While driving on Snæfellsnes peninsula in West Iceland on Friday, my wife and I entered the only restaurant which was open at lunchtime in the fishing village Ólafsvík—at the gas station.
It was a quick stop. They only served hot dogs, hamburgers and deep fried fish and chips, not produced locally. Yet, only 500 meters from the restaurant is the harbor where some of the best and freshest fish in Iceland is unloaded, almost every hour. “Not for me,” my wife said. “I can’t eat here.” I told her that the next restaurant was one hour away and we drove on to Borgarnes.
The next pit stop was Vegamót, a gas station at a crossroads on the southern side of the peninsula, and an adjacent hotel. We decided to give it a try. Inside the gas station was a restaurant called Rjúkandi (‘Steaming’) and what a surprise it was. It was out of the blue. We had no clue that here, in the middle of nowhere, was by far the best pit stop restaurant in Iceland. It was even better than some of the fancy restaurants in Reykjavík. The menu of the days was horse and sweet potatoes with cheese and grapes; cod with roasted peppers and potatoes; Vichyssoise with rosemary; cod and green pears with fresh herbs; cod fish and corn cream with crunchy carrot; Icelandic tapas; and, of course, plokkfiskur fish casserole, an Icelandic delicacy.
Icelandic flat bread with home-made hummus, served at Rjúkandi. Photo: Páll Stefánsson. Bon appetite.
Páll Stefánsson – ps(at)icelandreview.com