Björn Frantzén is the only chef in the world currently operating three Michelin three-star restaurants simultaneously in three different cities. FZN in Dubai proves that this achievement is not an expansion story, but the portability of a system.
I first visited in May 2025. It was the night before the Dubai Michelin ceremony and the restaurant had only been open for six months — one of the most charged moments on Dubai’s gastronomic calendar. The following evening’s stars were the only subject in the room, and for the first time, the possibility of three stars was being spoken of seriously in the city. That was the dominant conversation at our table. “Of course, our goal is three stars,” they said, “but expecting that only six months after opening may not be realistic. Most likely two…”
When three stars were announced the next evening, I still remember the thin line between astonishment and elation in the room. The celebration was not merely the success of a restaurant; it marked a threshold for a gastronomic scene Dubai had been carefully constructing for years. And standing at that threshold was one of the most ambitious chefs in the world: Björn Frantzén, alongside Executive Chef Torsten Vildgaard and General Manager Karin Ågren, who successfully translated the group’s DNA into a new geography.
Frantzén today operates three Michelin three-star restaurants simultaneously in three different cities —Stockholm, Singapore and Dubai. That sentence alone carries weight. But the real story is not the number of stars; it is the ability to reproduce the same level of excellence across different cultural contexts, different teams and different product landscapes. In this sense, FZN Dubai is not a branch; it is the Gulf manifesto of the Frantzén philosophy.
When I recently returned to the restaurant for a second visit, the memory of the first was still vivid. This time my curiosity was different: What does a restaurant that reaches the summit in six months do to remain there? Once the excitement of the stars fades, how does the system function? To describe FZN simply as a restaurant would be insufficient. It presents a carefully designed evening dramaturgy. The experience does not begin in a formal reception area but in a living room-like setting where small bites are offered. Dim yet not somber, refined yet not distant. The first contact is disarming. The ritualistic tension often associated with fine dining is intentionally softened here.
One of the most striking details for me was the marble chamber before the main dining experience. In this refrigerated display, all the ingredients to be served that evening are presented individually, each explained together with its origin. Shellfish from Norway, a seafood delicacy from Japan, a carefully selected cut of meat… These are not merely ingredients; they are identities. This is perhaps the purest contemporary definition of luxury: Transparency and traceability.
After the amuse-bouchés, we moved upstairs. Dining around the open fire transforms the experience into something interactive. Ingredients cooking over flame, chefs in motion, final touches being applied to the plates… You are not merely an observer; you are part of the process. This is not spectacle but controlled intimacy. Finally, the evening descends to the terrace level. With the Dubai skyline as a backdrop, the tempo slows. Petit fours, final drinks, conversation… What is being offered here is not simply food but a carefully structured night — extended in time, calibrated in rhythm, composed of emotional rises and falls.
At the center of this experience is, of course, the menu. FZN’s menu is not just a tasting sequence; it is a concentrated expression of the gastronomic identity Frantzén has built over years. This language can be read on three levels. First, the deliberate balance between Nordic discipline and Japanese sensitivity is evident. A dish like råraka openly acknowledges Swedish heritage, while shiro kombu, unagi, chawanmushi and otoro introduce Japanese references. This is not fusion. Fusion tends to blur identities. What Frantzén achieves is fluency between two culinary languages within the same sentence.
In the chawanmushi, the traditional Japanese form is preserved, yet enriched with smoked beef and razor clam, introducing a Northern European depth. The fatty texture of otoro is balanced with the acidity of fermented tomato and the aromatic lift of coriander seed. These are not decorative gestures but structural decisions. Precision without excess.
The second layer concerns the definition of luxury. Here, luxury is not communicated through embellishment but through provenance and selectivity. Langoustine. Koshihikari rice. Bafun uni. Vacche Rosse. Périgourdine. Each carries a geographic signature. In Dubai, where luxury is often associated with spectacle, this quieter articulation — rooted in sourcing and execution — feels particularly significant.
The third and perhaps most crucial layer is memory. Some dishes are not seasonal; they are identity. “French Toast Grand Tradition 2008” is the most powerful bridge on the menu. Created in Stockholm in 2008 and never removed since, this truffle-laced interpretation with Vacche Rosse cheese and aged balsamic is the distilled essence of Frantzén’s DNA. Serving it in Dubai signals something fundamental: This is not expansion, but continuity. The fact that it remains on the menu even after three stars confirms that success has not altered the core. It is not merely a dish; it is a manifesto of consistency. Råraka serves a similar function — an acknowledgment of roots, a refusal to abandon origin.
Chawanmushi exemplifies another principle: Preserve the form, rewrite the content. Otoro with fermented tomato and caviar demonstrates controlled intensity. Powerful flavors coexist, yet none overwhelms the other.
Ultimately, this menu communicates three things simultaneously: Identity is preserved, technical courage remains intact, and luxury is defined not by spectacle but by product and precision. And perhaps most importantly, this is not a menu written after receiving three stars. It is a menu that explains why those three stars were awarded in the first place.
Where to stay
In recent years, Atlantis-The Palm has significantly strengthened its gastronomic credentials through collaborations with world-renowned chefs, becoming one of the resort destinations in the Middle East with the highest concentration of Michelin-starred restaurants. Within this context, FZN by Björn Frantzén stands out as one of the most compelling expressions of the hotel’s fine dining vision. Located at the apex of Palm Jumeirah’s crescent and opened in 2008, the iconic property embodies the concept of a true “destination resort,” offering more than 1,500 rooms, including its signature underwater suites. While large-scale attractions such as Aquaventure Waterpark and The Lost Chambers Aquarium draw leisure travelers from around the world, its private beaches, spa facilities, and high-end restaurant portfolio elevate the experience into a multi-layered expression of contemporary luxury. Today, Atlantis-The Palm is regarded not only as a landmark of Dubai but as one of the Gulf region’s leading gastro-luxury resort brands.
