![]() “She came in, tasted it, and said it needed a little bit more sherry,” Auðunsson said of the dish, a crisp, bright soup with hearty chunks of tender white fish, raisins and apples - and ample sherry. “Our goal is to make Icelanders proud of their cuisine,” Auðunsson said in late February while dishing out bowls of a halibut soup whose recipe, he claimed, “hasn’t been on a menu for at least 20 years.” The source of the recipe? Auðunsson’s grandmother. It’s fitting, since the restaurant’s chef Gísli Matthías Auðunsson - who has stints at New York City’s Michelin star-winning Eleven Madison Park and Acme under his belt - and his team dug through manuscripts and researched traditional recipes and methods of preparation while designing their menu, which he hopes will “elevate traditional Icelandic cuisine.” ![]() Makur og drykkur is a year-old restaurant that shares a building with Reykjavik’s Saga Museum, which traces Iceland’s history through the 9th, 10th and 11th centuries. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. ![]() Now, they’re coming back - or simply staying put - and setting down roots. Graduates of Reykjavik’s culinary academy, the Kópavogur Institute of Education, have been more likely to travel abroad after graduation, seeking employment in Europe or Asia. But at a scant 350,000 people, the capital can be forgiven for arriving late to the Nordic cuisine party. In Reykjavik, Iceland’s culinary revolution is already well underway. So much so that despite the adventurous nature of a weeklong trip to Iceland - during which I dogsledded, saw the Northern Lights, rode Icelandic horses and skied for the first time in my life - I was left struck mostly by the quality of the food, and how far it surpassed my own misguided expectations. Thanks to the recent spike in popularity of Nordic cuisine, Icelandic food could be poised for something of a rebirth, positioning Iceland as a legitimate culinary destination. But Iceland’s food has come a long way since the Vikings. Hákarl works as a metaphor for the global reputation of Icelandic cuisine as a whole: not everyone knows about it, but those who do know that it’s terrible.
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