Kristín Pétursdóttir

In contrary to its namesake, it is rarely used for wedding celebrations. One can say that this is a comfort food that despite it being a very common one for: afternoon coffee break / welcoming visitors at home / a thank-you treat after lending help / something to go with the coffee at a café, etc., it always tugs at an Icelander’s heartstring whenever I ask about ones memories of this light brown, inconspicuous square piece of sweet heaven.

S: Can you explain what a hjónabandssæla is?

K: Hjónabandssælan… I do not know where the name comes from, but some say that happy marriage cake, if [it] is good then the husband is happy and all this, oh I do not know…

My explanation for hjónabandssæla is that, it is somehow never the same, and it just depends on the egg, and it depends on the butter, how much you melt the butter, and how long you stir, and so on. [It]’s never the same, but [it]’s always so good. And I think it's just like marriage, it's never the same. [There are ups and downs], but always stable, most of the time. The basis is the same. You just have to learn to do it right. That's my explanation. I find the other [explanation] too masculine…

We asked Kristín Pétursdóttir, who is known for her special hjónabandssæla. It all began when she started a homey 5-room guesthouse, Litlabýli, in Flateyri. She bakes and serves the cake as breakfast for her guests. The cake speaks for itself and words spread quickly.

“It was just a demand of guests who wanted to buy a cake to take home, or get the recipe and bake at home, and some people got the complete recipe and have sent me pictures when they bake at home, but it somehow failed… so then this idea just came up, how can you bring this blissful marriage for sale? And as so often, it's really good to sit down with friends and think about what can be done, and then solutions often come… Just put the mix in a bag and the jam with it.”

To say that mixing all the ingredients into a bag for sale is to over-simplify the process and what makes it so special. It is a union of a couple of family recipes, red rhubarb grown in a special place with a unique soil mixture, the care and testing in each step of developing the happy marriage cake kit and Kristín’s resilience.

“The rhubarb is from Ingjaldssandur. And the recipe for the rhubarb jam is from my mother. The recipe for the hjónabandssæla comes from her father’s wife… so there, these two forces combine and then this delicacy is created. Cake.”

And so the idea of having a cake-making kit was born. Through a project called Westfjord Food, a project initiated by Vestfjarðarstofa (the Westfjords Regional Development Office), the kit further developed. “Somehow it just started to get out of hand, and has been going crazy ever since. So, yes, this is going on all over the world. And the whole country.” She adds.

In mid-June, Kristín harvests vínarabarbari — a type of rhubarb seen as sweeter and more tender than the regular green-stemmed rhubarb. She uses them to make the jam for the cake. Kristín believes that her rhubarb has a special taste because the garden is located next to a smoke hut.

“There were smoked pylsur (sausages) and hangikjöt (cold-smoked salted lamb leg or shoulder) and all kinds of tasty yumminess, grásleppa (female lumpsucker fish)… and, or rauðmagi (male lumpsucker fish), maybe not grásleppa. And the ashes from the smoking were always spread over the garden so I think the taste of the rhubarb is unique because of it.”

Kristín grew up in Ingjaldssandur, a former settlement located at the mouth of an especially verdant, deep valley in western Westfjords. It shares the same fjord with Flateyri, but it is only connected to the main road through an adventurous 16km of gravel mountain road. The main mode of transport to get in and out of the village used to be by twice-weekly small planes or boats. The valley is usually blocked in by blankets of snow during winters. Eventually, all but one farmer moved away. The farmer who decided to stay as everyone packed up was Kristín’s mother—a local legendary woman, known to brave the winters alone with her sheep in the isolated valley.

We frequently gaze out of her kitchen window at the fjord. Two small boats are bobbing in the gentle waves. In the distant hills, we can hear two arctic foxes yapping.

“I feel a real privilege to have grown up on Ingjaldssandur, but it was natural, [back] then there were five settlements that were inhabited and there were scheduled flights twice a week and, [we] ordered from Kaupfélagið (community co-op store) and goods arrived… if you wanted something, it was ordered [and flown in] from Flateyri.

There was somehow, always had plenty to do, [I was] not bored. [I was] always just out with the animals, thinking about them, or something… Just yes, what a privilege, just to live with nature and endless walks, picnics, berry picking… all kinds of adventures. Making snow houses and snow horses and build something outside in a cabin and all sorts of fun. But there were not a lot of kids to play with. There was one boy. Sometimes there were kids in the summer, but I do not know, you somehow missed nothing. Maybe because you did not know anything or anything, I do not know. But it was just a lot of fun.”

It has always been Kristín´s dream to open a guesthouse. She thinks it started since she was a child, her natural curiosity about people. When summer tourism brought new faces, she would abandon everything to check out the visitors. Today, she thinks receiving guests who are traveling on their own is both a lot of fun and a rewarding experience for her.

“Somehow you also just re-experience your environment, and you learn to appreciate it better. What's everyday for you is just amazing for others and you realized it, just yeah this is absolutely amazing, and I'm incredibly lucky. And just like the Northern Lights experience, seeing people experience the Northern Lights, it gives you an incredible amount, when you experience the joy of others.”

S: What have been the biggest challenges, both in these product developments and also just running a guesthouse in such a small place?

K: I think the hardest part is getting started. It is perhaps, the idea is easy, and to dare to take the step, to start, and to have the resilience to continue when [it is necessary to] do some papers over and over again, and then always comes "no, that need this” or “you need to do this”… but, I think it's just to keep moving forward with it, do what you feel is right rather than what you’re being told, otherwise it will never be yours. If you strip everything away, you’ll find your way.

S: Is there something about Westfjords making you who you are, and how you think or how you live? Maybe this is how it has shaped you?

K: I think The Westfjords is very special, I think we are, without underestimating others, but then I think we are very hardworking and very resilient, I think the struggle for life has always just made us stronger, just like… or no maybe we should not be underestimating the other, maybe.

S: This is maybe more like this: the special thing about living in the Westfjords and running a business in the Westfjords compared to maybe elsewhere in larger places.

K: Yes, I think so, yes. I think it's just a great opportunity to run a tourism company in The Westfjords. Although it is not easy, because many people see the Westfjords as just inaccessible, especially during the winter. And it's just not like that at all, I think we need to correct this misconception that we're just stuck in a snowdrift all winter and in the dark. And that the roads are terrible, they are always recovering. And we live here and we love it. And I think we just need to introduce people to how great it is to be here, and I just think… and the resilience in the Westfjords teaches us that and moves us forward. I just think the turnaround over the last five years shows us that we are not giving up.