They’re Blueberries… You’re from the States!

When visiting Iceland, most people come expecting two things: unbelievable scenery and outrageously high prices.

What we didn’t expect was just how incredible the food would be.

Day after day we enjoyed meals cooked to perfection. Farm-to-table restaurants where sheep grazed just outside the windows. Buffets filled with local cheeses, smoked meats, fresh-baked breads, and homemade desserts. Soups, salads, pizzas, and even simple side dishes prepared with a level of care that continually surprised us.

We ate some of the best meals we’ve ever had during our twelve days in Iceland.

But one dinner stood above the rest.

Ironically, it came on the drive back from Dalvík to Varmahlíð after our unforgettable day on Grímsey Island.

That meal was at Eyri, a small restaurant in the fishing village of Hjalteyri.

One surprising thing we learned about Iceland was how many people travel there not only to visit but also to work for a summer—or sometimes permanently. Eyri ended up becoming the perfect example of that.

By the time we left Grímsey and returned on the ferry, it was later than we had planned. We searched for a place to eat, only to discover that nearly every restaurant in Dalvík had already closed. We had almost resigned ourselves to driving all the way to Akureyri before noticing that the tiny village of Hjalteyri still had one restaurant open.

We’re incredibly grateful that it did.

Isaiah, our host and waiter, greeted us warmly and seated us at a corner table overlooking Eyjafjörður, Iceland’s longest fjord. The restaurant was quiet, peaceful, and before long the only other table had left, giving us Isaiah’s full attention for most of the evening.

We started with smoked lamb, salads, and soups before moving on to our main courses. Every bite was exceptional. The carrots were better than the potatoes. The cod was tender, flaky, and perfectly prepared. I honestly found myself amazed that something as simple as roasted vegetables could taste so good.

Then we learned why.

The dessert at Eyri Restaurant, sans already eaten orange berry

Chef Craig, the owner, had previously earned a Michelin star in Geneva and had even trained under Gordon Ramsay. Nearly every ingredient was sourced or grown locally.

As the evening continued, Isaiah shared that he had moved to Iceland from Namibia because the pay was excellent and it gave him long stretches of free time to travel. When he learned that Namibia was already part of our Epic Travel Plan a few years down the road, the conversation became even more enjoyable. We spent the next hour talking about Iceland, Namibia, travel, work, and life.

After dinner we ordered brownies, and Chef Craig walked out of the kitchen carrying them himself.

Each brownie was topped with fresh blueberries and one small orange berry.

Brock pointed to the orange berry and asked what it was.

Craig glanced at the plate, noticed the blueberries surrounding it, and apparently assumed Brock was asking about those instead.

With a wonderfully incredulous look and a thick British accent, he smiled and said,

“They’re blueberries… you’re from the States.”

For a second we all just looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

Brock had been asking about the lone orange berry all along, while Craig couldn’t believe an American wouldn’t recognize blueberries. The misunderstanding was hilarious, and the way Craig delivered the line made it unforgettable. He reminded me so much of Charlie from Lost that I still hear it in his voice whenever I think back on that evening.

Looking back, I don’t remember every ingredient on every plate. I remember Isaiah pulling up a chair to tell us about growing up in Namibia. I remember Chef Craig stepping out of the kitchen to spend time talking with us. I remember Brock innocently asking about one little orange berry, Craig’s bewildered response, and the laughter that followed. Somewhere during that evening, dinner stopped being about food. It became about people.

Before visiting Iceland, we expected unbelievable scenery and outrageously high prices. We never imagined we’d come home talking about the meals—or more importantly, the people we shared them with. The glaciers, waterfalls, and volcanoes gave us every reason to visit Iceland. Isaiah, Chef Craig, and one unforgettable conversation over brownies reminded us that the most memorable moments of travel are often created not by the places you go, but by the people you meet along the way.