Studio Frantzén, knightsbridge

Studio Frantzen, knightsbridge (££££)

Today we visited Studio Frantzén, a Scandi-Asian restaurant whose lineage (and name) comes from its Swedish three-mechellin-starred flagship.

Similar to its Stockholm home, Studio Frantzén champions raw ingredients and seasonal ingredients, with plenty of umami flavours and familiar Scandinavian ingredients weaved through the otherwise Asian-inspired menu. Studio Frantzén sits on Harrod’s fifth floor, with an award-winning interior and extensive roof terrace (perfect for that summer or spring sunset).

I’ve admittedly been here twice now, although this review will focus primarily on my most recent adventure here. Last time, I sat looking out over the Knightsbridge skyline on their terrace; however, this time, on a substantially colder February evening, we sat inside.

The menu on offer is surprisingly large, although it can mostly be separated into two sections: raw and cooked. The 'snacks’ section is taken over mostly by different varieties of oysters: grilled, smoked, classic, or even Swedish style (which confusingly has all Japanese ingredients). We decided, however, to ditch the oysters and instead go for the warm laminated milk bread (served with miso butter).

If you’re sitting here reading this and thinking, “What is a laminated milk break?” then I can happily answer you by letting you know it's, in essence, a large croissant. And a very tasty one at that. With a wonderfully flaky outside and a soft inside, it balanced the flavours of sweet and savoury wonderfully, with the miso butter bringing a dimension of umami flavours across the ever-switching sweet and salty loaf. Potentially, dare I say it, the highlight of the meal, this bread navigated flavours and textures impressively—the bar high for the meal to come.

With the bread devoured, our attentions next turned to our drinks. A good drinks list, with many themed cocktails as well as old favourites. To drink, I had the Wabi-Sabi (subtitled: The Beauty of Imperfection). This drink was composed of, Nuet Dry Aquavit, Japanese melon, apple, nettles, and citrus. Slightly tart, although equally floral, this drink was composed excellently. It’s worth mentioning now the wine list, which wasn’t unreasonable, and my post-dinner grasshopper, sweet and minty—a classic executed well.

In good time (for a restaurant like this, you’d be expecting excellent pacing), our starters arrived. Sashimi of hiramasa, with radishes, ume kosho, and fermented strawberry, and Stracciatella di Bufala, with soy beans, broccolini, lime, ginger vinaigrette, and pine; one raw and one ‘traditional’. You can really appreciate the fusion of Asian and Scandi flavours in dishes like these, rather than mixing cuisines for the sake of it. The sashimi was presented beautifully, with thin cuts of yellowtail almost drowned in the fermented strawberry. Carefully balancing the sweetness of strawberry, the acidity of the radish and ume kosho, and the slight meatiness of the haramasa, the dish was both delicate and bold in its taste.

The stracciatella was everything a cheese starter should be. While it looked like a bowl of Stracciatella with peas and broccolini dumped onto it (and yes, technically it sort of was), it still felt like it was constructed delicately, with an emphasis on a balance of flavour between the creamy buffalo and the sharper acidic elements of the vinaigrette. The Stracciatella itself was high quality, and whilst not a cheese for the home cheese draw, there was a reason why we got this again (from our first visit) compared to something else.

Unfortunately, and as you’ll see, ironically, this is where the meal started to fall down a little—not the well-cooked and well-constructed dishes we had eaten so far.

Buzzing for our main courses, we waited patiently, eyeing up each tray of food, hoping and hoping it would be ours. And then, in admittedly good time, a little folded table was brought over, and our selection of mains and sides was placed on top.

Seeing the quality from our last visit, we decided to treat ourselves, and so we got the two heavy hitters of the menu: the lobster and the ‘Sweden vs. Japan’ (oxtail and wagyu, to you and me).

Now, visually, these dishes were impressive. The oxtail and beef were placed strategically on top of each other; the wagyu was on the bed of its humbler cousin. The lobster, too, spread out and on display, was garnished simply with pomegranate seeds. On the side of both, a pot of sauce, for the beef, a jus, and for the lobster, a curry sauce.

We also got, because you’d be foolish to ignore the side dishes here: carrots, a bitter salad, and rice. Anyway, we are now at the point of the review where things start to crash and burn.

At first, I thought it was simply the low lighting—that the lobster would, of course, be cooked perfectly, bright and juicy, not sad and anaemic. On my first bite, I thought surely I must have missed something? But no. It tasted overcooked and underseasoned, and its anaemic appearance was a clear consequence of the many minutes it spent post-perfection. Fear not, I thought. I can hide this disappointment in curry sauce! But alas, the curry sauce was also underseasoned, lacking the punch and depth of flavour you’d want to otherwise pair with an expected softer, buttery seafood taste.

Not all a disaster, however, was Sweden vs. Japan. All perfectly cooked (I would have truly cried if the wagyu was anything but!): soft melt-in-the-mouth steak and tender ox tail. Also on the plate was a wonderfully balanced quenelle of mustard, poured over for us by our server, a rich jus with a wonderful depth of flavour (although not many notes of lemongrass as described).

After that brief interlude of excellent cooking, we turn our attention to the sides. I was only too excited when I ordered these, picturing how well they’d pair with the dishes we had otherwise ordered. Granted, not all were bad, however. The rice was cooked perfectly, seasoned well, and thanked for the butter that dressed it. The bitter salad with the pumpkin hot sauce and shiso, another wonderful Scandi-Asian marriage, had so much potential but was defeated by the hot sauce, of which there was sadly so little.

Perhaps the saddest of them all, though, were the ball bearings, which were the carrots. With cloudberry and orange-glazed carrots, I had dreams of Sunday roasts in the Scandinavian tundra, crisp yet soft, sweet yet salty, strips of vegetables. But alas. How wrong I was. The first challenge was using your fork to pick one up; small balls (albeit presented well) were outrageously tough, as if still raw. You can imagine that if we struggled to get a fork into it, our teeth bore no easier task. I think after attempting to try one, the rest sat content in their little bowl.

This wasn’t the end of our meal, though. We thought, OK, yes, the mains weren’t perfect, but surely the desserts can’t be worse! (We were right, and no regrets were had.)

To finish off, we got the chilled Charentais melon and the rum-raisin ice cream (with, interestingly, frozen foie gras). The melon we’d had before was fresh and garnished  with a little bit of salt, which added a little something (a reminder it wasn’t just a plate of melon).

The rum-raisin rice cream was presented impressively, and whilst I’m not sure I could have pointed out the foie gras, as a whole, the dish tasted well balanced.

We therefore finished the meal in fairly good spirits, the desserts pleasing, and overall satisfied. Did we leave, and then, on reflection, feel like a little cheated that the lobster was so mid, and the carrots rock hard? Yes, we did. Key, though, is: would we come back? And I think yes, we would. We had enough dishes, and in the past we have had enough dishes that we really enjoyed, with a few dishes that stood out.

If ever I were asked for my top Scandi-Asian fusion restaurant, I’d be recommending here, that’s for sure.