Matbaren: A Nobel prize for Stockholm's novel way of dining

There were people sitting on the floor, waiting to get in, something you do not see at the Savoy

Modern Michelin style: at Matbaren, luxury hotel stuffiness gives way to bold colours and clean lines (Philip Karlberg)

The Grand Hotel stands like a sentry across from the King's palace in Stockholm. Its broad wings and well-mannered front reminds me of Wes Anderson's Grand Budapest Hotel, although it is yellow, not pink, and there are no murderers here.

The hotel has all the things you imagine a 278-room five-star hotel, which has hosted guests ranging from Nikita Khrushchev to Haile Selassie, would have. There is a spa, a gym, a swimming pool, a capacious bar, a ballroom, which used to host the Nobel Prize ceremony, staff dressed in tail coats and large smiles. It is in most senses the archetype of a luxury hotel in a modern European capital. Or at least in every sense save for its restaurant.

Restaurants in the grandest hotels tend to be stuffy. The first hint that Matbaren wasn't going to be like that came when I rounded the corner towards the entrance. There were people sitting on the floor, waiting to get in, something you do not see at the Savoy.

The reason for the enthusiasm is two-fold: they keep tables for walk-ins at both sittings and, more importantly, the place is run by Mathias Dahlgren, the Swedish super-chef who won the Bocuse d'Or in 1997 and whose two restaurants in the hotel have one and two Michelin stars respectively.

Matbaren is the one-star joint, arranged around a stainless-steel bar with an open kitchen just beyond it. The carpet is not four inches thick and soft furnishings are entirely absent. You could call it Michelin-Modern. I liked it. I also liked the food; more than that, I liked how it was served.

Instead of asking you to choose four dishes from the menu the moment you sit down, they ask you to choose one thing and then, as our waiter explained, “See how hungry you feel and choose the next course” – a sentiment so simple and so welcome and yet one I have never been offered before in a restaurant.

Some will argue that it is impractical for kitchens to produce food in this way. And perhaps it does make things more difficult – but Michelin-starred restaurants should deal in the art of the possible. That's what you pay for. And it pleases the punters.

The game I play in my mind every time I go somewhere new might be familiar to you, too. I look at the dishes and wonder if they will be too much or too little – I try to marry my hunger with my expectation of dish size. It's an inexact science that consists in me saying things such as, “Will I need potatoes with my sea bass?” or “Will the steak and ale pie be big enough for my post-gym hunger?”

You don't have to do that at Matbaren. You can keep your mind free for conversation – or the drinks list. I ordered chunky dumplings with sweet little mushrooms and black truffle frosting, which were as cosy as the duvets in the rooms. I stopped. I order some steamed cod in a little lake of soy and coriander and sprouts. I paused and then greedily ordered another stellar dish, of goat curry from Mardstorpsgard, a place name that defeats me and Google. I ate these dishes at my own pace, in the order I wanted, and most of them were between £15 and £20.

If restaurants had Nobel prizes I'd give one to Matbaren.

grandhotel.se