Food of Iceland: Blóðmör

Blóðmör and its cousin, lifrarpylsa, are both typical of countries where the going is tough and using every part of an animal is a necessity. Slátur, as they are known collectively, is made by mixing animal products that aren’t particularly enjoyable to consume—offal, blood, stomach lining—and combining them with suet, oats, and, if you’re lucky, the scantest sprinkle of seasoning.

So what do you do when there’s a skin bag of innards that needs tasting? Give it to the intern.

Luckily, this intern comes from a place where slátur has been exalted to the position of national dish. In Scotland, haggis is a much lusted-after meal, and we also regularly enjoy ‘black pudding,’ our version of blóðmör, as part of the traditional, artery-clogging Scottish breakfast.

We’ve discovered the trick to enjoying these questionable foods is to fry them. Stick all of that fried stuff on a plate, pour yourself a mug of tea, and bam, your hangover is cured!

“So what do you do when there’s a skin bag of innards that needs tasting? Give it to the intern.”

The Icelandic way to cook blóðmör is to either boil it and serve with mashed potatoes—as a Scot, I can get behind this—or slice it up and fry it sprinkled with sugar. Sorry Iceland, but you’re on your own there.

I went with the way I know best, a full Scottish fry-up: eggs, bacon, tomato, mushroom and, of course, the blóðmör. You know what? It’s bloody delicious. If any purists want to come after me, go ahead. Our heritage can only survive when embraced and adapted. I even made baked beans even though I despise them—tradition must be respected, after all. Fry your blóðmör for breakfast, and you won’t regret it. Sláinte—I mean skál.

For more Food of Iceland, click here.