Reykjavík Grapevine - jan. 2019, Blaðsíða 46

Reykjavík Grapevine - jan. 2019, Blaðsíða 46
The Ölfusá river gushes down through southern Iceland, from the place where the Hvítá and Sog rivers meet. The rapidly flowing torrent is sped along by springwater tributaries, creating a roaring, tumultuous flow that winds its way circuitously down to the cold south coast, 25 kilometres away. In days gone by, this wild river pre- vented fording or crossing by horse- back or on foot, and ferries would transport people across to the eastern shore. The first bridge, built in 1891, was ultimately no match for the force of the river, and collapsed in 1944—the struts still protrude from the choppy water. The second was finished two years later, and has fared better. An interruption It’s across this sturdy suspension bridge that we coast into Selfoss on a wintry December day. The town sits halfway down the Ölfusá, cleaved in two by the busy southbound Ring Road that passes through on its way to the black coastline. Seen from the car, Self- oss seems to consist mostly of this sin- gle main strip lined with chain stores, banks, a mini mall, some municipal buildings and a KFC. On a road trip to Skógafoss, Dyrhólaey, Jökulsárlón and beyond, Selfoss would flash by without note—a brief interruption in the vast swathes of the southern landscape. Of course, wherever there are peo- ple to be found, there are stories, too. The settlement of Selfoss dates back to the year 1000, when it was founded by Þórir Ásason. By 1900, one hun- dred people lived there, growing dra- matically—by Icelandic standards— to 6,500 by 2011, making it the largest town in rural Southern Iceland by a considerable margin. Amongst other curiosities, there’s a museum dedi- cated to Bobby Fischer, whose im- probable life path brought him here as his final destination. Frosted landscape Today, it’s hard to imagine the rural town of 1900. We cruise around the empty residential streets, eyeing the nondescript houses, then circle back to the large roundabout that seems to be the somewhat unsettled heart of this oddly transient place. The church was built in 1950, with a proudly mod- ern design. Not much about Selfoss suggests its long history. Hotel Selfoss is a monolithic 139- room block that looks back towards the river the we crossed so easily mo- ments ago. From our bedrooms, we get a pleasantly unencumbered view to the Ölfusá. Large shards of ice float on its surface, coasting along and getting caught in swirling eddies at the crook of a bend in the river. In the background, the mountains are dust- ed with snow, giving the landscape a frosted, wintry feel. It’s a taste, per- haps, of Selfoss before the bridge. Room at the inn The main reason for our trip, how- ever, is to taste something else. Tryg- gvaskáli is a lauded restaurant locat- ed in an 1890 house that was the first hotel in Selfoss. Now a listed build- ing, the interior layout has stayed the same throughout the decades and various uses. It sits just over the roundabout from the hotel on the banks of the river, and something about its placement feels perfect for an inn. The interior has a convivial at- mosphere, with eggshell blue walls, pleasingly creaky floorboards, and lots of little touches that speak to the building’s history. The menu, how- ever, is thoroughly modern. Chef and co-owner Fannar Geir Ólafsson’s style is playfully maximalist, in stark contrast to the predictably tradition- al dishes served at most rural Icelan- dic restaurants. Up to eleven Many of the dishes on the game menu come with unexpected flourishes and multiple garnishes—the tender slow cooked pork loin embellished with chilli crumble and serrano ham, or the tuna with leek and shallot, but also pear and a cured egg yolk. The beef Travel Distance from Reykjavík: 57km Car provided by: gocarrental.is Accommodation provided by: hotelselfoss.is Meal provided by: tryggvaskali.is How to get there: Route One South 46The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 01— 2019 Over The River Wintry landscapes and experimental cuisine in Selfoss Words: John Rogers Photos : Timothée Lambrecq A room with a viewLots of ingredients packed into each dish Selfoss church has a modern 1950s design
Blaðsíða 1
Blaðsíða 2
Blaðsíða 3
Blaðsíða 4
Blaðsíða 5
Blaðsíða 6
Blaðsíða 7
Blaðsíða 8
Blaðsíða 9
Blaðsíða 10
Blaðsíða 11
Blaðsíða 12
Blaðsíða 13
Blaðsíða 14
Blaðsíða 15
Blaðsíða 16
Blaðsíða 17
Blaðsíða 18
Blaðsíða 19
Blaðsíða 20
Blaðsíða 21
Blaðsíða 22
Blaðsíða 23
Blaðsíða 24
Blaðsíða 25
Blaðsíða 26
Blaðsíða 27
Blaðsíða 28
Blaðsíða 29
Blaðsíða 30
Blaðsíða 31
Blaðsíða 32
Blaðsíða 33
Blaðsíða 34
Blaðsíða 35
Blaðsíða 36
Blaðsíða 37
Blaðsíða 38
Blaðsíða 39
Blaðsíða 40
Blaðsíða 41
Blaðsíða 42
Blaðsíða 43
Blaðsíða 44
Blaðsíða 45
Blaðsíða 46
Blaðsíða 47
Blaðsíða 48
Blaðsíða 49
Blaðsíða 50
Blaðsíða 51
Blaðsíða 52
Blaðsíða 53
Blaðsíða 54
Blaðsíða 55
Blaðsíða 56

x

Reykjavík Grapevine

Beinir tenglar

Ef þú vilt tengja á þennan titil, vinsamlegast notaðu þessa tengla:

Tengja á þennan titil: Reykjavík Grapevine
https://timarit.is/publication/943

Tengja á þetta tölublað:

Tengja á þessa síðu:

Tengja á þessa grein:

Vinsamlegast ekki tengja beint á myndir eða PDF skjöl á Tímarit.is þar sem slíkar slóðir geta breyst án fyrirvara. Notið slóðirnar hér fyrir ofan til að tengja á vefinn.