Martin Öfner listens to rhythm rather than recipes.
Raised in Austria’s largest nature park and now Executive Chef at Singapore’s three-Michelin-starred Zén, Öfner’s journey spans Alpine kitchens, Nordic laboratories, and Japanese precision. But his food isn’t just a sum of influences. It’s something quieter, deeper, and surprisingly personal.
“Tyrol, where I grew up, moves at its own rhythm,” he tells me. “Life there is about being close to nature, valuing tradition, and cherishing what each season brings.” In a world obsessed with novelty, Öfner’s philosophy is rooted in patience and seasonality. He recalls honest, simple food shared around a table, and the unspoken rituals of Alpine life that still echo in his kitchen.
This grounding began at home, in his grandmother’s kitchen. While she wasn’t preparing sea urchin or sashimi, Öfner credits her with igniting something essential. “Even though I chose this path out of my own conviction, that early spark from her is still something I carry with me today.”
At Zén, the culinary language is Nordic-Japanese, a dialogue of precision and restraint. But despite his Austrian roots, Öfner is quick to clarify: “The goal was never to deliberately bring Austrian flavours into the food.” Instead, his approach is shaped by years spent in Scandinavia’s finest kitchens, including Frantzén and Geranium. “It’s more about continuing that Nordic-Japanese conversation than adding another accent.”
And yet, when pressed, he does acknowledge the more subtle merit of Austrian cuisine. “It’s not cinematic in the way people want now,” he laughs. “There’s no grand gestures. It’s comfort and honesty. But to me, there’s elegance in that rhythm, in the way people gather around a table.”
That momentum drives his process. When asked whether memory, mood, or technique leads the way, Öfner doesn’t hesitate. “Technique is always the safety net. Without it, nothing makes it to the plate.” But it’s not cold precision, his process is undoubtedly collaborative. “Sometimes it’s that moment of revelation. Sometimes it’s when the team looks up at one another and you feel that spark.”
Creative freedom, in a three-star kitchen, might sound paradoxical. Not to Öfner. “Sometimes I think high standards and creativity push each other,” he says. “I ask myself: OK nice, but how can I make this even better?”
When I ask him to imagine Zén as a fashion house, he resists labels. “Not minimal or maximal,” he says. “The focus would be on elegance and precision. Artistry in the details.” Unlike other chefs who compare plating to styling, Öfner stays grounded. “I think like a chef. And somehow, that’s worked out pretty well for me.”
He also knows when to let go. “Sometimes the dish just doesn’t land. You wait. You try. And then you set it aside. Rejection is just as important as discovery.”
Having worked in some of Europe’s most ambitious kitchens, Öfner pinpoints when he found his voice. “Probably with the second menu at Zén, when I fully took over,” he reflects. “But honestly, the heart of it hasn’t changed. I cook to create moments that make others happy. That hasn’t shifted, just the context.”
If there’s a dish that captures his journey, he skips it. Not out of modesty, but because the story’s still unfolding.
What has changed him is movement. “Moving further from home is always transformative,” he says. While many associate him with Stockholm, he actually moved from Shanghai to Singapore. “It opened me to new ingredients, new cultures, new ways of thinking. And being far from home made me more aware of what really matters.”
Öfner’s voice is calm, measured, and unpretentious, much like his food. There’s no ego, no theatrics. Just a quiet confidence in flavour, rhythm, and emotional depth. If elegance lies in restraint, then Zén’s kitchen, under Öfner’s watch, is haute couture in slow motion.
As he puts it: “I think the joy and pride of shaping memories on a plate… that never leaves you.”