Eating in Iceland

When I told people I was going to Iceland the second most common response (after Iceland? Really?) was “Did you see that Anthony Bourdain Iceland episode?” Most people seemed certain I would starve during my visit and also reminded me that Anthony Bourdain called hakarl disgusting or something along those lines.  fortunately, fermented Greenland Shark was not in season. Sadly, I missed Puffin season by a few days but starving was not a possibility.  The food was actually good.

Breakfast consisted of bread, cheese, meats, tomatoes, cucumbers, skyr, muesli and lots of rich dark coffee.  Icelanders understand that if you can see through it, it ain’t coffee.  Such a yummy breakfast kept me happy.  Sometimes we stopped for lunch, sometimes we just grabbed a flaky crescent and a cup of coffee.  More happiness.

But nothing compares to the sheer joy of my dinner at Fjorubordid in Stokkseyri.  My husband and I both ordered the three course meal. Before the end of


the first course, it made my list of the top five meals I’ve ever eaten. The creamy lobster soup was nirvana. It was a beautiful shade of pink with giant chunks of lobster jutting above the brim of the bowl.  Icelanders reportedly drive hours just for the soup and I can understand why.  The quality ingredients and simple preparation let the key flavors– cream, butter, lobster, garlic and tomato–stand out.  Excuse me a moment.  I must wipe some drool from my mouth.

Okay. I’m back and on to the second course – a big pot of steamed Icelandic lobster (actually langoustinos), mini potatoes and lots and lots of garlic butter.  I’m glad they came shell on because the few seconds it took to separate the meat from the shell slowed me down enough to appreciate the firm texture of the lobster and it gave me a opportunty to get garlic butter all over my fingers.  There are simply not enough times we get the tactile experience of eating a messy meal with our fingers after we are above the age of three.  The sides, an assortment of salads and pickled things, accompanied the lobster nicely.

I finished with a big slab of chocolate cake and a cup of black coffee. It was almost too much. Almost, but not quite and that is why my dinner at Fjorubordid makes my top five meals list.  I added a handy link so you can drool a bit too.  My photos don’t do the food justice.

So all in all, we ate pretty good in Iceland.  I’d go back.

my next cat

I’ve come to a conclusion.  I need to get another cat. Not that there’s anything wrong with my Juno and Rojo, or even the friendly black cat that enjoys sunning himself in the backyard, but they’re not Snorrabraut.  Yes, I know, what your thinking what sort of a name is Snorrabraut and what sort of a person would burden a cat with that name?  All I can say is you didn’t just return from a great trip to Iceland.

To celebrate my birthday, Hubby and I flew to Iceland and rented a car.  Our ever helpful GPS, who tsk-tsked us in a lovely British accent whenever we strayed from our destination, introduced us to our next cat by imploring us to “Turn left on Snorrabraut.”  This street in Reykjavik, pronounced like “Snore-a-broad” became our new favorite.  We purposely went off course so listen to her demand that now we turn right on Snorrabraut.

Yes, we are strange, but say it a few time.  Go ahead.  I’ll wait.  See. Now doesn’t that sound like a great name for a cat and a cheeky way to remember a terrific trip?

At some point, I’ll shift through the hours of video and nearly 1,000 photos to offer up more adventures from our trip.  I hope you’ll come back for them. With any luck, you’ll be inspired to dust off your passport too.