Reykjavík Grapevine - 26.08.2011, Blaðsíða 14

Experience excitement in Iceland’s
pure nature or get a bird’s eye view
of the country’s most beautiful places
Adventure tours Air charter servicesScheduled flights
This tour takes you from Reykjavík
to the island of Heimaey in the
Westman Islands archipelago.
Boat trip on the Glacier lagoon and
an ATV excursion in the area of
Europe’s largest glacier, Vatnajökull.
A never-to-be-forgotten trip
showing the sharply contrasting
faces of Iceland’s natural features.
Activity
Adventure
A Historical Tour of
the Westman Islands
Ice and Fire –
Glaciers and Volcanoes
Reykjavík Airport | +354 562 4200
info@eagleair.is | www.eagleair.is
Bookingsand information
14
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 13 — 2011 Did you tour 'round Iceland this summer? Did you have problems finding decent,
healthy food on your travels? Tell us about it: letters@grapevine.is
Food | Icelandic
First off, a little waxing lyrical:
Last year my partner and I mean-
dered across Iceland on a budget of
3.000 ISK/day with nothing but an
old Toyota jeep, our wits and a flimsy
tent. It was one of the most refresh-
ing experiences of my life. I urge you
to try it: a complete wham-bam tour
of Iceland in your own fully-oiled,
four-wheel-drive dump-truck—on
and off road, through storm, sun
and sideways hail, under rainbows;
and for heaven’s sake, save yourself
ample time to pick wild blueberries
and gambol with Huldufólk (the hid-
den people).
With or without purple fingers
you’ll never quite look at anything
the same way again. Honest.
If you have the time, take three or even
four weeks. Gently coast along, stopping
to admire waterfalls or rock formations
at your own leisure. There’s nothing like
dodging a tern-attack or getting a whiff
of live seal—it may put you off eating
seal meat forever, but then again, you’re
probably going back to Italy or Germany
or the USA, so in all likelihood there’s
not going to be seal on the menu in the
foreseeable future. Greenlanders? Well,
that’s another food for thought.
You may even, as I did, have the
amazing fortune to come face-to-muz-
zle with an arctic fox at the early hours of
the morning as you peek out of your tent
to take the crisp morning air. Watch him
cough and growl then scarper off into
the highlands wiggling his cute-little-
self behind him.
We put close to 2.000 km of road,
highway and gravel behind us, had to
change our tyres twice and almost ran
out of petrol while banking the long,
winding roads to Ísafjörður. And, yes,
travelling around Iceland is no cheap af-
fair, even doing it as we did it, in a tent—
at night temperatures on the ground
drop close to zero. We slept in woollies,
in scarves and caps—once or twice even
in mittens—but it was worth every minor
discomfort.
ARE HOTDOGS THE ICELANDIC
CELERY?
On the vegetable side of things, it was
quite a struggle. Both of us are fully-
fledged carnivores, but we enjoy our
fruit and veg as much as any hard-core
vegetarian, and I’ll tell you this: in two
weeks—from Höfn to Ísafjörður, there
wasn’t a single stalk of celery to be found
in any country store or supermarket.
Now hotdogs you can find anywhere in
Iceland. And I would never begrudge
someone one at Bæjarins beztu with on-
ions and remoulade—along with the Ko-
laportið flea market, it’s part of the cult
of Reykjavík—but honestly, the amount
of hotdogs, filter coffee and ice creams
that they dole out at N1s throughout the
country...I’ve never seen anything like it.
On the road, I heard tell of a French
cyclist who managed to do Iceland on
less than 15 Euros a day (all in). Well,
from what they say he basically lived on
a diet of hot dogs throughout his whole
round-trip and wound up with severe
gastroenteritis. He managed, but just by
the skin of his small intestine.
I know you’re thinking what gives
with the celery craving? Well, I’ll tell you
it’s the perfect snack when you’re driv-
ing for hours and you need something
healthy to keep your blood sugar at the
right level.
In lieu of celery we opted for car-
rots—also a handy veg—but all we could
find was the mass-farmed imported
stuff which is generally tasteless and
occasionally stale. Not a single shop we
came across had Icelandic carrots. Had
Iceland’s entire contingent been shipped
to Reykjavík because there are no veg-
ans out in the country? It wasn’t until
close to the end of the trip that we got to
Flúðir that we actually managed to buy
some fabulous lava-soil-soaked purple
carrots from a little lean-to at the side
of the road. The shack was un-manned
and (unbelievably in this day-and-age)
works on an honour-system, which basi-
cally means: We trust you. Please insert
your coins into the slot!
We tried apples. These were gener-
ally available anywhere, sometimes red,
sometimes green, but never any cultivar
designation (see part three in this se-
ries). You couldn’t tell if you were eating
Granny Smiths or Golden Delicious. But
that’s not all. Half of them looked good
on the outside, but on the inside they
were furry and dry and flavourless.
According to The Guardian, typical
EU or US apple-storage-time varies from
6-12 months. In the US (and Argentina,
where many of Iceland’s red ones come
from), apples are waxed and then hot-air
dried to give them a beautiful sheen and
hard exterior, but they may not reach
your stomach until one year after they’ve
been picked. Factor in an extra month or
so to get them to Iceland, plus an added
month in storage here, and there you
have it: You may actually be munching 14
month-old fruit. Carrots are often cooled
in chlorinated water and are stored at 0°
C for an average of 6 months.
The mind reels, the stomach churns.
FISHY HAND-HELD FODDER
In the end, we gave up on our fruit and
vegetable snacks, and opted for the only
thing we knew was really ‘Made in Ice-
land’: Harðfiskur, wind-dried fish—rather
like a fish jerky. My personal preference
is for haddock, but cod or wolf-fish are
also available pretty much anywhere.
Although you’ll get a lap full of dried
fish-flakes, these chewy-fluffy-crumbly
strips are as easy to handle while driv-
ing as a carrot. Of course, harðfiskur is
ten times the price of carrots, and you
miss out on that dosage of Vitamin C,
but you’ll get your essential omega oils
instead. Great for keeping eyes sharp on
the road.
Now, I don’t want to be entirely nega-
tive about our low-budget-on-the-road
dining experiences. There were cer-
tainly some highlights. At Lake Mývatn
we came upon a little farm with all-told
ten cattle grazing on a paddock, and
here, hidden behind an old shed, a little
old lady was selling smoked wild trout
pulled straight from the lake. Of all the
things I’ve eaten in Iceland, this rates top
ten.
A close competitor to this delicacy,
smoked arctic char from Lake Laugar-
vatn, also titillates the taste buds. Served
on little slices of Icelandic rúgbrauð (rye
bread slow-baked in geothermal vents),
accompanied with a crisp pinot gris from
Chile, little compares to this succulence.
You can buy the filets either hot or cold
smoked, both versions are delicious;
and believe it or not, it will not break the
bank.
And, at a little bistro in Stykkishólmur
on the magical Snæfellsnes Peninsula,
we splurged on a bowl of blue Icelandic
mussels done Mariniere-style, steamed
with garlic, onion and white wine, with a
few sprigs of seaweed thrown in for au-
thenticity: truly word-class, but at 2.000
ISK a head (without wine) it burst our
daily budget. Ah well, you only live once.
At the time of writing I was hunt-
ing down the journalist-shy purchas-
ing managers of Bónus and Krónan,
but they still seem to be evading my
imported-food-questions. The Icelandic
Horticultural Society too, remains rather
elusive regarding progress in Icelandic
vegetable cultivation; recently, however,
there has been much talk of a gigantic
geothermally-fed tomato project about
to happen on the Reykjanes peninsula.
I hope they’ll consider celery too (fat
chance).
Oh, and another thing I discovered
on my travels here: Icelandic seagulls
adore salami. One night, some silly for-
eigner left an unattended pizza outside
his tent for a minute or two. By the time
he got back, the gulls has plucked off all
his Hungarian spiced-meat slivers.
It seems we’re not the only ones who
love our sausage.
Next time: I explore the detailed process of
dung-smoking and seriously consider becom-
ing a vegan.
Words
Marc Vincenz
Illustration
Megan Herbert
Brain Food For Thought Off the Beaten Track
How Icelanders eat, part four
“Honestly, the amount of hotdogs, f ilter coffee and ice creams
that they dole out at N1s throughout the country...I’ve never
seen anything like it”