When one makes a trip to one of the three restaurants in Singapore with three Michelin stars, it’s no longer about food. At least not solely. Particularly when it’s the third Asian venture of restaurateur Bjorn Frantzen. The only chef in the world who, in possibly every existing article including this one, will remind you, helms three separate restaurants holding three Michelin stars each.
After a three-month-long refurbishment, the iconic 1920s shophouse lights up again. Returning folks would find the doorbell-prompted entry akin to revisiting a friend’s abode, while newcomers will delight in its novelty. Hearing it ring upon each party’s arrival from within the building personally invokes a sense of a communal gathering, despite our independent seating. Further playing on the thematic trinity, dining remains divided into three acts across three floors.
Past the homely portière, the scene changes into a grand 16-seat stone counter where chefs flow seamlessly from the stoves to make a stage of your tabletop. This marks the most prominent update of the refresh, which actually promotes unity across the Frantzén Group’s empire. Previously, this outpost used to be the outlier that didn’t greet guests that way.
Post-revamp, dark limestone stucco and Japanese Kit Kat tiles elevate the environment. Yet sheer cotton, linen, and silk against the windows framed by houseplants retain a certain element of domesticity. The bar stool setting may be comparably more formal than before, but the opportunity to witness the sterling canapés assiduously crafted in real time adds a greater dimension to the experience. It also introduces interactivity and distinction in the spaces you ascend through.
Now, where a raw prelude of the ensuing courses arrays on ice, not sparing one poor live lobster embedded within, the second floor keeps the layout fairly untouched. It’s a little less dim and a lot more urban; ambient lighting cast by the dramatic Ann Wolff chandelier reflecting off the copper shade and high-gloss overhead.
Here is likely where diners notice the fantastic playlist setting the tone for unstuffy fine dining. It oddly matches the artwork curated by the group, featuring an eclectic mix of Scandinavian pieces and ornamental displays. Again, consistency is key. Headquarters dictates the menu, with discussions alongside Head Chef Kelvin Ng and team on sourcing practicalities to ensure the highest quality of produce.
It’s a fascinating choice to only present the written menu at the end, although prior patrons know to expect a waffle party to close out the affair. Just don’t repeat someone’s folly of preparing to leave before fruits are served (in my defence, it was a Tuesday night). The magical number of beverage pairing options is another to appreciate: alcoholic, non-alcoholic, or a mix. Conventionally an afterthought that compensates by being too sweet, the alcohol-free fermentations debatably outperformed the wines.
Aesthetically, brand-new carpets among the contemporary swap out of furniture do not taint the snug atmosphere of the final stop. The sleek spiral stairway leading to a loft naturally raises eyebrows, but disappoints with news from staff that it’s simply a storage area. The service team conveys approachability with a tactful warmth that pertains to the establishment’s status. Now that the place is a tad bit ritzier, hospitality and design become the distinguishing factors in what would otherwise be an intimidating meal.
