First let me just say that it was incredibly difficult finding an Icelandic dish that I could a) find all the ingredients for and cook in my dorm and b) not spend a fortune on. A lot of fish is fermented to make it keep longer and one of the iconic dishes was rotten shark. Um, I don’t think I need to explain why I avoided these. Not to mention, aside from lamb, many of the meats they eat were a little out of reach, like seal and seabirds. So I turned to the dessert area and found that they have some custards and tarts along with seven-layer cakes. As much as I would have loved cooking a seven-layer cake, that just sounded like too much work on Labor Day weekend. So I went with a tart called sveskjuterta because it was easy enough to put together and I had most of the stuff already.
Now I try to be as impartial as possible when I first take a bite of any dish, you know chew it a little, try and pick up the flavors and textures, decide if it has an aftertaste, all that jazz. Having said that, let me say that this tort really tested my gag reflex. It’s official - I have found a dish I would never ever make again. It was bound to happen eventually. I can look on the bright side and at least be glad all I had to buy for this one was a half-cup of prunes.
First let me just say that if the world existed without mashed prunes, it would be a much happier place, a lot prettier too. I don’t know what’s worse, having to look at prunes after they’ve soaked in water overnight, smelling them as they cook, or being reminded of road kill once they’re mashed. I’ve spared you this image, but if you feel cheated just Google mashed prunes you’ll see what I’m taking about. Oh, so then once I had thoroughly mutilated the poor things, I realized that I would eventually have to stick them into a tart and eat it. Have I mentioned how much I’m expanding my horizons thorough this project? Because I MOST DEFINITELY expanded my horizons with this one. I think I managed to gross myself out before even taking a bite, which is never a good thing.
Second complaint I have with this, the “cream” mixture that goes on the bottom of the tart reminds me of tapioca pudding and not in a good way. It’s lumpy, it’s not very flavorful, and it smells a little like baby food, kind of cream of wheatish. I like cream of wheat though, this I did not like. Lastly, the one thing I thought that might pull this tart together and be a redeeming factor, the crust. For one, it takes vinegar, which is odd yes, but I was willing to see past that since it does contain quite a bit of butter. However, it is neither buttery or flaky and very much like cardboard. Forget cutting it nicely, it’s impossible. I should mention it also made my jaw ache with effort and was the blandest dough I’ve ever tasted. If anything I’ve learned that there is a reason Iceland is not famous for its torts.
The best thing about this dessert, the copious amounts of heavy cream I had to drown it in to eat it. Heavy cream that may I just say was leftover from the Gypsy’s arm. There’s also an aftertaste, yeah it haunts you even after you’ve finished it. Did I mention how long this recipe took for me to cook? An hour and a half, and I made a mini one! I’m sorry, I tried to be impartial and I didn’t even hesitate before taking a bite. Of course that’s probably because I wanted to get something out of all that work, but I have to say that this was just not good. Maybe if I were a toddler I would have a better appreciation for the mushy texture, but there is just nothing sophisticated about this, it’s not even that pretty. I’m really going to have to find an Icelandic dish I like to get this one from influencing my opinion of the place because right now I can’t even see the word Iceland without thinking about how dreadful this was. Let's just say I am glad to be moving onto to Africa.
