Norð Austur Sushi & Bar

For a young country still discovering global cuisine, a summer-only, expressly Japanese restaurant focused on fresh, local ingredients is more than a gamble. To tuck it away in Seyðisfjörður, a picturesque fjord town, not often on the traveler trail edges on the insane. But Norð Austur does just that and does it well. Kimono and Japanese screen prints adorn the walls, and large windows frame picturesque views of the fjord and dollhouse-like timber homes.

The restaurant is, to use the clichéd phrase, cute as a button. Pickled daikon wears a briny cloak, the sneaky use of uni extends their delicate aroma for a lasting impression and a promising start. A crisp Akashi-Tai Junmai Ginjo sparkling sake is an unusual convention to pair with glistening slices of impeccably fresh sashimi—the arctic char and salmon are especially velvety, and the pairing successful. The miso soup that follows screams ascetic.

Cloudy wisps of miso naturally seem to urge contemplation and gratitude for this warmth while the comings of a storm, common to these parts, rages outside. The name Norð Austur, like the north-easterly winds is fitting. Lest you be withdrawn, the chef may surprise you with a generous platter of prized salmon toro, the real treat, however, is the opportunity to cook it yourself on blistering hot volcanic rocks. With a smidgen of grated fresh ginger, a dab of locally grown wasabi, a light paddle through a zippy ponzu sauce, the resulting meld of fat, flavor and fun is a moment to revel in.

In case you forget you’re in Iceland, the nigiri is an all-out ode to the stellar seafood. Shime sabi made in-house, are from the Westfjords, the opalescent rock shrimp from waters close by, the lightly torched halibut from Greenlandic waters, the river trout smoked to a grapefruit brightness. No lackluster frozen tuna here. A carefully rolled langoustine temaki tumbles with roe and slightly warm rice seemingly held only by flavor.

The waltz between each course might set purist tongues wagging in that the chef relies on the interplay of temperature and texture against the traditional diktat of lighter dishes segueing to heavier ones in a traditional omakase. Chef Keith Isamu Preston‘s engaging break with custom gently reminds us that this is Japanese fare fashioned in, and for, Iceland. Published, October 2019.