Feast Like An Icelander, Holiday Edition

Taking a look at Icelandic holiday staples

So, you wanna feast like an Icelander? I hope those pants you’re wearing are loose fit because after this, you’ll be so sad that you’ll spring. A traditional Icelandic Christmas meal, eaten and celebrated on December 24th under the live broadcast of church bells tolling in the festivities, brings joy to the natives and terror to the uninitiated.

Historically, Icelandic food tradition stems mostly from two things: the self-preservation instinct needed to survive the barren conditions of the country, and Danish influence. The former is exhibited in foods such as the salty, smoky hangikjöt, while the latter brought lavish courses to a destitute people.

But enough of history talk. Let’s see how an Icelandic household eats during Christmas.

Drinking

Jólaöl

Some time, somewhere, someone married the sweetness of Appelsín with the bitterness of Malt (the non-alcoholic, yeasty soft drink, not the booze). It was the 1950s, and the Egils brewery had just debuted their orange fizzy Appelsín. Just like the advert goes, it was love at first sight, resulting in the happiest matrimony since the German Radler. If you’re a hardcore traditionalist, you’ll mix the two by yourself. If you want to skip the hassle, you could just grab a pre-mixed can off the nearest Bónus shelf. Some heretics swear by improving the concoction by splashing in a dash of Coca-Cola. I, for one, am not a fan.

Alcohol (?)

Drinking alcohol at the Christmas dinner table is generally not a thing in Iceland. That being said, unless you’re in the company of strict teetotalers, you’ll likely get away with a glass of wine or two. Still, be prepared for judgy comments.

Appetiser & sides

Graflax or herring on rúgbrauð

Gravlax, lox, cured salmon, whatever you wanna call it. Put that shit on a piece of rye bread with a thin bed of delicious mustard dill sauce and you’re this close to landing on ÚTL’s Nice List. Start the night by preparing your cardiovascular system for heavy traffic. If you don’t have salmon, you could always try herring. Cured in salt, sugar and various spices, it’s no wonder our only war was fought over fish.

Laufabrauð

Possibly the exclusive holiday contender which counts as a homegrown staple. Intricately designed with leaf-like cut-outs, this piece of flatbread is a must for an authentic Christmas experience. It resembles a biscuit more than bread, being extremely thin, and becomes extremely brittle once fried. Traditionally baked in tallow, modern recipes usually substitute the fat with vegetable oils. Once ready for consumption, now begins the delicate act of smearing it with butter without breaking it. Good luck with that!

Ora tinned veggies

Nothing cranks up the Icelandic Christmas spirit better than the sight of an Ora tin. Its ubiquity at the Christmas dinner table is unrivalled. The holy trinity everyone’s thinking of — no, not the one we’re celebrating — are the tinned corn, peas and pickled red cabbage adding some colour to their dinner plate. If you want to double down, there’s even a Christmas beer dedicated to the side dish, featuring the tin’s iconic yellow and red colour scheme.

Caramelised potatoes

Instead of relying on the sugars naturally occurring in the vegetable itself — think caramelised onions — this side dish shamelessly incorporates heaps of sugar and butter to form a delicious, calorie-heavy coating. Both sweet and savoury, we all put our morals aside when celebrating JC’s birthday.

Main Dish

Hangikjöt, hamborgarhryggur, ptarmigan

When it comes to the main dish, there are several options for proteins. The most widespread and popular choices in Icelandic households are hangikjöt and hamborgarhryggur. Hangikjöt is a piece of lamb that’s hung and smoked with sheep dung. Yes, you read that correctly. Although most commonly eaten around Christmas time, you can buy cold cuts of the meat year-round (we won’t judge).

Hamborgarhryggur is derived from the Danes, which they in turn picked up from Germany. Don’t let the name fool you — there are no hamburgers involved. Pink, glazed, tender pork, who can resist? For a more tropical vibe to the party, it’s topped with pineapple slices. Hamborgarhryggur has become increasingly popular in recent years.

Finally, in the meat department, there’s the poultry alternative. Historically regarded as poor people’s food (now low-income individuals), is the rock ptarmigan. The sale and distribution of the bird is now illegal, so you’ll have to source yours covertly.

Vegan options

If you abhor the thought of killing animals for your consumption, there are two options for you: a nut roast or a variation of a vegan Wellington. Pair that with the cornucopia of sides, sauces and Jólaöl, and you may just convince yourself that you’re not missing out.

Dessert

Last, but by no means the least, is the dessert. An established holiday custom in Icelandic households is ris a la mande. It’s not necessarily defined as a dessert, in the sense that it’s sometimes served in the morning or eaten as an appetizer.

In most cases, the ris a la mande is more than just a meal — it’s also a very serious game. During the porridge’s preparation, a single almond is dropped into the slurry. Whoever finds it when served wins. It’s almost always rigged, but sore losers can find solace in the heaping serving of cream, cinnamon sugar and cherry compote in their own bowl.

If that’s not your fancy, you could always grab some ice cream.