The second half of my family's Icelandic adventure was spent in Stokkseyri, south of Reykjavik, which boasts a fine seafood restaurant. Its lobster soup is especially well-known, and my family checked their website to see if they did take out. We found a very interesting English translation of the menu (my comments in italics):
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Fjorubordid
and the sea said ok
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Where to start... the sea only said "ok"? Not "yes" or something more enthusiastic? "Ok" sounds like the sea really doesn't want to do anything but doesn't see a way out of it.
I have never seen lobsters do a belly dance. I don't think I want to.
What sort of stirring adventures are we talking about here? Is this a disclaimer absolving the restaurant of responsibility should their soup give you food poisoning? Cause that's what it sounds like.
Handsome naked cooks? Oh my. I'm afraid I didn't see any of those in Stokkseyri. It doesn't seem like a very practical way to catch lobster, and believe, the North Atlantic is cold. Really cold. Skinny dipping in it does not sound healthy.
I think the party-happy ghosts refers to the neighboring "Ghosts, Elves, and Trolls" Museum. I'm not sure why they're party happy. YOLO (you only live once)? That doesn't make any sense.
Again with the tickling stomachs. If my stomach ever tickles, I make a mad dash for the bathroom. Stomachs should never tickle.
Literary criticisms aside, it was actually very good lobster soup. Very different from the New England soup I know. I would recommend it!
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Fjorubordid
and the sea said ok
Have you strolled along the black sand on
Stokkseyri´s beach? Have you been spellbound by the white foaming waves
out by the horizon and let the silvery waves lapping at the shoreline
chase and tease you? Under a blue-pink sky mirrored in the water, this
surface tempts and draws, yet is the harrowing limit of our human world.
It´s where golden lobsters hook their claws together and dance a belly
dance while mermaids serve tables amongst shrimp wrapped in seaweed,
clapping shellfish and inquisitive haddock. This is a magic moment
carrying you away to an intoxicated state of well-being and lust. Your
greatest desire is to lick on lobster in garlic butter, gulp down the
soup that has been lovingly pampered – little changed through the years.
The soup is magical. It is suitable for numerous occasions and happy moments on ordinary days, but the seashore takes no responsibility for consequences or stirring adventures that could result from ingesting it. It has a will of its own and, as such, it is risky for those who don´t want to venture beyond the average. This is the most famous lobster soup in the Republic of Iceland, prepared by handsome cooks who step naked out of the ocean at Stokkseyri with their catch: the Plumpest lobsters who desire only one thing – to get onto dry land. Adventurous creatures from the ocean world want to join us in just the same way as we want to join them in the depths.
People have struggled against storm after storm to get here and enjoy this soup. The desire for it can be so strong that rational thinking simply blows away with the wind. Below the black rock face at the Þrengsli mountain pass, between mountain vistas, under the stars, people rush toward the sea to sit down with our guests and party-happy ghosts, surrounded by some tickling pleasure coming from magical bowls at the Seashore, where a thousand candles cast their glow on weathered faces and loving wine skins. Matarást, the Icelandic expression for “love of food” takes on a new meaning.
The Seashore Restaurant in the village of Stokkseyri is an enchanted place of delight. People have to tear themselves away from it – but that´s alright. There´s only positive magic inside, tickling both stomach and soul. And now the magic has been sealed into jars for those who struggle with an irresistible craving for this great seafood delicacy from Icelandic waters, even when they´re unfortunate enough to be not close to the restaurant. Enjoy! Remember to live life to the fullest, and enjoy every pleasure and suspense that a good day brings.
The soup is magical. It is suitable for numerous occasions and happy moments on ordinary days, but the seashore takes no responsibility for consequences or stirring adventures that could result from ingesting it. It has a will of its own and, as such, it is risky for those who don´t want to venture beyond the average. This is the most famous lobster soup in the Republic of Iceland, prepared by handsome cooks who step naked out of the ocean at Stokkseyri with their catch: the Plumpest lobsters who desire only one thing – to get onto dry land. Adventurous creatures from the ocean world want to join us in just the same way as we want to join them in the depths.
People have struggled against storm after storm to get here and enjoy this soup. The desire for it can be so strong that rational thinking simply blows away with the wind. Below the black rock face at the Þrengsli mountain pass, between mountain vistas, under the stars, people rush toward the sea to sit down with our guests and party-happy ghosts, surrounded by some tickling pleasure coming from magical bowls at the Seashore, where a thousand candles cast their glow on weathered faces and loving wine skins. Matarást, the Icelandic expression for “love of food” takes on a new meaning.
The Seashore Restaurant in the village of Stokkseyri is an enchanted place of delight. People have to tear themselves away from it – but that´s alright. There´s only positive magic inside, tickling both stomach and soul. And now the magic has been sealed into jars for those who struggle with an irresistible craving for this great seafood delicacy from Icelandic waters, even when they´re unfortunate enough to be not close to the restaurant. Enjoy! Remember to live life to the fullest, and enjoy every pleasure and suspense that a good day brings.
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Where to start... the sea only said "ok"? Not "yes" or something more enthusiastic? "Ok" sounds like the sea really doesn't want to do anything but doesn't see a way out of it.
I have never seen lobsters do a belly dance. I don't think I want to.
What sort of stirring adventures are we talking about here? Is this a disclaimer absolving the restaurant of responsibility should their soup give you food poisoning? Cause that's what it sounds like.
Handsome naked cooks? Oh my. I'm afraid I didn't see any of those in Stokkseyri. It doesn't seem like a very practical way to catch lobster, and believe, the North Atlantic is cold. Really cold. Skinny dipping in it does not sound healthy.
I think the party-happy ghosts refers to the neighboring "Ghosts, Elves, and Trolls" Museum. I'm not sure why they're party happy. YOLO (you only live once)? That doesn't make any sense.
Again with the tickling stomachs. If my stomach ever tickles, I make a mad dash for the bathroom. Stomachs should never tickle.
Literary criticisms aside, it was actually very good lobster soup. Very different from the New England soup I know. I would recommend it!
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