Football focus I was born in Stockholm (in Sweden) in 1977. I have a younger brother and sister. My father was a car mechanic and my mother sells wood for the construc­tion of houses. It was a traditional life growing up in the city’s suburbs – working class, nothing fancy pants.

At school, I met the girl who would become my wife, Sara – I started dating her when I was 13. Also when I was 13, I was admit­ted to the biggest football club in Scandinavia, AIK (Allmänna Idrottsklubben). I played first in the junior squad and then in the senior. It was a youngster’s dream. I left school at 18 and continued playing for AIK for two years, but then I was forced to quit. It was a congenital problem with my heart. It wasn’t danger­ous, but it meant I couldn’t continue playing without a pacemaker, which I didn’t want.

It was disappoint­ing but I’ve always been good about turning a negative into a positive. While I was play­ing football, I was also going to catering college – cooking was always my backup plan.

The right ingredients When I was 20, I did military service in Lapland, northern Sweden – it was obligatory at the time. I enjoyed being part of a team and spending time outdoors. The winter was very cold – it got down to minus 40 degrees Celsius – but the summer was more difficult, because there were so many mosquitoes.

When I came out after a year, there was no doubt in my mind about what I would do – I wanted a position in the best kitchen in Sweden. I got a job as an intern with chef Christer Lingström at Edsbacka Krog (in Sollentuna, just north of Stockholm), which was the first restaurant in Sweden to get two Michelin stars. It was the perfect substitute for professional football, the closest I could get to the dressing-room feeling – a group of people coming together to perform at a high level and with high expectations.

After a year, I went to Lords of the Manor, in Cheltenham, in the UK, and then to Chez Nico’s, at 90 Park Lane, in London. Then it was back to Edsbacka for a year and to the UK again for almost five years. Everyone in London was cooking very French food, so, in 2002, I decided to go to Paris and see how they were cooking it there. What Alain Passard, at the three-Michelin-star restaurant L’Arpège, was cooking wasn’t very French; he was more about the quality of the ingredients.

Star performer When I returned to Sweden, I promised my family I’d stay put for a while, but one month later, I was offered a job I couldn’t refuse – working as a chef on a cruise ship in Antarctica. It was mind-blowing to see the animals down there. It was tough some days, with 12- to 14-metre-high waves; some boats have been known to go down crossing the Drake Passage.

When I got back to Stockholm, my business partner, pastry chef Daniel Lindeberg, and I opened our first restaurant (Frantzén/Lindeberg, in Gamla Stan, the old town), in 2008. It took years to find a space and get backing. I put our apartment up as security. It was 18 seats, all we could afford. Frantzén/Lindeberg had great reviews and 10 months later we got our first Michelin star. A year on, we were the third two-Michelin-star restaurant in Sweden.

Pub grub We opened our second restaurant, The Flying Elk, in 2013, just across the street from Frantzén/ Lindeberg. There were a lot of great French brasseries in the city, so we wanted to do something different. I’d spent a lot of the time in the UK, where my only day off was Sunday, and what do you do then? You go to the pub. We aimed to create an English-Nordic pub. There are a lot of Nordic ingredients – Swedish caviar and pickled and preserved foods – but we also have fish and chips.Getting out of the kitchen As you get older, you have to decide whether to stop at one restaurant or expand, to give yourself more freedom and cash flow and a chance to spend more time with your family. In 2016, we set up Frantzén’s Kitchen in Sheung Wan and, last year, we established The Flying Elk in Central. Jim Löfdahl, head chef at The Flying Elk in Hong Kong, was the first guy I employed back in 2008. He was ready for a challenge.

If you buy an Armani suit, you don’t expect Giorgio Armani to have made it himself, but if Giorgio had only one small shop in a village in Italy, then you would expect him to be there every day. For me, with two children, aged eight and 12, it wasn’t the kind of life I wanted to lead. I still make the playlists for the restaurants, choose the cutlery and plates and am part of the food everywhere, including Hong Kong, but I’m in more of a back-seat role.

Going local When there is time, I enjoy fine dining at Richard Ekkebus’ Amber at the Landmark Mandarin Oriental, or just get a beer and a kebab on the way home after work. There’s a big Scandinavian community in the city and it’s been fairly easy to get ingredients.

Given every­thing that’s happening with climate change, we try to limit the ingredients that need to be flown in, which means pulling back on the fish or shell­fish. Instead, it’s more about the spices and transporting things that are frozen, pickled, fermented and dried, and trying to use as much as possible that is local.

Just for starters When I was younger, I was serious and that was good; it has paid off. If I could give some advice to my younger self, it would be to not worry too much. Things tend to work out in the end. If I’d known that, it would have saved me a lot of sleepless nights. I’m 42. If I had been a footballer, I’d have had to retire by now, but for me, things are just getting started.

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