A million penises on Main Street - The Icelandic Phallological Museum

The Icelandic Phallological Museum is really one of those sites that you need to see, whether or not you happen to be a rabid fan of penis.  It's located on one of the main streets in Reykjavik and is home to hundreds of penises of all shapes, sizes, and species. You'll find tiny penises, giant penises, curly penises, and straight penises.

A portion of a whale's penis.

The story of how it came about is about as interesting as anything in it's collection.  Apparently, the founder had a cattle whip as a young boy that was made out of a bull's penis.  As he got older, a friend of his heard about the penis whip and decided "Hey, I know what I'll get my friend Sigour for a gift: penises!".  So, he gave his friend a few penises.  Word then spread that Sigour really liked receiving penises, so all his other friends and acquaintances that worked on farms or on whalers began sending animal penises to him.

"Hello? Yes, this is penis."

Eventually, Sigour's collection accounted for hundreds of animal penises, and had even spread to include kitchen implements and other everyday appliances that resembled penises.  Things like a penis phone, penis spoons, penis forks, and others.  It even ventures into the mythological: you can find troll penises, elf penises, and ghost penises (they're all invisible).

I don't even know...

The most interesting exhibit involves the human penis.  Now, there has been a donation made posthumously by a very old Icelandic gentleman, but the most odd by far is the "Elmo" exhibit.  Apparently, there's a future donor in the US who believes that his member is a separate entity from him.  His member is named "Elmo" and, this man believes that "Elmo" is fated to become the most famous penis in the world.  While he hasn't donated Elmo yet, he has sent along a letter of intended donation, along with pictures of Elmo dressed up as Santa Claus and Abraham Lincoln.

In the third paragraph, he states his intent to have Elmo removed while he is still alive.  You read that right.

Yep.

Iceland is an interesting place.

Dungeness Crab Quiche

Quiche is a food that I particularly enjoy for breakfast and brunch (actually, any meal really), and it's something that allows you the advantage of being able to make a day or two ahead of time.  Crab quiche is one of my favorites, and I love the interplay between the sweet crab meat, the salty savoriness of the gruyere, and the madeira.  The addition of green onion and red bell pepper makes for some nice color contrast in the final quiche product.

Ingredients:

One third to one half pound Dungeness crab meat

One half red bell pepper, chopped

One half shallot, finely chopped

Three tablespoons chopped green onion

Two small cloves chopped garlic

One half cup shredded gruyere

Three eggs

One cup heavy whipping cream

One tablespoon tomato paste

Some Madeira cooking wine

Butter

Pastry crust (I use Julia Child's quiche crust recipe)

1.  Cook the green onion, garlic, pepper, and shallot in butter for several minutes on medium high heat.

2.  Add crab meat and 1/4 cup Madeira wine.  Cook for 3 minutes.

3. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, heavy cream, and tomato paste.

4.  Add crab meat mixture into cream/egg liquid.  Whisk together.

5.  Add salt, pepper, and ~1/3 of the gruyere to the mixture.

6.  Pour into half-baked quiche crust and bake at 375 for 25 minutes.

7.  At 25 min mark, remove quiche from oven and top with gruyere.  Put back in oven and back for another 10-15 minutes, until crust and topping is browned.

The finished product.  Allow ample time to cool after removing.  Then, enjoy!

Encounters with Shark-Jello in Reykjavik

One of the first things that stands out about Iceland is the quality of its food.  The seafood, lamb, and even staples like pizza, are superior.  But, then, it figures that when everything is 30-50% more expensive than anywhere else, it would need to be.

One of the most well-known dishes from Iceland is hakarl.  To the uninitiated, hakarl is the meat of the Greenland shark.  The shark meat is normally toxic, however, centuries ago the Icelanders discovered that if you buried the carcass of the shark in the sand for a very long time, allowed it to go through several cycles of freezing and thawing, along with decomposing, and then you cut the meat into strips and let it hang dry for a long time, you got something that was almost an approximation of food.  Once you scraped the crust off the dried meat.

Now, as a fan of many of the food/travel shows like No Reservations and Bizarre Foods, hakarl was something that I knew I wanted to try and it was one of the first things I sought out.  It didn't take long to find a place that served it (with a view, no less!).  And so, it was at the Cafe Loki, in the same square as the famous Hallgrimskirkja, that I settled in to attempt a dish that had caused Gordon Ramsay to vomit and Anthonny Bourdain described as "the single worst, most disgusting and terrible tasting thing" he had ever eaten.

I was excited.

Now, I hadn't just ordered the hakarl (because that would be crazy).  Instead, I had coming to me a plate of dried cod with butter, smoked trout, lamb, and a mashed fish.  And, in the center, were the tiny innocuous cubes that had brought down other veteran eaters.

I had decided to save the hakarl for last, so that I could at the least enjoy everything else on the plate without a (potentially terrible) taste in my mouth.  The dried cod and butter was delicious, while the mashed fish, smoked trout, and the lamb were some of the best I've ever had in my life.  The lamb, in particular, was beyond incredible and, apparently, Icelandic lamb is incredibly well regarded as they are said to spend their entire lives wandering the pristine Icelandic landscape while dining on grasses and herbs. 

At any rate, I finished everything around the hakarl, while those little morsels of meat sat there taunting me with there ammmoniated smell and their gelatinous look.  They sat there, smug and proud, daring me to have a go at them.  And so, with nothing else on my plate and a second beer fresh in hand, I picked up my toothpick and faced down my adversary.

A close-up of my adversary.

It wasn't as bad as rumor would have you believe.  Was it at all appetizing?  Not really.  Texture-wise, it could best be described as an unnaturally firm meat-jello.  With a fairly strong ammonia smell, and both a faint ammonia and fishy taste, it was odd.  I did finish it all, with no hesitation beyond taking the first bite, and I would recommend giving it a shot the next time you have the opportunity.  It's quite popular over there, and you can find it in grocery stores (in tiny vaccuum sealed freezer bags) and even in thee airport gift shop.

Iceland - First Impressions

Iceland is best described as an incredibly clean, but almost alien, curiosity.  The thing that struck me most as a native Pacific Northwesterner in first arriving was the complete lack of trees.  Iceland is a blasted country, with sparse grass, volcanoes everywhere, windswept rocky plains, jagged icy mountains, and the cleanest air and ocean views you'll probably ever see in your life.  In so many ways, it gives a feeling deep in your bones that this is a place where you could have found trolls and dwarves and other mythological creatures from days gone by.

My arrival into Iceland was uneventful.  Aside from marveling at how small the airport was (it's about the same size as you'd expect for some place like Billings, Montana or another small US city), dealing with a short wait for the hourly bus from the airport into Reykjavik, and going through gift shops that carried such things as frozen fermented shark meat and whale meat, not much happened.

Reykjavik itself was tiny and again incredibly clean and fresh.  It was relaxing being in a major city where the environment was so pristine.  It also reminded me very much of Seattle in a way.

Arriving at the bus terminal, I had another wait for a smaller charter-type bus to get to my hostel.  Attached to the bus terminal was a cafe offering some traditional Icelandic food, as well as more standardized fare.  The most interesting item on their menu was a baked sheeps head (eyeballs included -- oh yes!), which I unfortunately did not have time to order, as my bus into the city was due in half an hour.  But, some day, I will return to that bus station cafe to savor the sheeps head.  Because "bus station sheeps head" sounds like the ultimate in deliciousness.

                                                                       Yum!

My hostel was KEX hostel, which I mainly mention because I found it to be a fantastic hostel/bar/restaurant combo near the waterfront, with the bonus that it was built in what had been an old biscuit factory.  Also sharing space in the old factory were multiple community art spaces that hostel residents could explore for free or at a discount.

The Hostel/Restaurant Waiting Room

 

A small, random, barber's room right off the hostel lobby.

After settling in (meaning, I threw my backpack on my bed and said a quick hello to the other people in the room), I set out to find something to eat and look around.

Backstory and Bon Voyage

I intend this first series of post to be a bit of catchup.  There have been a number of changes that have occurred in my life over the course of the past year and I intend to document them.  There will be posts on more recent events as well, but, for now, I intend to record the past.  We'll start with my trip last year to Iceland.

But first, some backstory:

2011 was an interesting year.  The first half of which was filled with some generally unhappy circumstances that culminated in the breakup of a 5 year relationship (on my birthday, no less, though it had been a long time coming), while the second half was filled with a number of interesting life stories as I approached my newfound singledom in my typical fashion -- meaning, I took a slightly sarcastic, cheeky, I-don't-give-a-damn approach. 

What do I mean by that?  Well, I entered singledom determined to generally enjoy myself and set about meeting new people and, in some senses, making up for lost time.  I met a number of interesting people both online (yay, OKC) and offline, some of whom I am convinced were generally psychotic, and came out of it with some interesting stories.  To possibly be covered later: a crazy/poly/bdsm'y Microsoft manager, a heavily tattooed (though she kept them well-hidden) stockbroker that likely has run off and joined a punk band by now (be careful when picking up people at bus stops), someone (my apologies for forgetting your name) met by criticizing their book on a late-night busride and then turning that into a late night happy hour date, and other such fun things as going tail-crazy at a posh Halloween bash and finding myself the center of attention of a group of Brazilian exchange students... as well as some late 30's and early 40-something cougars.  That last one was a nice confidence booster, as to be expected when you're told about a dozen different times that you're exceptionally well-dressed.

Anyways, continuing on...

I hit early 2012 and decided to do something more selfish.  I don't mean selfish in the sense that I'm taking away from someone else or not sharing, I mean selfish in the sense that I'm doing something purely for myself.  With that resolution reached, it took me about an hour or two of looking at airline tickets to decide I was going to celebrate my birthday in Iceland and then journey overland from Denmark to Belgium.  Because, honestly, what better way to ring in 28?

Once I had booked my tickets, life seemed to proceed as a whirlwind.  I was training for a half-marathon, busting my ass at work, going to my good friend Melissa's dinner parties and late night drunken youtube events, and generally getting things in line for my trip.

June was to be a pivotal point in my life, and I realize that especially now as I look back on things.  Not only was I preparing for a long race and a fantastic trip, but I had also started messaging with a very intriguing woman over OkCupid.  She had me more excited about meeting someone new than I had been for a long time.  For one, the was the obvious reason that she was very attractive.  As well, we had a number of interests in common, including: travel, writing, cooking, and enjoying other slightly 'hipster' things about our Ballard neighborhood.  Things seemed promising.

My first date with Laura took place at the Gerald and, while it was a nice date, it is one we both remember differently.  Laura, for instance, seems to be surprised that I even continued to be interested with her, as all she can recall is that she spent most of the time bitching/venting about some real estate issues she was experiencing with her home in California.  She also doesn't recall me being that overtly interested in her.  I, on the other hand, found her seriously charming and could not take my eyes off her cleavage (though I suppose the fact that she doesn't recall me overtly checking her out is a testament to some stealth-creeping powers I might have.. maybe...?).

It was a nice date, though at the end I forgot to ask for her number... on some occasions, exceptionally gorgeous women leave me tongue-tied.  She was also surprised I did not go for a kiss, but, to be honest, kissing isn't something I always go for on the first date.  Besides, she was stunningly attractive and she still gives me butterflies, though we've been dating for more than a year now.  I made up for all this on the second date, which was to follow about a month later due to overlapping trips we both were taking.

Thus, after a year of ups, downs, twists and turns of crazy, I found myself at a bar at Seatac Airport, ready to board a plane to Iceland.  Oh June, you were a month to remember.