Reykjavik Edition: Twenty bucks a course

Even with the Icelandic krona trading for about 10% less against the dollar than it did a month ago, Reykjavik has to be the most expensive city I've ever visited. Think about how much more expensive things in Hawaii are compared to California. Now think of Iceland as the Hawaii of Scandinavia. The prices would make even a Tokyo native blush.

As a rule of thumb, food in Reykjavik cost about twice what it would cost in Manhattan--Midtown Manhattan, that is. But even in Reykjavik, where a half-hour cab ride to the airport costs about $140, I managed to find a few standout courses that, if not entirely affordable, at least kept me from having to go to the local (surprisingly popular) Subway branch.

My favorite spot was Sægreifinn, a shanty on the water in the city center. Here, you'll find three long tables arranged cafeteria-style, with a counter where you can order lobster soup (about $10), or kebabs made with scallops (about $20), whale ($14), or potato ($2--whew!). The minke whale, cooked medium rare, had the taste and texture of about two parts steak and one part liver (unlike the puffin I had the night before, which was more like half steak, half liver); the scallops were freakishly large, and not worth it when considering the fact that you could get an equal portion of lobster for the same price. The lobster, mind you, was some of the best I've ever had. It was nicely grilled, with plenty of garlic sprinkled for good measure, but pleasantly rare in the center--making it just sweet and melty, like the flavor of a good raw shrimp or squid. But the lobster soup is what stole the show. Creamy, salty, and fishy at the same time, the whole thing reminded me of a lighter version of bisque, but with plenty of nice lobster chunks inside. It's easy to imagine a grizzled Icelandic sailor stepping in from the bitter cold for a hot bowl of this soup.

Lobster soup and minke whale at Sægreifinn

Later at night, I hit up Nonnabiti for a Lambabátur (lamb sandwich, about $15) that was nearly magical. Served with a creamy "special sauce" (who knows?), lettuce, dried onions (maybe) and pickles, the lamb is sliced paper-thin, and cooked to crisp up around its edges. The crisping is critical, as it gives the lamb meat a bacon-y texture that ... well, is bacon-y. And who can argue with that?

Apparently, there is a Nonnabiti vs. Hlölla-Bátar rivalry in Reykjavik that is not unlike the Pat's vs. Geno's controversy in Philadelphia. I'm sorry to say that I can't report on the difference, as the choice was made easy for me: you have to order your Hlölla-Bátar sandwiches outdoors. At least that gives me an excuse to return to Reykjavik in the summer.

Sægreifinn
Geirsgata 8, 101 Reykjavík
Tel. +354 553 1500

Nonnabiti
Hafnarstræti 11, 101 Reykjavík
Tel. +354 551 2312

Zhou 'nuff

Every time I get back to New York on the Chinatown bus, I can't help but wonder what goes on behind so many of those storefronts east of Chrystie Street. A part of me that reasons that they're so dingy, uninviting, and completely oblivious to non-Chinese speakers, that there has to be something incredibly authentic about the restaurants there. The most I know about the majority of these joints is that they're likely to be Fu Zhou; and that's not exactly an area of food that I've spent a lot of time exploring.

Luckily, a good friend of mine who speaks some pretty decent Mandarin works at a courthouse nearby, and was enthusiastic about taking me to an out-of-the-way spot that served up the full East Chinatown experience.

It began even before we walked into Best Fuzhou Restaurant. What I thought was the restaurant turned out to be a makeshift hardware store; next door was our intended destination -- so out-of-the-way that I initially missed it even with the street address in my hand. When we did walk in, we were hit with a smell that was neither good nor bad, but was unequivocably, ineffably China.

Neither the waitstaff nor the kitchen staff spoke any amount of English that would be helpful to a novice; even the menu was entirely in Chinese. With my fearless interpreter to guide me, however, we were able to order up some lychee rou ($7, number 122 on the menu) and some yu ren ($3, number 2 on the menu), as well as a non-Fu Zhou pork dish ($8) that was off the menu, but apparently something of a national favorite.

The lychee rou is a bit like sweet and sour pork with potatoes, green peppers, and carrots, although the sweetness is definitely dialed down, as is the sour; it's more of a savory and tangy, and certainly a step up from the old Chinese-American staple (though I will happily admit that I'm very much a sucker for a good sweet and sour pork). There is also no lychee in it -- it's just that the port has a vaguely testicle-y shape that also resembles lychee. I guess the folks who first came up with it decided that lychee was a better marketing angle than testicle. Fans of Cheburechnaya, however, might beg to differ.

The yu ren is an order of 10 fish balls in a light, tangy broth. The fish balls are roughly the size of golf balls, and function as a dumpling stuffed with a small amount of pork (as you can see, there was a common theme to or order). This was definitely one of my favorite food finds in the last few months, as the richness of the pork was a good balance to the brininess of the fish. I was also very happy at how light the broth was, and what a good finish it had. This could easily be big enough for a moderate meal, and has to be one of the best food values in the city.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid I can't offer much insight into the last pork dish. However, I certainly plan on going back to Best Fuzhou, so I imagine there will be more pork offerings in the future. Incidentally, although Fu Zhou food often involves seafood, the fish tanks at the restaurant didn't inspire the most amount of confidence; that being said, I've never been a fan of fish tanks in the first place, and I'm reasonably confident that whatever they have in the kitchen came from a fairly reliable source.

Best Fuzhou Restaurant
68 Forsyth St. at Hester (map)
(212) 219-9933

Note: Menu says they are open until 2 a.m.