So it’s not a big secret that food and travel go hand in hand. One of my favourite things about traveling is eating all sorts of great, unusual and delicious foods. I really will try anything and rarely will I dislike something. I can embrace the bizarre when it comes to my appetite, and after all, travel many times is just that- bizarre. It is also probably why I always come back 10 pounds heavier.
With that said and I will continue to say this, I love many things about Iceland; the people, the culture, the sights, the ponies- all of it. However there is one thing I did not love…. The food. It pains me to say it, but bleh.
Okay, it wasn’t all bad, there were even some things that were great (Icelandic Hot Dogs). However there is one item that still gives me shivers thinking about it.
I will not name and shame this restaurant. It was a lovely restaurant- great atmosphere, wonderful menu (on paper) and overall got great reviews. I ordered the duck with caramelized onions and sweet potato fries. I love duck, I love onions, I love sweet potatoes- how could you possibly go wrong. And for that matter- that wasn’t even some scary meal, it was just meant to be a delicious fancy meal in Iceland. It’s not as if I had the bread with cottage cheese and dried fish like some restaurants offered.
Well it was a special meal- that’s for sure. My meal will be burned in my memory forever, and may be the topic of many future conversations when sharing some of my travel stories.
I don’t quite know how to describe it. It was as though my duck leg was fermented. It kind of tasted as though it was marinating in something for a few months, then eventually slow baked in the marinade, and then fried for good measure. I was a champ though. I took 4 bites and swallowed them. Beyond that, I feel as though it was a half on half mixture of my fear of getting food poisoning and the smell of the duck that was surrounding me that stopped me from forcing down more. That and the laughter from the situation didn’t help. Basically this one meal completely put me off food for the remainder of the trip.
I understand this seems all too dramatic for a simple duck. But I shocked myself. I don’t hate anything. Or at best I can tolerate anything. But I hated this duck- it was hard on me…I love duck… I love food. I suppose it wouldn’t be normal to like everything put in front of you. But there you have it, my Icelandic duck is where I drew the line.
On the Brightside, there seems to be a new game of “Would your rater ________, or eat that duck?” Poor little duck always loses.
Travel always comes down to the stories and the experiences. Good, bad and sometimes all too tragic you just can’t help but laugh and sometimes the main character is a duck leg. My duck will always be something I laugh at.