Fine Foods Íslandica is leading the way in sustainable seaweed farming
It’s not everyday that you get to meet Iceland’s first (and only) seaweed farmer. But it’s exactly this that is often overlooked about life in Iceland: the sheer breadth and diversity of people living here. Jamie Lee is a pioneering farmer and innovator, who has the envious claim of being the founder and owner of Iceland’s first seaweed farm, Fine Foods Íslandica.
I have known Jamie through her Instagram account @finefoods.is, where her seaweed posts caught my attention a few years ago. Being closer to Hólmavík while living in Ísafjörður this year meant that I could finally take up Jamie on her invitation to see exactly what she has been up to at Fine Foods.
Seaweed shepherd
The first thing that strikes you about Jamie is her stillness. Her voice and demeanour exude calm, a quality that I imagine comes in handy while being out at the sea. The San Francisco transplant has called Iceland home for more than six years now and has, like many immigrants who move for the love of Iceland, never really lived in Reykjavík.
“As a graphic designer, it was hard for me in the States to study anything science related. But this program is so unique,” Jamie shares of the University of Westfjords programme that had a cross-section of students, from teachers to bureaucrats to “even a surfer dude” she recollects.
Having nursed a lifelong love for seaweed, Jamie gravitated towards it as part of her studies. What sparked her interest in the remarkable relationship between seaweed and the communities it supports, was her thesis exploring local ecological knowledge that seaweed harvesters have honed over time. In the process, she learned more about kloþáng (also known as knotted wrack or Norwegian kelp), the most common brown algae in Iceland. She went on to layer that with studies on the industrial and socio-economic impact it has on communities in Reykhólar.
It was “Plastic,” a completely biodegradable water bottle made from red algae created as the graduation project of product design student Ari Jónsson that led Jamie further “down the rabbit hole,” she confesses, “of how seaweed is an important basis of marine habitat. It is a food source for many organisms. So I asked myself, if we continued to use seaweed and use much more of it, then what would that future look like? What is the impact of overharvesting seaweed on communities? On industries?”
Considering that 98% of all seaweed used in Europe is wild harvested, Jamie was convinced of the urgency to balance industry needs with sustainability. Seaweed farming was the way to go.
Sustainability & Community
Soon after graduating, Jamie founded Fine Foods Íslandica. What is in equal measures impressive and fascinating is how Jamie has combined her idealism and environmental concerns with a deeper love for community. “No one really has figured out what growing seaweed in Iceland means. Being such a new thing, I think people try to understand what it is supposed to be or look like. So there were questions like, ‘what do you think about salmon farms?’ And ‘do you think you can grow seaweed and salmon together?’ In the perspective of whether it’s an additive or extractive industry, we’re both extractive — but with seaweed, it is mostly extracting nutrients out of the water.”
On scale, Jamie is clear, “I think, if we were to do it on a really large scale like salmon farming, like Scotland or elsewhere, then seaweed farming can extract too much nutrients, or if we do it like China, we could be blocking a whole bay and that’s where we do not want to go to.”
“Also, with a smaller scale, we can understand and take care of our seaweed better. You can notice what’s going on, what is happening now versus if you have 10 kilometers of line, you’re just busy processing it as an industry rather than carefully cultivating it.”
I think a lot of investment is being poured into making it as large as possible, mechanizing it, making it high tech both within and outside of Iceland. That’s how Europe is trying to compete with Asian stock. So there is focus on scale, but I haven’t seen someone actually doing the work of, you know, working on the farm,” Jamie adds wryly.
“Potentially, I think growing seaweed like our aquaculture will be more regulated than wild harvesting. There is a general perception that we have a lot of this abundance, but it’s not looking at diversity. And I see a lot of outside interest to come in because Iceland is so easy to let people harvest wild. It’s so easy. It’s seen almost like mowing the lawn, but it’s more like deforestation. I know that a lot of pharmaceuticals and companies are interested in this type of seaweed. So there is pressure building up.”
Cooking with Fine Foods
It’s more likely that you’d think of Japan or other South East Asian countries than Iceland if you hear the word seaweed. But did you know that, alongside fish, it was seaweed that has had a significant impact on life here? In times of famine and extreme weather, it’s the modest sea vegetable that not only helped prevent scurvy, but also ward off malnutrition — a true superfood fashion.
Such is its importance, that its consumption is well documented in the Sagas, with 13th century law book Grágás regulating the harvest of seaweed that essentially permits that anyone can eat berries and dulse from another man’s land, unless you steal it. While culinary use of seaweed in Iceland has steadily declined, much has sadly been lost in the last century — recipes for breads using red algae or dulse ground to a flour, in lieu of wheat have all but disappeared.
In the spirit of reaching a wider audience, Jamie has been experimenting in the kitchen with recipes and products that spotlight seaweed in a refreshing new avatar. Her “sjavarblanda” is a blend of various seaweed flakes, glistening emerald and moss shards that pack quite a umami punch. Stirred into cream cheese it turns a bland spread to something memorable. Her Icelandic furikake riffs on a traditional Japanese rice seasoning blend of dried fish, toasted sesame seeds, and aonori and nori seaweed, using local harðfiskur instead.
My personal favourite however, is her mussel stock powder, which came about in an effort to use mussels that were too small for the open market. Intensely savoury and balanced, it is a breeze to whip up a steaming cup of soup, or elevate mundane dishes simply by whisking in some mussel stock.
You can buy Fine Food products at several stores in Reykjavík or order them on the company website. They make for the perfect Icelandic souvenir.
Future Factory
“This community has accepted me with open arms,” Jamie says. “We hope that we will find enough of a market so that we can actually have seaweed as a side stream income for seasonal fishermen or farmers in the area who are interested. The dream would be that Fine Foods will support enough livelihoods so that young people want to join and maybe it gives them an incentive to stay in the area.”
Like many founders, Jamie juggles several roles, from boat woman — “no really, it is Beggi who is the boatsman,” she chuckles — to sea swimmer (often swimming out to check on her lines), strategist, publicist and recipe developer. She is hoping for further grants and increased interest in seaweed to further her dreams of opening a seaweed processing factory.
“Seaweed lovers are hardcore, they are all in for anything seaweed,” she smiles. For now, Jamie has set up a co-working processing space, further underscoring her deep commitment to coastal communities, in an effort to invite and nurture like-minded people. The space is open for anyone interested in learning more, or doing more in Hólmavík.
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