Traditional and Modern Icelandic Cooking

- a short history

Traditional Icelandic food – the food most people over forty grew up on – is to a very large extent influenced by Danish cooking. Iceland had been under Danish rule since the Middle Ages but it wasn’t until the nineteenth century that this began to be reflected in the cooking to any great extent. Most of the traditional Icelandic cake and cookie recipes came from Denmark, and so did a great many dishes that are now considered extremely Icelandic in character.

The Earliest Icelandic Cookbooks

Danish cookbooks were in used in Iceland during the nineteenth century and the earliest Icelandic cookbooks are largely translations and adaptations of Danish and Norwegian cookbooks and recipe collections. The first of these, Einfalt matreiðsluvasakver fyrir heldri manna húsfreyjur (A Simple Cooking Notebook for Gentlewomen), was published in 1800. The authorship of this small book is very unclear, with conflicting evidence put forward by a man who certainly did contribute to it, a president of the High Court of Iceland.

Whoever the author or authors were, they came from the uppermost layers of Icelandic society and the recipes in the book clearly reflect that. This is not what Icelandic housewives were cooking at the time. This is upper-class Scandinavian cooking, described to enable well-off Icelandic housewives to entertain their families and guests, although two versions of many dishes are presented – one for the upper class, one for the workers. However, this book never became widely known, or much used.

The next cookbook, which is a much more substantial work, was not published until 1858. Although large parts of it are more or less translated from Danish cookbooks of the time, there are many unquestionably Icelandic recipes in the book. The author, born in Copenhagen of an Icelandic father and Danish mother, spent her childhood in both countries, was probably educated in Denmark, but married an Icelander and lived first on a farm, and later in the town of Akureyri, so she had gained a wide experience which clearly comes through in her book.

The first truly Icelandic cookbook was Elín Briem´s Kvennafræðarinn (The Women’s Educator), first published in 1889 and sold 3000 copies in the first year. It became the first Icelandic-language cookbook to gain wide distribution. It was reprinted three times and became very influential.
At the beginning of the 20th century, most Icelandic rural homes were still largely self-sufficient regarding food, even though grains, sugar, coffee and a few luxuries had to be bought in the village store. This was also true of many town homes; even in Reykjavík many still kept cows, sheep or hens in a shed in their backyard.

The Great Cake Deluge

But this was also the time of great changes in Icelandic kitchens: The open fireplace was giving way to the cooking stove, which was considered such a wonderful device that it was named eldavél (cooking machine) in Icelandic. And the stoves had ovens for baking. This opened up a new world and Icelandic hospitality underwent a big change. Now visitors were no longer offered dishes heaped with smoked lamb, dried fish and whey-preserved food. Instead, they got served mountains of cakes and other baked goods; yet this was only the beginning of the Icelandic cake deluge.

Ovens had been virtually unknown in Iceland up to this time, except in a few wealthy homes. Cookies and pastries had mostly been fried in fat – pancakes, crêpes, crullers, and other goodies.
These early ovens were not easy to operate, lacking any thermostats of course, and it was an art to arrange the hot coals and other fuel so the cakes and cookies baked evenly. Sometimes they had to be turned several times while baking. Still, Icelandic housewives managed to churn out vanilla wreaths, crescents, spice cookies, cones, almond macaroons and innumerable other cookies and cakes in these ovens. And let’s not forget the vínarterta, served at all coffee parties at the turn of the century.

A Cuisine of Few Flavors

Most dishes were fairly bland; few spices were used and then sparingly. Often salt and pepper were the only flavorings, but some housewives had in their cupboards cinnamon, ginger, cloves, allspice, and bay leaves, and sometimes nutmeg, dried lemon peel, and vanilla extract; only the very brave ones had a jar of curry powder to add to their fricassee sauce – but did so very timidly. A traditional Icelandic curry is very mild indeed. Some recipes mention “soy,” not oriental soy sauce, but gravy browning, a homemade or store-bought caramelized coloring for brown sauces.

Onions were imported but other vegetables used were those that could be grown in Iceland: Potatoes, rutabagas, turnips, kale and a few others. Fresh fruit was rare, with the exception of berries and rhubarb (treated as fruit in Iceland). Porridges and puddings were very popular and for special occasions, a grand many-layered dessert like trifle was made by those who could afford it, or maybe a custard flavored with vanilla, rum, almonds, lemon peel, chocolate, coffee, or even canned pineapple.

The Influence of the Porridge Schools

During the twenties and thirties, increasing influence of home economists and cooking teachers at the homemaker’s academies (the so-called “porridge schools”) can be noted and the cookbooks of the Depression era put greater emphasis on varied everyday food than most earlier books had done.

The most influential cookbooks of the twentieth century are without question Jóninna Sigurðardóttir’s book, first published in 1915 as Matreiðslubók fyrir fátæka og ríka (A Cookbook for Poor and Rich; the four subsequent editions were just called Matreiðslubók) and Helga Sigurðardóttir’s Matur og drykkur (Food and Drink), first published in 1947 and still widely in use. Both these ladies had been educated in Denmark and their cooking is sound middle-class Danish cooking, with an Icelandic twist.

Helga Sigurðardóttir can safely be called the grand lady of Icelandic cooking. She wrote several popular cookbooks before she published Matur og drykkur, which soon became the Icelandic kitchen bible and remained in that position for decades. This is the epitome of Icelandic-Danish cooking, the comfort food modern-day Icelanders feel nostalgic about but rarely cook themselves; flour-thickened sauces, the Sunday roast leg of lamb, pork roast with cracklings, lemon mousse, prune compote, fish salad with mayonnaise sauce, meatballs in brown sauce with jam, and Danish apple charlotte.

Most meals had two courses; the main course and a substantial dessert. The main course was usually fish or meat, simply cooked and served with potatoes in some form. Potatoes were an integral part of each meal and to this day, many still refuse to consider a meal complete without them. On weekdays, the dessert was usually a porridge, milk pudding, or a soup of some kind.

Vegetables were a bit more varied than they had been earlier and cultivation was increasing. Cabbage and cauliflower largely replaced kale, and carrots replaced turnips. Tomatoes and cucumbers were grown in greenhouses heated with water from hot springs but were still rare.

Many Icelanders used to view vegetables primarily as a supplement, something to make the “real food” last longer, and when they could afford to buy their fill of meat and fish, they saw no reason to add greens, often called “cabbage food.” By the 1940s variety increased; for instance Matur og drykkur has some recipes using both fresh and canned mushrooms. Other canned vegetables, like string beans and asparagus, were also available by then. The use of tomatoes was increasing and the Icelanders also discovered tomato ketchup and mustard.

Elaborate cream-filled layer cakes and tortes made an entrance in Icelandic coffee parties during the war. Besides whipped cream, these grand creations were often decorated with jam, buttercream, custard, almond paste, canned fruit and candy. Fresh fruit – apples, oranges, and sometimes bananas and pears – were mostly seen at Christmastime.

There was little increase in the use of spices but still a few newcomers like paprika made their appearance. On the other hand, spices like cinnamon, cloves and allspice had virtually disappeared from savory recipes even though they were still used for sweet dishes and cakes. Dried herbs were almost unknown and fresh herbs were rare, with the exception of parsley, chives, and dill.

The Cocktail Sauce Years

It was in the 1960s that Icelanders began to travel abroad, and cooking trends from foreign, but not exotic, countries became more evident. These were the “shrimp cocktail years” of the western world and Iceland was no exception. The omnipresent Icelandic “cocktail sauce” was invented in the early years of this decade, without doubt influenced by European shrimp cocktail sauces, but the Icelandic version enjoys a much more versatile role.

At home, the Sunday roast leg and rack of lamb still held the throne but breaded and pan-fried lamb and pork cutlets and lamb Wiener schnitzel decorated with herring, capers and lemon were also popular treats. Some were even more daring and made roast beef or T-bone steak on feast days. Poached or pan-fried haddock was still the most common everyday food and any meat or fish that was pan-fried was usually covered with bread crumbs and fried in lots of margarine or butter. Meat was usually well done or overdone and fish and vegetables were often overcooked as well. Dishes made from ground meat became increasingly popular and one of the dishes of this decade was beef patties with fried egg and onions.

Icelanders were slowly learning to eat vegetable salads and the most common was coleslaw made from grated or shredded cabbage, grated carrots, and chopped apples, often with lots of mayonnaise dressing. A salad made from grated carrots and raisins was also very common and both were frequently enriched with crushed canned pineapple. Other accompaniments mostly stayed the same: boiled potatoes, sometimes glazed, and boiled vegetables – such as “ORA green beans” (named for the canning factory that produced them; actually marrowfat peas) – but rice and spaghetti were beginning to be seen, largely as additions to, not replacements for, the ubiquitous potatoes. Spaghetti was mostly served in a so-called “Italian sauce,” usually a béchamel sauce with some tomato paste or ketchup added.

Food on a Fast Track

Trade restrictions were beginning to ease a little and some types of vegetables and fruits were available year round. Desserts made from fresh and canned fruit partly replaced the dried fruit compotes, sweet fruit soups, and gelatin desserts of earlier decades.

The first pizza parlor was opened in 1969 but did not survive long. Just a few years later, most people were familiar with pizzas and some even knew how to make them. These early homemade pizzas were usually covered with a thick layer of fried ground meat, ketchup, canned mushrooms, pineapple chunks, and grated cheese. Hamburgers invaded the roadside shops. They were fried to death, often served with a pineapple slice and a fried egg, and almost always eaten with a knife and fork.

Various kinds of seafood and vegetable gratins gained popularity during the1970s and 1980s, partly due to the influence of the Icelandic Dairy Produce Marketing Association. New types of cheese were now being manufactured and the Association’s experimental kitchen was constantly churning out colorful leaflets with recipes to introduce people to these new cheeses. Dishes that combine fish and cheese are more often seen in Iceland than in most other countries, probably due to the influence of these leaflets. Icelanders also learned to appreciate langoustines and shrimp, formerly regarded with horror, and a shrimp dip with Ritz crackers became obligatory party food. Scallops also gained popularity, along with many types of fish not formerly eaten, like monkfish and ocean perch.

An everyday meal no longer had to have at least two courses but starters and soups became increasingly common at dinner parties. Everyday desserts were slowly disappearing and Icelandic housewives gradually moved away from the baking frenzy of earlier years. At the same time, more and more types of bread became available in bakeries, and some people baked their own. An increasing awareness of nutrition and a healthy diet could be noted.

The Icelandic restaurant scene underwent dramatic changes in the 1980s and new restaurants mushroomed. People began to dine out without a special reason, which had been almost unknown, and they found many unfamiliar tastes to savor, as Italian, Chinese, American, and Indian restaurants emerged.

Foreign Flavors

At the beginning of a new millennium, Icelandic cooking, not least restaurant cooking, has become increasingly international in character. More ingredients have become available in Icelandic shops and it has become easier to cook authentic foreign dishes and follow every modern culinary trend. But at the same time interest in Icelandic resources has been on the increase. Local game has been popularized and flash-fried guillemot and puffin breasts have appeared on restaurant menus, to the horror of many experienced housewives, who had been taught to cook the birds for not less than three hours. Many recipes mix traditional Icelandic ingredients and exotic vegetables, fruits, and spices.

Now almost any type of spice can be found in specialty shops in addition to all kinds of vinegars and oils, oriental fish sauces, Mexican hot sauces and salsas, and so on. As elsewhere in the western world, extra-virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar, sun-dried tomatoes, pine nuts, and black olives are among the key words to innumerable trendy recipes. And then there is the garlic. Icelanders began a love affair with garlic in the 1980s and now it is sometimes said that they are the greatest garlic importers in the world; Icelanders use more garlic per person than any other people who do not grow their own. Ginger and chilli peppers have also soared in popularity, along with fresh herbs.

At home, lamb no longer reigns supreme and people now eat less haddock – and that means less fish, because other types of fish have not really managed to replace it in the Icelandic heart. Pasta has to some extent replaced haddock and potatoes as everyday food. However, many Icelandic pasta dishes are awash in heavy cream and cheese sauces and sometimes the pasta seems merely an addition. Cooked pasta or rice has also become a common side dish to all kinds of meat and fish dishes; boiled potatoes are no longer regulatory.

Desserts are not often seen now except at dinner parties or on festive occasions, but coffee parties are still popular – and most Icelandic housewives are still able to muster their old cake-baking skills when needed.

Interest in cooking has been on the increase in recent years, even though people cook less at home and more ready-made food is available in stores. It has never been so easy to cook good food - and never so easy not to cook at all.

Nanna Rögnvaldardóttir