Reykjavik Restaurants and Icelandic Cuisine

In March, my sister let me tag along on her graduation trip to Reykjavik, Iceland. I could describe to you in exquisite detail just how beautiful the country is and how much I loved it, but you would drop dead of exhaustion long before you hit the end of the post, so suffice it to say that pretty much everything you've heard about the island is true. Starkly beautiful landscapes of rock and ice? Check. Awe-inspiring glaciers, volcanos, waterfalls? Check. A capital city full of charm, quirks, and colorful buildings? Check.

But what about the food, you ask? Food, of course, being one of the most important aspects of a particular culture and one of the most memorable parts of any trip? Other than the obligatory taste of hakarl, the rotten shark "delicacy," to put it politely, that all tourists are forced to endure (and which tastes just as good as the name suggests), we didn't have one poor culinary experience. Keep reading for some of the notable places we ate and observations on Icelandic cuisine.

Saegreifinn, or The Sea Baron, is right on the harbor, and makes a great stop after you've finished rummaging through the myriad delights to be found at the Kolaportið flea market. You go in and peruse the refrigerated shelves of kabobs and fish on offer, make your selection, and wait to have your meal prepared and brought to you at the communal table. If you're not in the mood for food on a stick, you can opt for the other option, the one they're actually best known for - a big bowl of smooth, thick, delicious lobster soup. Accompanied by all the flaky bread and rich butter you can eat, the soup is warm and filling, since there's no skipping on the actual lobster. Halfway through, you'll think you want another bowl because it's just so good, only to hit the bottom and realize that you're deliciously stuffed. At about $12 per bowl, you can't go wrong.

Both the bowl and basket were quickly emptied

After an eventful whale-watching tour, we were in the mood for quick and simple food. Enter Baejaerins Betzu Pyslur, also known as The Best Hot Dogs on the Planet. No, seriously. I'm personally not a huge hot dog fan, but in all my research, this little shack in an empty lot on the side of the road kept coming up as a must-see, and if they were good enough for President Clinton, they were good enough for us. And you know what? The hype isn't wrong. These hot dogs are made from a combination of beef, pork, and lamb, and are best enjoyed eina med ollu, or with everything, which means ketchup, spiced mustard, remoulade, raw onions, and fried onions. At about $4 a hot dog, you won't feel any compunction about ordering two or even three. These are the best in the on the planet, after all.

Notice the handy hot dog holders on the table

 The Laundromat Cafe is a small restaurant that, despite its Danish origins, has become somewhat of an Icelandic staple, and rightly so. Whether its the rows of books that patrons can peruse and read (and even take if they leave one in exchange) while eating, the actual laundry machines downstairs, or the racks of magazines hanging in the window, there's a certain charm about the place. It's a little pricier (around $15-16 for a sandwich and fries), but you definitely get your money's worth - serving sizes are huge, easily big enough to share, and the food is tasty. My chicken club sandwich was perhaps one of the best of its kind I've ever tried.

I was tempted to come back and do a load of laundry, just to say I did

Icelandic cuisine consists of a few staple ingredients. It is an island, so fish, of course, plays a huge role, whether in smoked, dried, or pickled form. These methods were the only way to preserve food for long enough to see early Icelanders through the lengthy, harsh winters, and are still popular today, especially smoked lamb. Dark, dense breads like rye were (and are) easy to make, as were thin pancake/crepe-like concoctions that can be served at any meal. Skyr, a thick and protein-rich yogurt, features prominently. So it's fair to say that our meal at Cafe Loki, which included each of these elements, was a pretty fair sampling, and a delicious one at that - there's another picture, taken about twenty minutes after this one, that shows the same plates, only then they had been wiped so clean a dishwasher seemed superfluous (if still a sound sanitary choice).

Pickled herring and eggs on rye, smoked lamb on flatbread, and a Skyr-stuffed caramel pancake

While Iceland may not actually be covered in ice (its proximity to the Gulf Stream means the island actually enjoys a more temperate climate than many parts of the United States, especially those hit by massive snowstorms this past winter), the weather can still be pretty changeable, and grey drizzle is an accepted part of daily life (on the flip side, if you don't like the weather, the Icelanders say, just wait fifteen minutes). If you're looking to get out of the cold and rain for a bit, sneak into C is for Cookie for a cup of some truly delicious hot chocolate.

Happiness in a mug

If you're suffering from a surfeit of pickled herring and sliced egg sandwiches or are just suffering from a Thai craving while in Iceland, don't despair! Try the Noodle Station. You go in, choose whether you want beef, chicken, or tofu, hand over about $11, and enjoy a darn good bowl of noodle soup. The recipe has been in the owner's family for generations - or that's how the story goes, anyway.

We opted for beef. Good decision.

Don't think the international cuisine stops at Thai noodles. Just walking up and down the main street, we passed sushi shops, steak houses, vegetarian and raw bars, bakeries, and Chinese joints. And the native food isn't too shabby either. It's pretty good - delicious, even. Different, perhaps, than what many Americans are used to, but flavorful all the same. Last tip - if you're thinking about souvenirs or gifts for friends, try the ubiquitous dried fish - it's good for you, travels well, and makes a great snack. If not, Icelandic moss tea is just as good for you (I'm sensing a theme - perhaps that's how the Vikings managed to survive and thrive, by eating such healthy food), and easier on the olfactory senses.

One last thing. If you're going to Iceland, you will come across Brennivin, either as you prepare for the trip or as you're out and about. It's called Black Death. There's a good reason why it's called Black Death. Do with this information as you will.

Verdi per ad godu!