Reykjavík Grapevine - 03.09.2004, Blaðsíða 30

FRY AND THE
FAMILY STONE
by Ölvir Gíslason and Kjartan Guðmundsson
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”My dream was always to become a slave to an
arabic king”
by Tero Mustonen
Rainy Thursday night washes Akureyri clean. My friend and I are thinking of finding a new
place to dine. Word of mouth tells of a new interesting place up in Öxnadalur, 20 minutes away from
Akureyri on the main road.
Studies have shown that a surprisingly large number of men
fantasise about having beautiful women dress them in an apron and
chef ’s hat. We can almost guarantee that the only place in Reykjavík
where you can make that dream come true is Café Ópera in Lækjar-
gata.
We jump into car and drive to
Háls, the last house on the right,
in the valley among the dramatic
mountains of Öxnadalur. Close by,
the Home of the Winds glacier huffs
and puffs, perhaps watching us.
Stimulated by the dramatic scenery
we start to talk of Icelandic ghosts
and the hidden people...
”It is business doing pleasure with
Grapevine’s correspondents
arrived early in the evening so we
were practically the only guests
there, but that would change soon.
The first things that greeted us when
we came up the stairs boded well
for the evening ahead: A life-size
statue of an Afro-American clown
and a vintage jukebox. We were
seated by the window in the pleasant
dining room, so we could enjoy the
spectacular view which included two
of Reykjavík’s major landmarks: The
hot-dog stand on the Lækjartorg
square and “Núllið”, Reykjavík’s only
proper public convenience (urinating
is complementary but you have to
pay a small fee for more extensive
operations).
One of us lit a cigarette
while we leafed through the
appetizing menus and then came
the first shock of the evening:
smoking is completely forbidden in
the restaurant. The smokers in the
group were relieved, though, when
they were informed that they were
allowed to smoke in the lounge
upstairs. While there, we chatted
with the Swedish engineer Inge
Gunnar Jonsson, who complained
bitterly about being relegated to the
attic to satisfy his addiction. When
Swedes complain of over-regulation
you know that something is wrong.
The homely wood-panelled lounge
itself was extremely cosy, though,
and in fact reminded us of the
editor’s home, the only difference
being the lack of hairballs, empty
beer cans and stacks of John
Cougar Mellencamp CDs (Bruce
Springsteen, goddammit. How often
do I have to say this?-Ed).
When we returned
downstairs, it was time to order
the starters. One of us went for the
cream of wild goose – delicious,
although a little to salty (strange,
since the soup had nothing to
hide, taste-wise), another tried the
“foie gras,” French duck liver (or
“Freedom duck liver”, as he insisted
on calling it), which was stunningly
delicious and melted in the mouth
like butter. Much to our surprise,
our editor, who was celebrating his
birthday, ordered the only vegetable
starter on the menu: eggplant and
parmesan tart, served with smoked
cheese, arugula and tomato “confit.”
We suspected that perhaps he was
on a mission to iron out the wrinkles
in his birthday suit. As the evening
wore on, it became increasingly
clear that these suspicions were
completely groundless.
Café Ópera’s speciality
is their “Hot Rock Fantasy”: The
diners fry their meal themselves on
piping hot granite rocks. There are
two options: Meat Fantasy (cuts
of beef, lamb and pork) and Fish
Fantasy. At first we thought that
the latter had something to do with
Fish, former lead singer of Marillion.
Guðrún and Tanja, our astoundingly
gorgeous waitresses, were quick to
correct us: The Fish Fantasy consists
of various fresh seafood: Salmon,
tuna, scallop, lobsters and shrimp.
We ordered a combination of the
two fantasies, Guðrún and Tanja
dressed us in aprons and chefs’ hats,
and soon we were frying away. The
fish and meat was fresh and tasty
and was served with a baked potato
filled with cream cheese, garlic
butter for frying and two different
sauces: Barbecue and soya. The
barbecue sauce wasn’t in quite the
same class as the rest of the meal; a
good French mustard would have
been more appropriate. Dazed after
this feast, we retired to the upstairs
lounge for dessert and coffee.
Grapevine’s correspondents shared a
tasting of sorbets and custards. Two
obese thumbs up.
you” says the sign on the left as we
turn from the main road and enter
the restaurant yard. Rain intensifies.
Inside the host Guðveig
Eyglóardóttir, a native of Borganes,
welcomes us warmly. Born to a
family of seven children, she has
had extensive training in cooking in
Snæfellsnes before renting this house
in Öxnadalur as a restaurant that was
opened 26th June 2004.
We are treated to a four-course
dinner, including a soup with
shrimp, squid, scallops, crowberry
& ice cream and coffee. Throw in
some wasabi and you start to get a
good sense of the evening’s offerings.
The menu rotates; actually there is
no menu. The dishes change daily,
depending on the seasonal cycle of
the year and the moods of Guðveig.
Meat dishes such as a whale course
are available later in the year ”as the
nights get longer and darker.” The
evening is crowned with home-
brewed ”Fíflavin”, a secret local wine
product made out of dandelion.
The wine is on the sweet side, as is
the hostess. All this for 3900 ISK,
depending again on her mood.
”My dream was always to become
a slave to an Arabic King,” says the
colourful character that operates
this bizarre but interesting little
restaurant. The house is filled
with Arabic rugs, Persian music
playing softly in the background,
and bizarre items referring to the
Arab world around the dining hall.
One half expects late great qawwali
singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan from
Pakistan or one of his relatives to
show up and do an improvised gig
here in the embrace of the mountains
of Öxnadalur.
Guðveig lives in nature and from
nature. As a fisherwoman, she gets
local trout from the streams, berries
from the mountains and seafood by
supporting the local fishermen. In
the little house in the mountains,
the best thing is the hostess herself.
A colourful and straightforward
personality, Guðveig takes care of
you like no other on the ring road.
You can reach Halastjarna at
halastjarna@simnet.is or by phone at
4617997.
H
.G
.
By the Reykjavík harbour
Suðurbugt Reykjavík harbour
Tel: 551 5101
30