Reykjavík Grapevine - 10.10.2014, Qupperneq 30

Once I turn off Route 1 and meander far-
ther north, scarcely any cars pass. One of
the few drivers that ends up in front of me
is content to cruise squarely in the mid-
dle of the road, drifting over to the right
lane only when absolutely necessary,
before brusquely returning to the centre.
Whether this driving style is a result of
careless Snapchatting, mild thrill seeking,
or something else entirely, I do not know.
However, besides the occasional trio of
sheep (always a trio) scurrying out of the
way, the road is empty and full of promise.
Such highway tranquillity offers plenty
chances to let one’s eyes drift and appre-
ciate the occasional river or ravine wind-
ing alongside the road, or the seemingly
ubiquitous grassy half-pipe-resembling
hills. The intimacy of the surroundings is
enhanced by the billows of clouds that
settle low in the valleys, nestling around
the hills. I find myself driving through a
cloud, vapour speckling my windshield as
the Subaru lurches through the haze.
Beer for beer lovers
The Gæðingur brewery is located
just outside the 2,700-person town of
Sauðárkrókur, on a picturesque farm
called Útvík. Though the air is somewhat
farm-flavoured, it is unmistakably crisp
and salubrious. The brewery is housed
in a converted cattle house that provides
space for brewing, bottling, canning, la-
belling and storage. Once we meet and
get talking, Gæðingur owner Árni—who
grew up and still lives on the farm—tells
me he got the idea of starting a micro-
brewery in 2009, after he built a new
cattle house and was looking for some-
thing to do with the abandoned building.
“I thought of opening a guesthouse, but
at the same time, me and my friend heard
about a brewing course in Denmark.”
After taking the course, Árni toyed
around with recipes and brewery gear
in his garage, eventually working his way
up to his current set of state-of-the-art
equipment and tried–and-true recipes.
According to him, brewing a great beer
requires three elements, with one stand-
ing out above the rest. “It comes down to
passion, experience, and equipment. You
can brew quite good beer with passion,
but with no experience and no equipment.
But if you don’t have the passion, you just
make shitty beer, no matter how good
your equipment is.”
On the day I visited, Árni had brewed
1,000 litres of Gæðingur’s popular IPA.
What started out of his garage in 2009
has developed into Iceland’s third-largest
microbrewery, spawning two of Iceland’s
finest bars along the way. It’s no coinci-
dence that Microbar, which Árni estab-
lished in Reykjavík in 2012 (a second lo-
cation opened in Sauðárkrókur earlier this
year), offers five Gæðingur brews on tap
and also won Grapevine’s 2014 commen-
dations for Best Beer Selection. Gæðingur
knows how to brew beer for beer lovers,
boasting an IPA, pale ale, stout, wheat
beer, lager, and the occasional seasonal
speciality. Last year, Árni sold 60,000 litres
combined, and that number is growing
quickly by the year.
What makes a microbrewery?
For a term that has become entrenched
in our vocabulary, “microbrewery” is an
awfully loose classification. Since mi-
crobreweries have gained steam on the
global beer market, larger companies
have been trying to market their own “mi-
cro” beers. “People who are drinking beer
associate ‘micro’ with ‘quality,’ so most
companies want to have people believe
that what they are drinking comes from
a microbrewery,” Árni says. However,
traditionally, microbreweries are indepen-
dently owned and produce smaller batch-
es than commercial breweries. Thus,
contrary to common belief, high-quality
Icelandic breweries such as Borg and
Einstök are not considered microbrewer-
ies because they are subsidiaries of larger
beer companies.
However, “as far as the definition goes,
I don’t like definitions,” Árni says with a
smile. “When you’re a producer, you know
when you’re not a microbrewery,” he tells
me. “As soon as you’re sitting around in
an office and you start adding something
to the beer or changing the temperature
with your computer mouse, then you are
not a microbrewery.”
He continues: “You
can call it a craft beer
when you dig the grist
up with your hands,
you get sweaty and
smell, and you’re tired
after a day’s work.”
The craft beer
market in Iceland is
growing, opening the
market for bars like
Microbar and Kaldi,
which introduce pa-
trons not only to lo-
cally brewed beers, but
fine craft beers from
around the world. By
Árni’s estimate, over
85% of the beer con-
sumed worldwide is
from commercial com-
panies, yet the major-
ity of hops are used
by microbreweries.
This discrepancy high-
lights the differences
in flavour and alcohol
content between craft
beers and commercial
ones such as Bud-
weiser. As the craft beer market grows,
“people are drinking more with their head
than their stomach,” Árni explains. “To
begin with at least. But at the end of the
night it might be the same either way,” he
concedes, laughing.
Throughout the craft beer business,
particularly in a country as small as Ice-
land, the key to success is carving out a
niche. For example, Árni had the idea for
Gæðingur to become the first Nordic mi-
crobrewery to offer their IPA in a can. “If
you come to the can
section in Vínbúðin,
you can choose be-
tween 30 different
types of lagers, and
what’s the difference
between one and an-
other?” Additionally,
Gæðingur utilises li-
quorice, coriander and
other spices in some of
their recipes—and Árni
has considered tak-
ing this liberal slant a
step further. “I’ve been
thinking about going
up to the mountain
here, picking a handful
of something, throwing
it into the copper, and
seeing what happens.”
“Gæðingur” trans-
lates as “an exception-
ally good horse.” Árni
explains, “What dis-
tinguishes guys from
the area that I live in,
Skagafjörður, is a pas-
sion for horse-riding,
singing, and chasing
women.” Though Árni
admits that the three together can be an
interesting combination, he finally settled
on Gæðingur, “instead of some singer or
girl-chaser.”
While the name has Skagafjörður
roots, it’s not the only reason it is hard to
picture the brewery anywhere else. As a
humble, high-quality brewery situated on
a family farm flanked by scenic mountains
and headed by a passionate entrepreneur,
Gæðingur is distinctly Icelandic.
30 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 16 — 2014DRINKS
F O R O N L I N E B O O K I N G S - W W W . S B A . I S
LAKE MÝVATN WINTER TOUR
DISCOVER THE NORTH
Words & Photos Tyler Clevenger
While the drive through the north of Iceland may not offer
as diverse an array of neck-craning scenery as the south,
its serenity is unparalleled. This much was obvious on the
Saturday evening that I set off for Skagafjörður, in search of
the Gæðingur microbrewery, where some of Iceland’s finest
craft beers are made.
A Bucolic
Brew
Visiting Iceland’s third-largest
microbrewery
Gæðingur Pale Ale: Has the
low ABV content of a British Pale
Ale, but the aroma and bitterness
of its American counterpart. Ac-
cording to Árni, it’s his “every-day
beer.” Unfiltered, 4.5% ABV.
Gæðingur Stout: English-style
stout with flavours of roasted
malt, chocolate, coffee, and
liquorice. Not as bitter as many
other popular stouts. Unfiltered,
5.6% ABV.
Gæðingur IPA: Bitter and hoppy,
containing seven different kinds
of hops. This one is produced
in limited supply, but always
sells out. Árni prefers this as his
“weekend beer.” Unfiltered, 6.5%
ABV.
Gæðingur Hveiti: In the style of
a German “Weissbier,” the fruity
character of the yeast and the
limited use of hops make this
extremely easy to drink. Recalls
flavours of late summer and
autumn. Unfiltered, 5.2% ABV.
Gæðingur Micro: Lager-style
and quite fruity. For this one
Gæðingur utilises Nelson Sau-
vignon hops from New Zealand.
Filtered, 4.5% ABV.