A dramatic space in a former warehouse is made even more theatrical by clever lighting: the darkness of the dining room is juxtaposed with the brightness of the open kitchen, which sits on one side of the room like a stage. Tablecloths are black; the uniforms of the waitstaff are black, but your eyes are drawn inexorably towards the white-jacketed chefs as they go about their work with quiet efficiency. Eating here may be a serious business, but happily the place isn’t blighted by a monastic atmosphere—a contented buzz fills the room, helped along by the chefs who deliver the dishes themselves and describe them with contagious enthusiasm. Expect around 19 courses—that may seem daunting but each one, whether a squid tart or meltingly soft dry-aged ribeye, is small and exquisitely formed. Swedish chef Fredrik Berselius and his team use a myriad of techniques from fermenting and pickling to curing, smoking and preserving. This is new Nordic cuisine that celebrates man’s relationship with nature and the changing seasons. It’s clever without being self-congratulatory, original without being gimmicky and complex without being complicated—a kitchen shimmering with intelligence.