Maaemo
Maaemo is a paragon of fine dining establishments, known for its exceptional ceiling height, well-proportioned layout, warm and considerate service, and dishes that capture the essence of Norwegian local flavors. I value Maaemo's minimalist approach, free from unnecessary noise, fragrances, lighting effects, and formalities, much like a peaceful snowfall gracing an empty Norwegian fjord.
This is the world's northernmost three-Michelin-starred restaurant, and the sole one in Norway. On this particular trip, I ventured to a country specifically for a dining experience, spending a night in Oslo solely for the sake of Maaemo.
Despite Maaemo having a sister restaurant, EHB, in Shanghai, I uphold the principle of visiting the flagship establishment before its branches. Frankly, I do not find the menu at EHB particularly appealing.
With my collection of restaurant reviews now numbering in the thousands, my focus on eateries has narrowed to two primary aspects: (1) "Regional Identity": How well does a restaurant embody and communicate the spirit and narrative of its host city? (2) "Innovation": How much can one discern about the chef's character, passions, and sentiments through the restaurant's menu?
Therefore, while EHB fails to pique my interest, Maaemo holds a deep fascination for me.
Even though the food might not be conventionally delectable, it delivers exactly what I envisioned tasting in Norway:
Ingredients sourced locally, such as king crab, cod, scallops, Arctic shrimp, oysters, trout roe, reindeer meat (including heart and fat), mushrooms, and truffles from Norwegian waters and forests, offering a pure expression of flavors that echo glaciers, oceans, forests, and soil.
The presentation is visually poetic, reminiscent of winter preservation, featuring wabi-sabi inspired tableware.
Similarly, although the interior lacks grandiose architecture and decoration, Maaemo presents exactly what I anticipated encountering in Norway:
Similarly, despite the lack of opulent architecture and decor, Maaemo offers precisely what I anticipated experiencing in Norway:
A double-story height space with dark tones, restrained lighting, flickering candlelight, and a main dining area devoid of music.
It always conjures images of early winter sunsets when sitting amidst towering, snow-covered trees beside a tranquil, solitary cabin emitting warm yellow light, awaiting guests to ring the doorbell.
Maaemo is a culinary destination distinct from those found in Paris; it doesn't emulate the Parisian flair of Geranium or possess the universal allure of Alchemist. It is firmly grounded in Nordic traditions and is quintessentially Norwegian; transplanting this menu elsewhere would strip it of its authenticity, even if replicated meticulously.
Furthermore, Maaemo is somewhat underestimated; despite earning its Michelin stars early on, securing a reservation is relatively straightforward with many available dates. Its reputation lags behind that of Noma and Geranium, both of which top global rankings but benefit from being in high-profile cities. Compared to Frantzen, it boasts a larger seating capacity, and in terms of theatrical elements and multisensory experiences, it is less elaborate than Alchemist. Maaemo demands a more profound, contemplative admiration.
Arriving in Oslo after an afternoon snowfall, the evening was hushed, with the crunch of ice underfoot resonating through the broad, icy streets. Sparse pedestrians and the crisp, still air added to the ambiance.
Upon reaching the address for Maaemo, a tall, curved wooden door stood shut, adorned with a diminutive metal plate subtly indicating the restaurant's name and its three Michelin stars. Upon ringing the doorbell, the door creaked open to reveal a quartet of attendants ready to receive my coat and hat.
Descending a spiral staircase, I entered a softly lit lounge where hot towels were offered and glasses of water and juice were poured liberally. Although the juice was an extra order, it was replenished generously throughout the meal.
Candlelight danced across the table as I nestled into a sofa to relish five pre-meal bites. Patrons conversed amiably around me, fostering an ambiance akin to a cozy living room, complete with a crackling fireplace.
First Course: Large Shrimp Wrap. Cold-water Arctic shrimp lightly seared, paired with horseradish cream mashed potatoes, placed on a warm mini tortilla, accompanied by pickled summer crops, rolled together for a comforting start.
Second Course: Foie Gras. A brioche base topped with cheese, foie gras, and some artichoke mixture, sprinkled with chestnut flour. This dish transitioned from ocean to land, yet remained anchored in carbohydrates.
Third Course: Beetroot Rose. A delicate rose crafted from beetroot, featuring color gradients and dew-like droplets reminiscent of morning mist.
Fourth Course: Beef Tartare. The server passionately introduced this as his favorite among the starters, and indeed, it was expertly prepared. The aged beef, rich in tender oils after confit, was combined with a fruit gel made from wood avens and pine nuts, adding a refreshing fruity acidity to the fatty base.
Fifth Course: Roe. Preserved trout roe matched with thinly sliced apples, reportedly incorporating reindeer heart, though its presence was unclear.
After finishing the pre-meal snacks, I was led upstairs to the main dining area. Upon entering, I felt an immediate sense of ease and spaciousness due to the room's impeccable square dimensions and unmatched ceiling height, estimated at around 4-5 meters, imparting a feeling of openness. Spanning approximately 300 square meters, two inverted funnel-shaped columns separated the dining area from the service kitchen.
The dining area featured ten tables arranged symmetrically, flanked by large paintings on both sides, with no central lighting fixture. Instead, spotlights illuminated the artwork and tables, augmented by candlelight, casting the space in a dark and woody palette.
On the opposite side lay the service kitchen, exuding tranquility and spaciousness. Chefs donned pristine white uniforms and towering hats, and the kitchen lighting was ingeniously designed to remain inconspicuous until chefs approached, ensuring they could see their workstations without unnecessary glare disturbing diners' views.
The main dining space lacked background music, with four servers in the front and four chefs in the kitchen, maintaining an airy feel despite the modest staffing. I admired the restraint in the space, where every light and person served a purpose, making the entire serving process streamlined and free from lengthy explanations or elaborate ingredient displays.
Over eight courses in the main dining space, the first four focused on seafood, followed by four dedicated to land-based ingredients. I also opted for the juice pairing, which was similarly unlimited.
Sixth Course: Oysters. A Maaemo classic since 2014, this signature dish presented an ice glacier-inspired plate with hidden oyster flavor complemented by a touch of dairy. Paired with a peculiar yet harmonious juice, apple-based with a strong leafy note.
Seventh Course: King Crab. Resembling a bowl of milk, this dish actually consisted of hazelnut milk with hints of white asparagus, hiding gently cooked king crab meat beneath frothy milk foam. Accompanied by a smoky apple juice.
Eighth Course: Norwegian Arctic Cod. Visually stunning, this dish resembled a smooth jade stone when brought to the table. With a texture akin to scallops but softer, it was revealed to be Arctic cod from Northern Norway, unlike any cod I'd tasted before. The fish was delicately cooked, seasoned with olive oil, butter, and lemon verbena oil.
Ninth Course: Honey-glazed Scallops. Plump scallops glazed with honey and roasted, served with a pumpkin burnt onion sauce. This course was notably salty, necessitating pairing with berry-flavored juices for balance.
Tenth Course: Reindeer Meat. Wild-caught reindeer, hunted by an accomplished hunter, was grilled over charcoal. However, the intense gamey flavor of the reindeer meat was too overpowering for my palate, causing me to spit it out, although it was a fittingly authentic Norwegian dish. The meat rested on a bed of wild berry sauce and traditional Norwegian sour cream porridge (Rømmegrøt).
Breads: Specially crafted bread was brushed with reindeer fat and sour honey, giving it a lustrous sheen. Served with winter truffle butter, this dense bread continued the theme of bold, savory flavors in the land-based courses.
Eleventh Course: Mushroom Soup. A clear broth combining mushrooms and juniper berries, predominantly tasting of mushrooms. The final juice pairing in this series was floral.
Twelfth Course: Sheep Milk Jelly. A dessert consisting of a sweet crispy layer on top, followed by sheep milk ice cream and a bottom layer of jam. This dish maintained the slightly heavier, earthy style of the land courses.
After completing the main menu, we returned to the lounge area, resuming our seats for the dessert course.
Thirteenth Course: Milk Ice Cream. Scoops of milk ice cream nestled in a crispy cone, enhanced with caramel and coffee notes, proved delightful.
Fourteenth Course: Cinnamon Roll with Wild Chamomile and Pine Cones Soft Candy. Freshly baked cinnamon rolls, served warm alongside sticky sweets, were incredibly sweet. The neighboring Chinese guests stopped eating after one bite, but the server persistently encouraged them to try more—a testament to how Norwegians cherish and take pride in this particular dessert.