel like coming back in good time rather than as soon as possible. 

Food Grade: 92%