Ég prjónaði húfu

I knitted a hat - a special hat for a special friend

We have a dear friend whom we met five years ago in the hot tub at the Borg swimming pool, and who has since become something like our "Icelandic father." Someone we can truly rely on whenever we have a problem. He also usually takes us to the airport when we're in Iceland.

When he dropped us off at the airport in April 2024, we were relatively early – and he insisted on driving us a bit toward the Blue Lagoon on the newly built and recently opened road over the fresh lava. I wasn't entirely convinced, and the signs along the road saying "Do not stop under any circumstances, the lava is still hot!" or something similar weren't just for fun; they were meant seriously. And there was still steam rising from the asphalt on both sides...

I was relieved when he turned around and we drove back towards Reykjanesbraut and the airport - but it was definitely a special experience!

And here, on another trip to the airport in August 2024, he wanted to give us a last farewell view of the volcanic eruption from a small hill north of Reykjanesbraut...

It's become a bit of a running joke between us that he regularly asks me on the way to the airport if he should include a little detour somewhere...?!? But there's currently no active volcano on Reykjanes, so it's "safe."

But with our special volcano tours with him in mind, I've knitted him this hat - I hope he likes it!

Kær kveðja, best regards!

[Translated from here.]

Rabarbarapæ

Rhubarb pie

Today I have a recipe for a very simple and delicious Icelandic rhubarb cake for you.

In our original homeland Germany, the rhubarb harvest begins in April and traditionally ends at the end of June. An old farmer's rule states that no more rhubarb should be harvested after St. John's Day (June 24th). This rule has the following background: The high temperatures cause the oxalic acid content in rhubarb to rise. And too much oxalic acid is unhealthy for humans. However, this has nothing to do with the rhubarb flowering, which often begins around this time; there is probably no connection between flowering and rising oxalic acid levels. One also often reads that the plant needs a rest period after the harvest from the end of June onwards to gather enough strength for a good harvest the following year.

In Icelandic cuisine the rhubarb season on the island usually begins in early June and practically lasts throughout the summer. I have no idea whether the plants here don't need a rest period, or whether the longer dormancy period during the Icelandic winter compensates for this.

The temperatures in the Icelandic summer are probably not so high that the oxalic acid concentration in the rhubarb becomes too high, but you often read the tip to use an extra tablespoon of sugar for rhubarb that is harvested at the end of summer, because the rhubarb also becomes more acidic as the season progresses.

So this is my last rhubarb recipe in Germany for this year - and I'm looking forward to having fresh rhubarb again when we fly to Iceland next week!

Ingredients for about 6 servings

500 g rhubarb

1 tbsp sugar

200 g melted butter

180 g white sugar

1 tsp baking powder

120 g wheat flour

1 tsp ground vanilla

2 eggs

Preparation

Wash and trim the rhubarb, cut it into slices about 1/2 inch (1-2 cm) thick, and place it in a baking dish. Sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of sugar, stir, and let it stand briefly while you prepare the dough.

In a bowl, mix the melted butter with the sugar, flour, baking powder and vanilla.

Add the eggs and whisk thoroughly.

Pour the batter over the rhubarb.

Then bake the cake in a preheated oven at 350 °F (180 °C) upper and lower heat for about 30 minutes until the cake is golden brown (toothpick test!).

Let cool slightly and then serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream or both.

Bon appetit!

[Translated from here.]

Sérstök afmælisgjöf: Matreiðsla með Sabrínu

A special birthday gift: Cooking with Sabrina

This year, I celebrated a milestone birthday - a "stórafmæli", as they say in Icelandic - I turned 50 in March. For this special occasion, my husband wanted to give me an equally special gift. After some thought, he came up with the idea of asking Sabrina from Bitesized Iceland if she was available for a private cooking event...

We had met Sabrina the previous summer during her food tour at Reykjavík’s Old Harbor - and we were absolutely thrilled. Not only by the tour itself, but also by Sabrina’s infectious passion for Icelandic food culture.

Source: Bitesized Iceland

Sabrina is originally from the U.S. and has been married to an Icelander for over 20 years. For many years, they lived in Denmark with their children, and now they've been living in Iceland for several years.

As an immigrant herself, Sabrina brings a fresh perspective to life and food in Iceland - one that differs from those who grew up on fermented shark, sheep’s head, and licorice-filled chocolate. But thanks to her Icelandic family, especially her mother-in-law, she also has a deep, personal connection to traditional Icelandic cuisine. Sabrina’s genuine enthusiasm and curiosity for Icelandic food shines through - she truly is the perfect person to introduce Icelandic cuisine to visitors through her company, Bitesized Iceland.

And yes - she was willing to offer us a cooking event. Yay!

My husband arranged for Sabrina to come to our cottage one afternoon and to cook together with us. In advance, she sent us a few menu suggestions, and together we chose the following:

Appetizer: A small brauðterta ("bread cake") with smoked salmon and egg

Main course: Foal fillet from Kjötkompaní with mushroom sauce, oven-roasted potatoes and carrots, and red cabbage salad with blueberries and feta

Dessert: Skyr mousse with ginger biscuits and blueberry sauce

Sabrina arrived around 4 p.m., as planned, fully equipped with all the groceries we'd need - and a big bag of kitchen tools, just in case our cottage wasn’t well-stocked.

And then came a very special highlight:

Since we were cooking together for my 50th birthday,  she brought her finest dishes to make everything feel extra beautiful and festive. It was such a lovely gesture - I was overjoyed!

She even brought along a selection of Christmas spoons from her mother-in-law - especially for me, the spoon from 1975, the year I was born. How cute and loving is that?!?

After unpacking the groceries, cookbooks she had brought with her, as well as the list of ingredients for our cooking session, she tied on her apron, I tied on mine - and off we went!

Sabrina then unpacked all the groceries and the cookbooks she had brought with her, as well as the list of ingredients for our cooking session - and then she tied on her apron and I tied on my apron and then we cooked together!

We had so much fun!

We started with the brauðterta so it could chill in the fridge. 

Then we prepared the skyr mousse: pure skyr, sugar, grated lemon zest, a generous pinch of cardamom, whipped cream, and white chocolate - all blended together and set to chill in the fridge. It was divine. I've been making it regularly ever since, always with fresh lemon zest and cardamom - I just love it.

Next, we got the side dishes ready, like the oven-roasted potatoes.

Then came the star of the evening: the foal fillet, which Sabrina seared in a pan. The marinated meat - from Kjötkompaní, of course - had been infused with truffle and wild garlic. Sabrina had introduced us to their branch in Grandi during last year's food tour. Their meat is absolutely top quality, albeit pricey - about €80 resp. $90 per kilo at the time. But perfect for a special occasion like this! It's definitely worth the money – but definitely not something you'd treat yourself to on a daily basis.

Sabrina used a meat thermometer to make sure the foal was cooked to perfection. And it absolutely was.

When dinner was ready, Sabrina lovingly set the table with her beautiful dishes, and we sat down to eat together.

Here's a photo of our appetizer:

A small brauðterta (bread cake) layered with smoked salmon, hard-boiled eggs, fresh herbs and a creamy blend of mayonnaise, Miracle Whip and sour cream for the perfect texture and flavor.

After chilling in the fridge, then Sabrina and I had such fun decorating it - ​​with eggs, green asparagus, fresh chives, and caviar. Doesn’t it look like a little path into a Hobbit house?

This photo really captures what the evening meant to me - just how happy and grateful I was. It was a truly special experience. I had a wonderful evening!

This is how the meal began!

Next came the main course - a large platter of oven-roasted potatoes and carrots, topped with the perfectly cooked foal fillet. A rich mushroom sauce served in a matching gravy boat, and a vibrant red cabbage salad with blueberries and feta rounded out the meal.

It tasted incredible!!!

And finally - the dessert. The skyr mousse was creamy and light, topped with crunchy ginger biscuit crumbs and a sweet blueberry sauce. We even ate it with those lovely Christmas spoons. Just perfect. I’m in love with that mousse!

After dinner, we relaxed on the sofa and chatted with Sabrina until 9:30 p.m. We had so much in common - from Icelandic food, to learning the language, to life on the island.

It was truly a perfect evening - cooking, eating, and talking. For me it was the perfect birthday gift.

Thank you so much, Sabrina.
Takk fyrir!

[Translated from here.]

Jólaskeiðar

Icelandic Christmas spoons

Many Icelandic households own these silver Christmas spoons ("jólaskeið").

Since 1946, a special limited-edition Christmas spoon has been released each year during the holiday season.

Today, many Icelandic families have collections of these spoons. We first came across them thanks to Sabrina from Bitesized Iceland and her Icelandic mother-in-law’s collection. Her mother-in-law has purchased a spoon almost every year and proudly brings them out for Christmas celebrations so that each family member can enjoy dessert using the jólaskeið from their birth year.

The history of Icelandic Christmas spoons

The tradition of Icelandic Christmas spoons began with master goldsmith Guðlaugur A. Magnússon, who designed and sold the first silver spoon in 1946.

Guðlaugur Ásberg Magnússon was born on December 16, 1902, the son of a farmer in the municipality of Fellsstrandarhreppur, in Dalabyggð, located in the Vesturland region in western Iceland.

From childhood, Guðlaugur had a deep love for music and musical instruments.

It is said that his sisters, Hansína Magnúsdóttir (1895–1971), who married a merchant in Ísafjörður, and Borghildur Magnúsdóttir (1894–1963), who married a Danish machinist and later ran a restaurant in Ísafjörður after his death in 1920, decided to support their brother’s musical ambitions—but only on the condition that he also learned a proper craft. So Guðlaugur began an apprenticeship in goldsmithing in Ísafjörður under Einar Oddur Kristjánsson and Karl Ó. Runólfsson. Runólfsson, who had studied trumpet, violin, and composition abroad and was a member of the Icelandic Symphony Orchestra, also taught Guðlaugur to play the trumpet.

After completing his apprenticeship, Guðlaugur spent a year in Denmark to continue his trumpet studies at the Royal Danish Academy of Music with Lauritz Sørensen.

In 1924, Guðlaugur opened his first fine metal workshop in Ísafjörður. He later moved the business to Hafnarfjörður, and finally to Reykjavík in 1927.

Alongside his goldsmithing career, Guðlaugur remained an active musician in Reykjavík. He played the trumpet and flugelhorn in the Reykjavík Brass Band and was involved in founding the Icelandic Musicians’ Association, serving on its board for several years. He also played in various trumpet and symphony orchestras, as well as dance and jazz bands such as the Blue Boys.

Blue Boys - Icelandic jazz band (1935 - 1938)
Source: glatkistan.com

Despite his busy life as a craftsman, musician, and entrepreneur, Guðlaugur managed to balance it all - and was even a family man. In 1929, he married María Hermannsdóttir (September 4, 1905 - May 15, 2001). Originally from Ketilseyri in Dýrafjörður in the Westfjords, María had moved to Reykjavík at the age of nine to live with her aunt and cousin in Skólavörðustígur.

Maria Hermannsdóttir, Guðlaugur Magnússon
Source: mbl.is Source: ismus.is

Guðlaugur and María had four children: their eldest son Reynir (born 1930), who trained as a goldsmith under his father and took over the business ERNA ehf. in 1952; Óttar (born 1931), who became a businessman; Jónína (born 1933); and their youngest son, Magnús (born 1943), who also became a goldsmith and took over the former workshop in Skólavörðustígur in 1963 at the age of just 20.

The couple had a total of 18 grandchildren. Two of their granddaughters now run the jewelry stores that originated from Guðlaugur’s business. One grandson is a musician who has worked with artists such as Bubbi Morthens and Björk.

The first Christmas spoon 1946

Guðlaugur began producing silver tableware and cutlery in his Reykjavík workshop in 1936. One of his most iconic pieces is the traditional silver Christmas spoon, which has been issued annually in limited editions since 1946. These spoons are made from 925 sterling silver, with the spoon bowl plated in 24-carat gold.

The first Christmas spoon was crafted in 1946, designed by Guðlaugur Magnússon in collaboration with master woodcarver Karl Guðmundsson. Since then, many renowned Icelandic artists have contributed to the annual designs.

The first spoon from 1946
Source: GAM

The 1946 spoon features Reykjavík’s Cathedral Church (Dómkirkjan).

Dómkirkjan í Reykjavík (photo from Jan. 2025)

In 1947, Guðlaugur expanded his business, acquired new machinery, and outsourced the production from a sole proprietorship into a limited liability company: ERNA ehf.

It is said that Guðlaugur’s wife, María, often worried about how much he took on. He once promised her that he would slow down once he turned 50. Sadly, he could not keep that promise: Guðlaugur A. Magnússon passed away on November 13, 1952, just weeks before his 50th birthday.

Today, there are two lines of Christmas spoons that trace their origin to Guðlaugur A. Magnússon:

The Christmas spoons from ERNA

The gold and silversmith ERNA ehf., located at Skipholt 3 in Reykjavík, was taken over by Guðlaugur’s eldest son, Reynir Guðlaugsson, in 1952. The term "ehf." stands for einkahlutafélag, meaning limited liability company. Reynir led the company as master goldsmith until 2001. Today, ERNA is managed by his daughter, goldsmith and designer Ragnhildur Sif Reynisdóttir. The fourth generation, Reynir Már Ásgeirsson, now also works in the family business as a goldsmith.

Since 2015, Ragnhildur Sif has been in charge of designing ERNA’s Christmas spoons.

ERNA’s spoons follow a themed series lasting 12 years. Since 2015, the theme has been music. Fittingly, the first spoon in the series featured a trumpet - Guðlaugur’s favorite instrument. The back of each spoon features musical notes. During each 12-year cycle, the spoon bowl remains the same, but the handle design changes annually.

After the trumpet (2015), instruments like the violin, tuba, and saxophone have followed. All spoon bowls are 24-carat gold-plated, with the handles made of 925 silver.

The current Christmas spoon costs 29,500 ISK (just over €200 resp. $240).

The Christmas spoon from ERNA 2024
Source: erna.is

The Christmas spoons from GAM

The GAM (Guðlaugur A. Magnússon) store is located at Skólavörðustígur 10 in Reykjavík. After Guðlaugur’s death in 1952, the business was initially continued by his brother-in-law Hermann Hermansson, and later taken over by Guðlaugur’s youngest son, Magnús Haukur Guðlaugsson, in 1963. Since 2005, his daughter Hanna Sigríður Magnúsdóttir has run the store.

GAM typically keeps the spoon bowl consistent, while allowing the handle design to vary each year.

These spoons are made from 92.5% sterling silver and 7.5% copper, with the copper serving to harden the spoon. The spoon bowl is gold-plated.

Like ERNA, GAM also follows themed series - e.g. featuring biblical motifs, churches, or national heritage symbols.

The 2024 spoon from GAM costs 26,900 ISK (just under €190 resp. $220). Spoons from earlier years are somewhat cheaper, ranging from 24,900 ISK for recent ones to 18,900 ISK for the oldest still available.

For the 2024 edition, Hanna Sigríður designed a spoon featuring an eagle on a white shield within a blue cross - an homage to the Icelandic flag, marking the 80th anniversary of the Republic of Iceland. Surrounding the cross are white mountain avens (holtasóley), Iceland’s national flower since a 2004 vote. These symbols celebrate Iceland’s 80-year journey as a republic.

Source: gam.is

I personally find this Christmas spoon tradition very charming! Ever since learning about it, I’ve been checking secondhand shops to see if I might stumble upon one at a reasonable price. But at around €200 for a new silver spoon - no matter how beautiful or steeped in tradition - my husband thinks I’m crazy. And honestly, I can understand him.

But the spoons are beautiful!

[Translated from here.]

Nammidagur

Candy Day

In Iceland, Saturday is "nammidagur", or "Candy Day".

The basic idea of ​​"Candy Day" was that children shouldn't eat sweets every day, and to make this easier for them, there was a day on which they were allowed to snack - Saturday, "Candy Day."

That's why shops often have "nammidagur" on Saturdays, when there are discounts on sweets that are available for self-packing in plastic boxes or similar in the "Nammibar" - and the candy shelves look pretty plundered at the end of the day!

In Icelandic, sweets are called sælgæti, other synonyms are for example gotterí, gott, sætindi or nammi.

In addition, there are some more regional expressions:

In the past, sweets were often called "bolsía" (plural "bolsíur"). This term originates from the Danish word "bolsje" for candy. However, the term "bolsía" for sweets has apparently persisted to this day in northern Iceland, in the region of around Akureyri .

In Húsavík, however, people sometimes speak of mæra instead of sælgæti or something similar. Since 1994, a large town and family festival has taken place here every summer, the mærudagar. It began in April, then, from 1996, in June, and now always takes place on the last weekend in July. Residents colorfully decorate their neighborhoods, there are art events, music, and parties, and for children, there's a candy-throwing event (nammikast). There's even a special mærudagshlaup, where children can go and collect sweets (= "mæra") from specially marked houses.

Sweets at Nammibar

In many Icelandic shops, sweets were sold in the nammibar, a separate area in the store where sweets were offered in special transparent plastic boxes or similar and sold by weight.

You can still get this today in some places. I know it from the Hagkaup supermarket on Skeifan in Reykjavík, for example. You take a plastic bag and a small scoop and fill it with the treats you want, weigh the bag and the price is then based on the weight.

Nammiland in the Hagkaup supermarket

The story of Nammidagur

As far as I have found, nammidagur (= Candy Day) goes back to an initiative of Icelandic dentists in the 1980s.

In the interest of the dental health of Icelandic children and their future adults, dentists believed it was better to have a "sweets day" a week, on which they were allowed to indulge a little more, rather than eating something sweet every day and thus frequently exposing their teeth to sugar and sticky sweets. The idea behind this was probably that it would be easier for children to avoid sweets six days a week if they knew they could snack as much as they wanted on "nammidagur."

The initiative therefore had two main objectives:

On the one hand, the amount of sweets that the children ate should be reduced if they were no longer allowed to eat sweets every day but only once a week; on the other hand, the children should brush their teeth after eating on the Candy Day, when they had eaten their fill.

For Icelanders, a nation generally fond of sweet treats, this idea of ​​nammidagur apparently fell on fertile ground and in many families, candy day once a week on Saturday became a tradition.

Sweets at Nammibar

As a result, stores began offering discounts of up to 50% on their confectionery on Saturdays - that is, on sweets sold in such plastic containers for self-filling. However, this sometimes reached considerable proportions, and the floor of "Nammibar" was littered with fallen sweets by Saturday afternoon.

Nammigrís - Sweet Tooth

By the way, a sweet tooth, i.e. a person who likes to snack, is a "nammigrís" in Icelandic, literally a "candy-piglet".

However, this term isn't used derogatorily, but rather jokingly. So, the expression has nothing to do with the fact that the nammibar might look like a pigsty at the end of the nammidagur ...

[Translated from here.]