Fiskisúpa - Icelandic fish soup
"Fiskisúpa is Iceland ... it’s rainy mornings and miraculous moments of sunshine. Pink skies at midnight and waterfalls that seem to sink down to the center of the earth. Rocky coastlines and green hilltops, horses with fabulous hair, and cozy farmhouses with yarn covered chairs.
So if you gasp at the cup of heavy cream this nutritionist put in her soup know that I’m eating pink skies and waterfalls and elves called window peepers and pools that drown witches. Remember that food is memory and information and nutrition and is made up of so much more than just calories." Abra's Kitchen
Having embarked on this post I find that almost every tourist I find who has tasted this soup waxes lyrical. But not quite as lyrical as Abra of Abra's Kitchen. Roll over Richard Fidler, whose book, Saga Land, co-written with Kári Gíslason is the inspiration for this post. Saga Land is my current book group book. It is not a cookbook at all, but a mix of a personal quest by Kári Gíslason, a history of Iceland, a summary of the Icelandic sagas, and a travel book. Abra on the other hand (she gives no surname) is an American nutritionist and food blogger, who went to Iceland for a week to celebrate her sister's wedding. The picture above is of the recipe she gives, which came from a tiny village called Hellnar.
I have a few friends who have holidayed in Iceland - not all from Europe - even some Australians and they all seem to love it. I have also seen a few Icelandic films - all of which demonstrate a wry humour. In all of them, and in the photographs in Richard Fidler's book, the countryside, I have to say, looks pretty bleak and grim, and not that appealing to me, interesting though it is. For it has volcanoes, hot springs, ice, the northern lights and a spectacular rift valley where two of earths geophysical plates meet. A land of ice and fire, a fact that perhaps explains its usage as a filming location for A Game of Thrones - a Tale of Ice and Fire. But now that I have browsed a few sites in my quest for the quintessential recipe for Fisksupa, I see that it's probably just a matter of having a good photographer. Abra's sister's wedding photographs for example are rather lovely - and here are two I found on Google Images
"Iceland is not a sunshine and sand type of vacation, it is moody and mystical, foggy and chilly, and utterly spectacular. It is a place that calls for warm, comforting, life-affirming food. For adventure and curiosity." Abra's kitchen
Fish, until fairly recently, was Iceland's biggest, even, dare I say, only, industry. Tourism is now big - maybe even bigger. The overfishing of cod, and competition from large-scale fisheries from elsewhere around the Atlantic has probably not helped the fishing industry, although I believe the cod numbers are on the rise again. Nevertheless fish, is the main food - with lamb a close second and fiskisúpa is the national dish. There is also a dish called Plokkfiskur which is a fish stew and not the same thing, and moreover not as tempting looking.
So how do you make the delicious looking fish soup at the top of the page? The link for that particular recipe is up there too, but, of course, with a dish such as this the variations are probably endless. From the few that I have checked out and which I give below, I think the basic things are leeks, onions, potatoes, fish (white preferably), tomatoes, cream, chives. Other liquids that are used vary - sherry, sherry vinegar, red wine vinegar, port, stock, water - sometimes there is saffron, sometimes even curry powder, which Abra suggests is a constant. I don't think it is.
Richard Fidler's recipe is given on the Word of Mouth site, where it is written out like a 'proper' recipe. Here is how he describes it in the book.
"Chop up a good-sized onion and a leek, and sauté them in a large pot with some butter. Add a dash of sherry and let it reduce a little. Pour in several litres of water mixed with chicken or vegetable stock. Throw in a dash of red wine vinegar and let the concoction simmer for around fifteen minutes.
Then add chunks of haddock or cod or Arctic char (if you happen to be in that part of the world), and a finely chopped tomato. Let it all simmer for five minutes, then pour in half a litre of cream, and let it simmer for another five minutes, taking care not to let the soup come to a boil, otherwise the cream might curdle. Ladle it into a bowl, place a tablespoon of thickened cream in the centre, and sprinkle with chopped chives. Served with fresh bread and beer, this soup will warm your winter bones very nicely after a long day's hiking around the fjords."
All of which is gloriously imprecise. And for a 'national dish' kind of recipe which is bound to have those countless variations, it's probably appropriate. However if you do want to know the precise quantities go to the Word of Mouth site. The version that he talks about was from a small restaurant in the very small town of Isafjördur in the north west of the country. I looked it up and found what is probably the actually café they ate in, shown below - lots of raves on Trip Advisor. And below that is the soup that is served there.
Such a lot of cream. But yes, the cream does seem to be the thing.
"When you spy the extra dollop of whipped cream on top of this fiskisúpa remember that the Icelandic people believe in fairies and that you can swim in blue lagoons and watch mysterious geysers spew hot sulfuric water. That there are puffins, and black sand beaches, and a yogurt named skyr." Abra's Kitchen
Here are some of the other recipes I found:
Above left to right - Reykjavík Grapevine, recipe written by York Underwood, Mimi Thorisson on her website called Manger and Industry Eats.
They all seem to be pinkish in colour and have big chunks of fish on top. the black thing that you see with the bread - I saw it in a few pictures - is a piece of crisp fried fish skin.
I might try this out some time. I confess I had not thought of Iceland as a foodie destination - and I am pretty sure that I shall never go there - moreover there aren't any Icelandic restaurants around I'm pretty sure. At least not here. And yet, Abra seems to think that it is indeed a food heaven.
"Iceland is a place unlike any other. At times it feels as if you have landed on the moon, rather than a tiny Island in the middle of the Atlantic. The people are warm and lovely, the landscape is out of a fairytale, and the food was right up my alley. Warm bowls of rich and creamy soup, fluffy sourdough bread with a thick smear of the worlds greatest butter, and fresh baked goods that rival the croissant mastery of France." Abra's Kitchen
Well written Abra. I wish I could write like that.
