(readers note: The pictures follow the relevant paragraphs. Be sure to read all the way to the end. Click on any picture to see all the pictures in full size)
Breakfast at the hotel and on the road by 9. We have a 5 hour long drive back to Reykjavik
in the east. Leaving Siglufjordur, the
road first takes us north to the tip of the Troll Peninsula. We stop at the northern most point, a small,
unmarked pullover point on the side of the road next to the opening of the
tunnel. We get out and admire the
views. Sea, sky and the horizon showing
the curve of the earth. Beyond that,
only the Arctic. Breath. Smile.
Kiss. See. Oh, and there’s the sun. Thank god we’re not doing this drive in more
rain. Or more snow.
There are a few stops we could make on the way, but only stop for necessary breaks as we prefer to have the afternoon in Reykjavik. Instead of counting minutes or hours, we count in “units”, 15 minute blocks. “Only 6 more units baby” when the GPS showed 1:30 remaining. Just because the drive is long doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy the trip. We spend our units noticing the changes in the landscapes as we head south and west. Some look familiar and some new variations on a theme. We talk about the things we’ve done, the places we’ve seen, the people we’ve met and the grace and civility demonstrated to us even among the harshest environments. Down to 3 units when we hit the suburbs. We check into the Black Pearl, a nice hotel on the west side of downtown right across from the marina, about 10 blocks from our last hotel in town.
We have much anticipated dinner reservations at 7, but we’re going to need a little sumptin sumptin to hold us over. Perfect opportunity for an Icelandic hot dog. The country’s answer to Philly’s famous cheesesteaks or Milwaukee’s legendary brats, Icelandic hot dogs are made mostly from the free-range, grass-fed, organic, happy lambs that we’ve seen in and on every open field, rock pile and roadway in the country. Locals and tourists eat a LOT of these, ordering two and three at a time, so it’s a good thing that there are twice as many sheep here than people. I’ve had a few at gas stations around the ring road, and they were good, but as dedicated foodies, we’re in search of the best. Fortunately Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur is just around the corner. Literally, the name translates to “best hot dog in town”, expectations are high, even more so since British newspaper The Guardian named this the best hot dog stand in all of Europe. Like knowing how to order a cheesesteak (“Wiz Wit”, of course), you can’t be an amateur when it’s your turn at the window. We get two “ein með öllu” (pronounced “eyen-meth-alt”, translation “with the works”), raw white onions, crispy fried onions, ketchup, sweet brown mustard called pylsusinnep, and remoulade, a sauce made with mayo, capers, mustard, and herbs (most of the toppings are served under the dog to make eating them easier). The combination of the excellent raw ingredients and interesting toppings makes this one damn fine dog.
We spend the next hour or so wandering in and out of the
shops. Mandy’s favorites are the ceramic
galleries and there are plenty of choices with colorful vases, bowls and other dimensional
works. The art galleries seem to have a
connecting thread, the paintings, photographs and sculptures all influenced by
the combined beauty and brutality of Iceland’s nature. Legs effectively stretched after our long car
ride, we nap in eager anticipation for…
Dinner at ÒX. ÒX
is a speakeasy-type restaurant concept by Iceland’s star chef Thráinn Freyr Vigfússon. At just 11 seats gathered around the chef’s
table, it is the most exclusive restaurant in the country, and we made our
reservation almost a year ago (some people make the reservation first then plan
the rest of their Iceland trip around it.) The concept is this: create an intimate space
based on the chef’s grandmother’s remote cabin, make the seating feel like you’re
gathering with old friends, have the chef interact with the guests like he was
cooking for them in his own home, and use only local provisions. It’s an experience from before you get
there. Instead of the address of the restaurant,
we were just given a meeting point, the bar at Sumac, a fine restaurant in its
own right. We get seated at the bar,
order a drink and quickly realize that the others seated here will be our
fellow diners tonight. One couple at a
time we’re escorted to our seats in the little space that is ÒX and wine is poured, the first of many
carefully curated glasses we will have tonight.
We’re in for a 16 course tasting meal tonight based on whatever is available today, whether it be fresh-off-the-boat fish, local meats, or the preserved seasonal foods they put up themselves up to two years ago. Each dish promises to be an updated take on an Icelandic classic, and no two nights are ever the same. This is definitely an “event-dining” experience. The chef gets the conversation going and encourages everyone to talk to him and to each other, and soon it sounds like Christmas with my family, several conversations happily going on at once. All the while we watch as Chef prepares, then serves. The first course, called simply crab + tomatoes (although there’s WAY more going on), is fresh, original and delicious and firmly sets the food-as-art vibe. Although this course could easily be eaten in two bites, we all turn it into 6 or 8 as we make different combinations of the ingredients. I could discuss every course in crazy detail, but this just ain’t that kind of blog, so I’ll just tell you about two other standouts. The entrée is ribeye cap, seared then smoked in wooden boxes filled with fresh herbs. The smell when the box came into the room was incredible. When the lid was slid open the smoke gave way to three beautifully done steaks that the chef sliced down, plated and served with a few small sides. The sides themselves were an event: a deconstructed-reconstructed beet flourish, a dollop of smoked fermented garlic (the tiniest bit was a complete taste explosion), and a mashed rutabaga that were sprinkled with smoked, dried reindeer hearts that the chef grated right in front of us. It’s safe to say that all 11 people at this table have had plenty of fine dining experience. It is also safe to say that all 11 people at this table have done lots of adventurous dining. It is also safe to say that the mention of smoked, dried reindeer hearts gave pause to all 11 of us. Until we tasted it.
Dessert is four separate courses, served with wine and rich pour-over coffee. Now that we’re all old friends, we say goodbye as such, taking an additional 30 minutes to clear the room through all the goodbyes, hugs and kisses. Walking back out onto Laugavegur, we’re surprised to see how much the scene on the street has changed. The quiet restaurants and bars that lined the streets have been turned into THUMPA-THUMPA clubs, and everyone’s hiking clothes have been replaced by tight minidresses and sharp, slim cut sports coats. The energy is palpable and there are lines out of every door, balconies overflowing with revelers. It’s Saturday night, it’s summer, it’s solstice, the sun is shining brightly at 11pm and Covid is effectively over here, so this is going to be one of the biggest party nights in years. We’re past da-club scene, but the vibe still makes us happy as we head back to our hotel.
We get back to our hotel and wash up, but it’s just too nice out. We put on jeans and sneakers and head back outside to explore the marina and bask in the midnight sun.
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