Walking through the marble corridors of the Atlantis at the Palm past carved Arabic patterns and a towering aquarium, I found myself in front of a brown wooden door next to a grand head of a bear. It’s an unexpected sight in Dubai, but that’s precisely the point: this is the threshold to Frantzén’s world. Push the door and you don’t enter Narnia exactly, but you do step into a fairy tale where the magic is culinary—explosive flavors, meticulous craft, and access to some of the most coveted ingredients on the planet. Knowing what lies behind the door it was with great expectations that I opened the door to FZN, Björn Frantzén’s three-Michelin-star outpost in Dubai.
Frantzén remains one of the most influential modern chefs of our time. At a point when the culinary world revolved around avant-garde technique and intellectual provocation, he carved a different path. His contribution wasn’t a dish or a style but a philosophy: take the world’s best ingredients—no matter where they come from—and prepare them in a way that sparks joy. He bridges French focus on flavor with Japanese purity, then anchors it in Nordic sensibilities. In doing so, he created what many now imitate: a form of elevated comfort food built on luxury produce, impeccable technique, and unashamed deliciousness. In Dubai, where luxury ingredients and money flows, the Frantzén universe feels right at home.



The experience begins with a ring of the bell and a short ascent in an elevator that opens into a Swedish living room. Wooden panels, bright-colored couches, and personal touches on the shelves set a distinctly homelike tone—a welcomed warmth Here we enjoyed the first round of snacks, each a tiny jewel combining Nordic restraint, Japanese finesse, and a nod to Middle Eastern spices.



The most memorable was the birch and strawberry bite: sweet, acidic, and shimmering with a kind of Nordic summer energy—simple in format, complex in execution. Other snacks played with pâte brisée, crustacean richness, and a vol-au-vent with rabbit and caviar, each one reinforcing that Frantzén’s comfort food is built on detail, not nostalgia.


This room is also where the “product box” was born—a Frantzén signature and widely copied. Standing at the counter, we tasted the final snack as a chef opened the box and revealed the ingredients we would meet throughout the evening: Norwegian scallops still smelling of the sea, white truffles with a hypnotic aroma, gleaming monkfish, liquorice, pigeon and sea buckthorn just to name a few. It’s a moment designed to build anticipation, and it works every time.


From there we descended one floor to the main dining room: a vibrant space wrapped around the open kitchen, counter seats filled with guests leaning in, observing, absorbing. The room buzzed with energy—polished but not stiff, elegant but alive. Waiters in suits moved with professional ease while chefs stepped forward to finish dishes tableside. The choreography between the two added depth to the experience; you never forgot that craft was happening inches away.


The first dish in the dining room set the tone: Norwegian scallops, arrived that morning, nestled in a warm landscape of brown butter and crowned with royal white truffle. Deeply comforting, utterly indulgent—my kind of heaven.
Then came the restaurant’s most iconic dish: a massive langoustine tail, barely cooked and then deep-fried at the base where the koshihaikara rice was turned completely crunchy and yuzu kosho gave a bright, electric acidity. It’s a study in contrasts and products and one of those dishes that explains, in a single bite, why Frantzén changed the culinary landscape.


Japanese influences continued with a silken chawanmushi layered with fermented fennel, king crab, and ikura, followed by a monkfish so precisely cooked it felt like the definition of the word “perfect.” A lemon thyme sauce and mushroom tea added depth without overshadowing the fish. I drank every last drop of the sauce straight from the plate—the ultimate compliment.

Frantzén’s French toast, a fixture since day one, arrived in its Dubai version layered with foie gras, charcuterie, and caramelized orange. Rich? Absolutely. Balanced? Not even trying to be—and it didn’t need to. The same unapologetic indulgence defined the next dish: an unlikely combination of liquorice, onion, and almonds that, in lesser hands, would be discordant. Here, it became a tiny masterpiece.

Our final savory course was a beautifully grilled pigeon topped with berries and herbs and served with sweet grilled endives, pear, and a glossy jus with just a whisper of truffle. It was confident, generous, and quietly luxurious.


Desserts opened with a seabuckthorn granita hiding a fermented curry —a punchy, unexpected pairing that worked precisely because it avoided convention. The final dessert returned to a more classic place: pistachio, raspberry, and matcha in a composition that was elegant without being predictable.
A little after midnight, we found ourselves on the terrace overlooking the Dubai skyline in a soft 25-degree breeze, finishing petit fours and Scandinavian candy. A small moment, but a perfect one.
Earlier, I called Frantzén’s style “elevated comfort food,” and I stand by it. “Comfort food” is too often dismissed as simple. Here, it means food that warms you, excites you, and makes you smile with the sheer joy of eating. FZN does exactly that, using extraordinary ingredients from Japan and the Nordics, delivered with technical brilliance and a team that radiates confidence and energy. The soundtrack hums, the room glows, and the entire experience feels both luxurious and deeply human.
The wine cellar is staggering—Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, a formidable selection of Krug, and almost every iconic bottle you can imagine. But even if you skip the grand labels, the wine pairing is superb, with thoughtful, precise matches that elevate each dish.
The conclusion is simple: FZN fully deserves its three Michelin stars. The journey through that wooden door may not take you to Narnia, but it leads somewhere better—a place designed to delight, surprise, and put a smile on your face. It absolutely succeeded

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