Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.02.2005, Blaðsíða 26

“Why Not Sell Coffee?”
Helena, another of the owners,
informs me that the original idea was
to open up a culture/art-centre where
all kinds of art could blossom. “But a
centre like that needs a cash flow to
keep it going so we thought, “Why
not sell coffee?”
The place is covered in artwork.
On one wall is a piece made by a
graphic designer, all the tables have
some kind of doodles on them,
and the windows are painted by
an artist. Every Wednesday night
conservationist group Náttúruvaktin
is going to have an open discussion
about their agenda. Thursday nights
are movie nights where arty and
documentary films will be shown and
Saturday nights are concert nights.
A Coffee Shop with a Manifesto
“Last week we had a panel discussion
every day during lunch break and at
the end of the week it was crowded,”
Ásgeir and Helena tell me. They
had Dada Maheshvarananda, a
professor of freedom studies, over
from America to talk about free trade
and explain the philosophy behind
the concept. Ásgeir says that one of
the purposes for opening a café is
to “show people that there are other
ways, other than the capitalist way,
to run a place like this.” Hljómalind
café is unique in our city. It’s
organic, it’s non-smoking and it has
a manifesto.
Desperate Middle-Aged People
and Large Tuxedo-Clad Birds
So it was with some trepidation
that Grapevine’s correspondents
entered Café Victor, situated close
to Ingólfstorg square in downtown
Reykjavík, one stormy night in
January 2005. But we were soon
put at ease by the relaxed and
unpretentious surroundings and
by the fact that Black Elwis was
nowhere to be seen. Café Victor is
a casual and modest place, known
for its hamburgers and sandwiches,
which turns into a hunting ground
for desperate middle-aged people by
night. We sat down by an impressive
painting of a large, tuxedo-clad bird
whose accusing stare dissuaded us
from ordering any of the chicken
dishes on the menu.
Muscular, Shaven-Headed
Waiters
First up was Café Victor’s creamy
seafood soup: an incredibly tasty
and rich tomato-based soup with
an assortment of delicious fresh
seafood that outclasses many of the
seafood soups we have tasted in
much more expensive restaurants.
A very pleasant surprise and highly
recommended. The deep-fried
mozzarella sticks, served with basil
aioli, were pleasant but probably
work best as a beer snack rather than
a part of a full meal. The service
was casual and friendly, although
we sensed that our muscular and
shaven-headed waiter wouldn’t
hesitate to snap us like twigs if we
stepped out of line. Therefore we
didn’t dare to make a fuss when
we had to wait for a considerable
amount of time before ordering the
main courses.
Black Elwis Comeback Special?
The fish of the day was well worth
the wait: monkfish (a particular
favourite of ours), pan-fried, served
on risotto, with snap beans, feta
cheese and sun-dried tomatoes. The
fish was juicy and not overcooked
and the risotto had a very pleasant
white wine flavour. Feta cheese is
an overused accompaniment, but
did little to distract from the overall
effect. The spaghetti carbonara with
bacon, garlic and parmesan cheese
was tasty, if a little dry, and the
grilled lamb with potato wedges,
fried vegetables and wild mushroom
sauce was excellent. The meat was
tender and juicy and the sauce was
so good that we only wished that
there was more of it. All in all, a very
enjoyable gastronomic experience,
made all the more pleasant by the
fact that it was so unexpected. Let’s
just hope that Black Elwis won’t
make any comeback specials in the
near future.
FOOD
RUNNING A CAFÉ
THE NON-CAPITALIST WAY
“We were tired of being neutral, tired of pointing out the failures in the society. We wanted to get
inside and do things our way,” says Ásgeir, one of the owners of Hljómalind. The name of the café comes
from the legendary record shop that used to be in the same house. It’s co-operated by seven people, who
all own equal shares. They work by the guidelines of fair trade, which means that everyone gets paid a
reasonable amount of money that will enable them to support their families and live a decent life. Any
surplus income goes to charity.
Our first encounter with Café Victor was a traumatic experience.
We entered the place late one Monday evening in December 2002,
after having attended the first of Nick Cave’s two excellent concerts
in Reykjavík. We decided against having a beer when we saw
a large sign over the bar advertising their “Christmas special”:
gingersnap cookies and the traditional Icelandic “blanda”, which
consists of Egils orangeade and the classic Icelandic drink “Malt”, a
sweet malt extract, also from Egils. When we tasted our beverages,
we instantly knew that something was not right. A chat with
the bartender revealed that our “blanda” did not, in fact, contain
any Malt at all, but something called “Black Elwis”: a German
drink that is, as the bottle label claimed, the first bottled beverage
to combine alcohol-free beer and cola and tastes even worse than it
sounds. “Does the German propensity for evil know no bounds?” we
thought, as we staggered out, dazed and confused.
Elwis Has Left
the Building
by Ölvir Gíslason and Kjartan Guðmundsson
by Ilmur Dögg Gísladóttir
G
úndi
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úndi
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