Iceland review - 2015, Page 70

68 ICELAND REVIEW
For the market, Roberto produces a
variety of different types of cured meats
made from horse, bull and pork, including
al tartufo, a salami made with truffle oil;
piccante spicy salami; bresaola made from
horse meat; as well as pancetta.
While Roberto isn’t the only one making
salami products in Iceland, and Iceland has
its own traditional style of sausage, he says
the old Italian method he uses means the
recipe, spices and process are all different.
“I use a similar recipe to what my grandpar-
ents used,” he says, explaining that all the
meat he uses is from South Iceland.
SPotting a gaP
Thirty-four-year-old Roberto moved to
Þykkvibær two years ago to renovate the
slaughterhouse and start his own dried and
cured meat production company under
his family name, Tariello. Originally from
limatola, a small town in southern Italy,
Roberto moved to Iceland in 2007 after
working as a chef in Italy, Switzerland and
the Caribbean. He was employed as a chef
in Reykjavík too before the idea of produc-
ing salami in Iceland came to him. “I found
that the quality of the meat here was really
good but that some of my favorite products
were missing on the market,” Roberto says
of his business idea, adding that he saw
potential in the use of already-available
horse meat.
Interestingly, the use of horse meat has
a long history in Þykkvibær, as Roberto
tells me. “It was the first village in Iceland
to start eating horse meat, once the [unof-
ficial] ban [from the church] was lifted.”
When pagan Iceland adopted Christianity
in 1000, eating horse meat (and the meat
of any other cloven-hoofed animal, as stat-
ed in the Bible) became taboo. around
the year 1800, eating horse became more
widely acceptable and its popularity has
continued to grow in recent years. The
inhabitants of Þykkvibær, however, never
completely gave up the consumption of
horse meat and people from other areas of
the country even traveled to the village to
have their horses slaughtered, as editor and
journalist at RÚV, Gísli Einarsson, who has
researched the subject, explains.
When it comes to salami, however, unlike
in Italy, where it has a long history in the
country’s food culture and is considered
an everyday food item, it’s still considered
a bit of a novelty in Iceland, Roberto says.
“Here they are eaten less often. Some of
the meats, for example, are only eaten at
Christmastime in Iceland … the idea is
still new.” The response to his products has
been good and they are now available in a
number of stores in Reykjavík, as well as in
Selfoss, South Iceland. “I started in 2012
with just a few kilos of meat at a time to
see how people liked them. Then I started
selling them in a couple of stores and have
since increased production.” When we visit
him, he’s in the process of expanding his
facility.
The support of the local community was
paramount in getting his business up and
running, Roberto says. “people in the town
have been very welcoming and helpful. It
would have been very difficult without all
their support.”
Roberto also coruns adventure travel
company Icevisit, aimed at the Italian mar-
ket, often pairing up with Italian photog-
raphers on their photography tours of the
country. Roberto often accompanies the
guests as a guide and chef, with whom his
meats have been proving a hit too. “I’ve had
requests from guests to buy some salami to
bring back to Italy. It’s a huge compliment,”
Roberto says.

PreServing Heritage HenS
Down the road we meet Júlíus Már
Baldursson, who moved to town a year-
and-a-half ago. Taking advantage of anoth-
er gap in the market, Júlíus set up a chicken
farm, specializing in Icelandic settlement
hens. They’re known as such because the
breed, characterized by its multicolored
feathers, has remained all but unchanged
since it was brought to Iceland during
the settlement in the ninth century. Júlíus
claims to be the only farmer to produce
organic free-range eggs in Iceland and his
subscription system—where people ‘adopt’
a hen of their choice and have her eggs
delivered to them each month—has been
proving popular.
“I got my first hen from my friend Stefán
when I was 17 years old. I promised to
continue trying to preserve the Icelandic
settlement hen stock and to never let them
crossbreed. So far, I’d say that’s been pretty
successful.” Júlíus is among the most active
breeders of heritage hens in Iceland.
riSing froM tHe aSHeS
However, in 2010, disaster struck. Júlíus
lost all of his 200 plus hens, 25 roosters and
900 eggs, which were about to hatch, in a
fire at his farm Tjörn on Vatnsnes penin-
sula, Northwest Iceland, where he had been
farming chickens since 1978. Fortunately
for Júlíus, he was able to save around
100 eggs and ten roosters from another
building. “a lot of subscribers actually lost
their foster hens in the fire, which was
trAVeL
“I found that the quality of the meat here
was really good but that some of my
favorite products were missing
on the market.”
Roberto Tariello.
roberto tariello.