Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.02.2019, Qupperneq 45

I’ll Eat a Donkey, But
Don’t Tell Me It’s A
Thoroughbred
Enough pickled fish to deck RuPaul’s All Stars
Words: Ragnar Egilsson Photo: Timothée Lambrecq
Burro
Veltusund 1.
Shortly after Burro flung open
their saloon doors for the first
time in the winter of 2016, I was
pleased with the lively atmosphere
and impressed by the lengths they
went to feature hard-to-source
ingredients like tonka beans, and
their threat of serving crickets and
scorpions. Sure, the menu was a
bit chaotic and the dishes were
a little rough around the edges,
but that’s to be expected while
people are getting off the ground.
So how is it working out three
years down the line?
No scorpions
The first thing to notice is that
the menu hasn’t undergone any
massive changes aside from los-
ing the pretentious “soil, ocean,
land” categories, and most of the
desserts. Burro is still far from
orthodox Mexican food, and there
are still no scorpions to be seen.
The decor still has that Cinco
de Mayo party feel, and the music
is a playlist of Latin brass band
covers of the Wu Tang Clan. This
is all par for the course as the sun-
shine mafia behind Burro have
since expanded their approach
to cocktails and dining at their
Florida-themed cocktail spot Mi-
ami Bar, and a tongue-in-cheek
Spanish holiday kitsch bar Bene-
dorm (sic), all of which are replete
with tropical colours and fruity
cocktails.
Mexican cantina
The food, however, is where my
smile starts to fade. On paper it
all seems sensible: small plates
and shared courses, served ei-
ther in tacos or with dips. Fish
is served ceviche-style—cured in
citrus juice—and the slabs of meat
come hot off the grill. So what’s
the problem?
If this was a solid Mexican
neighbourhood cantina in a Eu-
ropean city or a mid-range Baja
Med spot in LA, and a two small
courses with a cocktail would
set you back €30. Pop it in your
mouth, pay the bill, hit the town.
No fuss. Here we’d be looking at
€50 easy. I know we’re in Iceland
and prices are crazy here, and
that Burro is positioning itself as
a steakhouse, but for this price
bracket, the quality would need to
be twice the current standard.
Starchy tubers
The crispy platanos chips (990
ISK) were a nice change from the
omnipresent tortilla chips and the
guacamole was nicely chunky, but
lacking in both heat and acidity.
The tuna ceviche (1,990 ISK) hit
the heat level right but the fro-
zen tuna lacked texture and fla-
vour (I’d opt for fresh local cod
instead). The cassava chips (990
ISK) get a glowing recommenda-
tion, those starchy tubers familiar
to every Brazilian with a pulse—
big deep-fried chunks with a thin
truffle oil sauce (I hate truffle oil,
but even a broken condiment is
right once a decade.)
The most pleasant dish was the
slab of marbled ribeye with double
crisp potato wedges and sautéed
mushrooms (8,490 ISK). It was un-
der-seasoned, but that was easily
fixed, and then you were left with
enough meat to feed two hungry
food bros. The béarnaise sauce
was superfluous, but with 70% of
the guests being Icelandic, I don’t
see how they could have skipped it.
Icelanders are all over béarnaise
like tweakers in a Montana meth
lab.
All in all, I have some love for
Burro, and the vibe at 8pm on a
Friday night is fun. But I’d love to
see the kitchen upgraded from a
donkey to a Shetland pony.
This man is definitely not cooking scorpions
45The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 02— 2019
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