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🤮 1/5 - It is so bad it should close
By 👻 @Bon vivant, 12/25/2022 3:00 am
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You step into a tiny space and a man in the coatroom stops me speaking before I have the opportunity to introduce myself. -- You are expected, please proceed to the lift and press the top button, the man asks me softly. At the top floor, the maître d' is standing on the landing and he is not to leave my side for much time this evening. The management has Googled me and it is eerie to have bits of my life discussed in conversation as I am being served. The restaurant looks like a Norwegian oil billionaire's log cabin. -- Dated before it was furnished. -- Not ugly, but a standard job by an interior decorator by coffee table books. The ingredients to be used tonight are presented in a show cabinet and small groups of us guests are invited to learn where the butter and salt along with the langoustine originate from. -- Quaint if one has never seen fresh food, perhaps? Dish 1: White on a white plate. Dish 2: White on a white plate. Dish 3: White on a white plate. -- I ask the maître d' why everything is WHITE. A German woman next to me demands to know if I am a professional food critic, and I silence her with a stern stare. It is cramped. We are all squashed around a communal table. The man next to me is at the restaurant for the third time, I am made to hear from him, and his companion. People are dressed in shorts and t-shirts. I am the only person dining on my own, and naturally, dressed in a dark suit, shirt, and tie. People are served in excess of five different sorts of wine. -- Is this a wine tasting or a dinner? I ask myself. Dish 6 arrives and I tell the staff not to place the plate in front of me if what is on it is ALL WHITE. It is pain sucré, so it is (sort of) white and the plate is refused. At this point, the head of the restaurant rushes up to me and suggests I might want to end "the experience". I am so glad he offered, as is the German woman next to me as she is not pleased to see me sending all food back to the kitchen. I am gently nudged out of the door and there is nothing to pay. "Tonight is on me", says the maître d´as he locks the door with me standing on the doorsteps. USD 1,000 is extortionate money to pay to dine at this pedestrian eatery. One should note that the Michelin stars are given by local inspectors, and thus are not handed out by an international committee of sorts. Frantzén might claim to be the best restaurant in Sweden, but it is a far cry from fine dining in London, Paris, and NYC.
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