Reykjavík Grapevine - 25.08.2006, Side 18

Gunnar Hrafn Jónsson on Reykjavík Dining Photos by Gúndi and Skari
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DINING, EATING
GRUBBING&
Aðalstræti 2
Tel.: 511-1212
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Sjávarkjallarinn
Sjávarkjallarinn roughly translates to “the sea
cellar”, but don’t let the name fool you – this
isn’t a hangout for drunken sailors but surely
one of the finest seafood restaurants in Rey-
kjavík. Their two celebrated chefs have each
won the ‘Icelandic Chef of the Year’ award and
they have two junior champions as apprentices.
Arriving on a Sunday evening to find the place
packed and customers being turned away, we
felt a tinge of guilt but were further reassured
that this place would provide us with one of the
better dining experiences available in the city.
The staff was attentive, and not afraid to
smile. They rose to the challenge of describ-
ing the sometimes ridiculously wide variety of
fancy-sounding ingredients without missing
a beat. The sashimi and nigri on the starter
menu turned out to be a clue to the fact that
one of the main influences on the chefs at Sjá-
varkjallarinn is Asian cuisine. Practically eve-
rything was served with (or on) exotic looking
leaves and delicate bamboo ornaments. Some
of the less recognisable ingredients turned
out to be of Asian origin as well. The fusion
works unbelievably well. The HUGE lobster
platter my dining partner was presented with,
for example, contained such things as wasabi
and cream sauce. It was truly a feast. My tuna
steak with king crab was served tandoori style
with satay sauce and god knows what else – the
f lavours came at me from all directions and I
couldn’t have been more satisfied.
The dessert menu arrived in the form of a
billboard-sized plaque that looked as comi-
cally oversized as those cheques one only sees
at award ceremonies and charity events. As
unwieldy as the thing was to hold at the table,
the sorbet and wild-cacao bean soufflé we
picked out from it were both mind-blowing.
The wild-cacao bean is a notoriously danger-
ous creature, and fights to the death when
cornered, so it is a testament to the profession-
alism and dedication of the staff that they risk
life and limb to apprehend this elusive but deli-
cious prey. All kidding aside, it was delicious.
Overall, we were greatly impressed with
Sjávarkjallarin and the prices were surpris-
ingly fair, considering the artistry involved in
the creation of each dish (eating them really
does feel like trashing a masterpiece) – and the
obvious demand.
Geirsgata 9
Tel.: 511-3474
$
Tveir FiSkar
The Grapevine’s food critic was recently chal-
lenged, by a clown no less, to find dolphin
on the menu of an Icelandic restaurant. His
reasoning was that while the locals are non-
chalant about eating whale, they might think
twice about scarfing down the cuter and sil-
lier sea mammals that most people associate
with theme parks and children’s TV. In fact,
they are often nicknamed “clowns of the sea.”
Not wanting to shrink from the challenge,
The Grapevine’s intrepid staff made some
phone calls and arranged to take the jester out
for raw dolphin at Tveir Fiskar.
As it turns out, raw dolphin carpaccio is really
quite good. It was prepared just like the more
traditional beef variety, and the combination
of f lavours was exciting but not as ‘differ-
ent’ as one might expect. The other starter, a
bouillabaisse seafood soup, was good but a bit
on the greasy side. This is a definite trend in
Icelandic seafood cuisine of late, but excessive
oil can sometimes make a soup too demand-
ing to properly serve as a starter.
Our main courses were salted fish
(bacalao) in almond and parmigiano crust
with tomato vinaigrette, and lobster in garlic,
respectively. The fish was quite different from
what Icelanders think of when you say salted
fish – and that is a very good thing indeed.
The dish had a pronounced Mediterranean
feel. The lobster, or langoustine for the pur-
ists, was served ‘the old way’, according to the
menu. That consists of garlic butter, various
unnamed spices, and bread. Considering the
ingredients and the class of the restaurant,
the result was unsurprisingly delicious.
The skyr tiramisu didn’t seem to contain
a lot of skyr, but was still a damn fine dessert.
The chocolate souff lé with mango sorbet was
equally impressive. The only problem with
the restaurant is the way the main dining area
is set up. When you first arrive you are seated
in an extremely comfortable environment
with comfortable couches, a well-stocked bar
and even artificial northern lights shining
above. You can in fact choose to remain there
until your dinner arrives, but once you move
into the dining area the contrast becomes ap-
parent. That minor gripe aside, Tveir Fiskar
is a great place to get expertly prepared, fresh
fish.
and a mix of privacy and intimacy; there are
only a couple of tables per room in just a few
rooms.
On the subject of the actual food and
service, it’s equally hard to comment without
having it sound like a sales pitch: they are
just that good.
After we were seated and provided with
bread that seemed to be right out of the
oven, we ordered a starter of seafood soup
and smoked guillemot, which is a bird native
to Iceland, just as practically all the other
items on the menu seemed to be. Suffice to
say both were brilliant; I actually slurped the
remains of the soup up from the bowl when
no one was looking. Just as we were finishing
up, the head chef came out with a mischie-
vous grin and two plates, each holding a
divine portion of what appeared to be garlic-
sautéed lobster and scallop. It went perfectly
with the white wine that the friendly and
helpful waiter recommended.
We were already sold on this being one
of the best meals of our lives when the main
courses arrived – a honey-roasted spotted
catfish in red wine sauce and another kind of
catfish sautéed in butter. Both were beyond
words, cooked to perfection and seasoned by
the Gods. The red wine sauce may have been
a tad thin for my tastes, but that’s so petty it’s
a bit like saying Gandhi is your hero but you
don’t like the bald look – a minor detail.
Lastly, the dessert didn’t let the rest of the
meal down. I ordered the skyr, and much to
my delight it was served exactly the way my
grandmother in Skagafjörður used to present
it for special occasions.
$
Traditional Fish, Northern Style
by bart cameron
Across Iceland, there are dozens of
legendary establishments that justify
lengthy pilgrimages through the
most imposing of driving condi-
tions. The first that comes to mind
is the storied Við Fjöruborðið, the
lobster restaurant in Stokkseyri that
has made a lobster and Brennivín
addict out of Dave Grohl and the
Foo Fighters. Við Fjöruborðið is
adored because people throughout
southern Iceland know exactly what
to expect from the chefs there:
good, fresh lobster, prepared in the
traditional style. The added bonus is
the complete lack of pretension that
comes with dining in a working,
thriving small town.
In this same league is the
Ísafjörður restaurant Tjöruhúsið.
Located in the Ísafjörður Maritime
Museum, the restaurant does its
first job right: it serves traditional
local food simply and well. In this
case, though, you don’t get lobster,
but Iceland’s real staples: haddock
and cod, presented best in plok-
kfiskur, the mashed dish that should
be the pride of the Icelandic cooking
tradition.
If you want to really enjoy fish,
and forget about the fact that you’re
eating something healthy and that
people tell you to eat, then you have
to hit up Tjöruhúsið… oh wait, this
recommendation doesn’t work for
a place located in the most remote
major town in Iceland. Fine. But
it’s worth scheduling your visit to
northern Iceland around this estab-
lishment, just as a visit to Reykjavík
should make room for a 45-minute
drive to Stokkseyri.
Bezt í Heimi is a recommenda-
tion we only give to places that are
the best of their type in the friggin
world. Honestly, it takes more than
just well-prepared fish to earn such
a label. The great Ísafjörður summer
restaurant has the little extra that
the Grapevine staff has to reward: it
has a likeable staff, a lack of preten-
sion and an excellent relationship
with its community.
Take our visits to Tjöruhúsið in
the last week, when we were touring
the country. When we first stopped
in for plokkfiskur, we walked in
on a gang of marauding pop punk
rockers hanging from the rafters.
The band was called Lack of Talent,
and the chef, waitress, and quite a
few older clientele were enjoying
the show over fish and chilled white
wine.
To see such an occasion is to
assume that Tjöruhúsið is some kind
of product of a gourmet hippie com-
mune. But to see it the next night,
for a local saltfish celebration, when
we were the only visitors without
ties, was to realise the f lexibility of
the staff, and the genuine cool of the
restaurant.
In all, in two days in Ísafjörður,
the Grapevine consumed three
meals at Tjöruhúsið. After two
days of constant fish consump-
tion, a healthy pallor started to
come through on our skin, and the
omega oils began to make us feel,
not giddy, but not so hateful. We
came to a shocking realisation that
if we had this place in Reykjavík, we
would move in.
we recommend
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