The top floor restaurant Grillið is listed in the category Very Fine Level dining experience. Mímir Restaurant made is as a newcomer to the market in the category Fine Level, this less than one year after its opening.
“We are extremely proud of these recognitions and we are very thankful to our team-members. Their dedication, expertise and passion made this possible”, comments Ingibjörg Ólafsdóttir, General Manager at Radisson Blu Saga Hotel Reykjavik, Iceland.
Radisson Blu Saga Hotel is owned by the Farmers association of Iceland and is strongly linked to agriculture in the public’s mind. The menus and cuisines are designed with reference to modern, Icelandic culinary traditions and are intended to impress the guests by the fact that they are enjoying the best that Icelandic farmers and manufactures have to offer.
The White Guide features about 200 restaurants in Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden, including Faroe Islands, Greenland and Svalbard. Fourteen restaurants from Iceland are listed and two of them (1/7 part) are operated by Radisson Blu Saga Hotel. The 2019-20 edition of the guide will also feature more than 140 hotels, bars and cafés to cater to the growing gastrotourism to the region in its full seasonal bloom.
Below are the reviews about the two restaurants from The White Guide 2019:
VERY FINE LEVEL: Grillið at Radisson BLU Saga Hotel, Reykjavík Iceland
Winning bites with a bird’s eye view
The elevator doors open with a gentle ping to arresting views of Reykjavik; a 360° expanse of city, sky and ocean, as if Grillið had no walls, the soaring seagulls fly so close, you can spot the catches in their beaks.
You’ll certainly have the sunchoke with a milky chicken liver mousse and bilberries, the tuber fashioned into a shatteringly crisp tuille, the crowning adornment of purple wood sorrel, like butterflies. Next you’ll receive a child’s palm sized bowl of fish roe. Set atop an unfurled blanket of seabuckthorn leather, the ruffled edges are tucked in with mini marigold buds. A warm mother-of-pearl spoon to break through the tension reveals creamy arctic char underneath. Eaten together, it’s an exquisite display of heady flavors.
Too often, fine dining can leave one with an amorphous ‘experience’ bolstered by the service and staff. But here at Grillið, the food plays the starring role, as it should. Chef Sigurður Laufdal has worked both at Geranium in Copenhagen and OLO in Helsinki. He brings an assured fragility to what could otherwise have been an overworked bag of tricks. The food is playful, inviting you to pick things up, peer under, poke over. To do so with abandonment in a fine dining establishment has an undercurrent of forbidden joy. Even in their bite-sized avatars, the kitchen manages to distill singular flavors from ingredients, all the while elevating them to edible works of art. This is food that is worth looking at and eating as well. The stream of snacks resumes its cutlery-free narrative with the potato bread. Tearing the warm fried bread leads one to an interesting fix––whether to swirl it into a well of garlic velouté, or schmear it with umami rich cep butter. The attention to detail is heartening; there are warm towels to finish, an adult reminder.
Elaborate crockery jostles for attention, sometimes upstaging the food, specifically the main courses. A butter poached cod is a tad rubbery and a grilled pork belly uncharacteristically staid. But desserts recast the spell. A tempered-to-order orb of chocolate sits atop a perfectly trimmed rose. One swift bite and you’re awash with the alluring scent of rose, chocolate and a heart of caramel. Wine pairings are acceptable and there are a slew of home-brewed kombuchas and juices for the teetotallers.
The elevator doors open with a gentle ping to arresting views of Reykjavik; a 360° expanse of city, sky and ocean, as if Grillið had no walls, the soaring seagulls fly so close, you can spot the catches in their beaks.
You’ll certainly have the sunchoke with a milky chicken liver mousse and bilberries, the tuber fashioned into a shatteringly crisp tuille, the crowning adornment of purple wood sorrel, like butterflies. Next you’ll receive a child’s palm sized bowl of fish roe. Set atop an unfurled blanket of sea buckthorn leather, the ruffled edges are tucked in with mini marigold buds. A warm mother-of-pearl spoon to break through the tension reveals creamy arctic char underneath. Eaten together, it’s an exquisite display of heady flavors.
Too often, fine dining can leave one with an amorphous ‘experience’ bolstered by the service and staff. But here at Grillið, the food plays the starring role, as it should. Chef Sigurður Laufdal has worked both at Geranium in Copenhagen and OLO in Helsinki. He brings an assured fragility to what could otherwise have been an overworked bag of tricks. The food is playful, inviting you to pick things up, peer under, poke over. To do so with abandonment in a fine dining establishment has an undercurrent of forbidden joy. Even in their bite-sized avatars, the kitchen manages to distill singular flavors from ingredients, all the while elevating them to edible works of art. This is food that is worth looking at and eating as well. The stream of snacks resumes its cutlery-free narrative with the potato bread. Tearing the warm fried bread leads one to an interesting fix––whether to swirl it into a well of garlic velouté, or schmear it with umami rich cep butter. The attention to detail is heartening; there are warm towels to finish, an adult reminder.
Elaborate crockery jostles for attention, sometimes upstaging the food, specifically the main courses. A butter poached cod is a tad rubbery and a grilled pork belly uncharacteristically staid. But desserts recast the spell. A tempered-to-order orb of chocolate sits atop a perfectly trimmed rose. One swift bite and you’re awash with the alluring scent of rose, chocolate and a heart of caramel. Wine pairings are acceptable and there are a slew of home-brewed kombuchas and juices for the teetotallers.
Published, White Guide October 2019
FINE LEVEL: Mímir Restaurant at Radisson BLU Saga Hotel, Reykjavík, Iceland
More than a hotel restaurant
To say that Hotel Saga is a Reykjavik institution would be an understatement. Births, weddings and wakes continue to be celebrated with as much grace and gusto today, as they did when the Farmer’s Association of Iceland first started this hotel 57 years ago. Home to Grillið, the city’s fine-dining destination, it’s the recently renovated restaurant Mímir, named after the popular Mimisbar in the hotel lobby that has been the talk of the town with their attractively priced lunch and dinner menus.
The dining space is sumptuous, the color saturated Arne Jacobsen-esque furniture is likely bespoke. The soft corals, taupes and blues spell luxury and the gold speckled open kitchen is an ocean of calm, with the chefs quietly working behind their counters.
Endorsed by the farmers, the menu justly centers around the local bounty of land and sea, with Icelandic staples presented in a notably contemporary fashion. No dish embodies this spirit better than the hotdog. An icon of Icelandic cuisine, the humble ‘pylsu með öllu’, which is sausage with everything in Icelandic, is reimagined here to suit its finer environs. Eschewing damp buns for Icelandic waffles, the snappy lamb sausage is right at home on its bed of red potato salad; its creaminess a comforting contrast to the generously scattered pickles. No Icelandic dog is complete without onions, and here they are a trio of texture––fresh, pickled and fried to a crunch.
Each dish is cause for pause with its picturesque plating. The graflax is exquisite, shunning thin slivers of salmon for generously thick slices, the salmon’s velvety tenderness asserts itself amongst spheres of dill-oil soaked cucumber and pickled mustard. A Maison Chavy Chouet Aligote 2015 lifts the dish further with its bright acidity. Char-grilled plaice is thoughtfully offered in both half and full portions, allowing one to try multiple dishes. Young chefs Denis Grbic and Snædís Xyza Mae Jónsdóttir Ocampo are aided by the attentive yet discreet service.
Lamb saddle and rib-eye are competently cooked, but the protein is often overshadowed by the kitchen’s love affair with vegetables, especially the potato. And this not at all a bad thing. Mashed potatoes served with the plaice, would make Jacque Pepin proud with their potato to butter ratio. The ‘smelki’ potatoes are lightly smashed baby potatoes with crunchy fried exteriors that give way to custardy softness. The roasted cauliflower head is crowned with crunchy red quinoa, and coral hued sea buckthorn berries. The latter’s citrusy tartness is a welcome foil for the buttery brassica. But one should exercise restraint, for the desserts beg for glee abandon as well. Brown whey cheese and yoghurt ice cream are brightened with basil, and the warm rhubarb cake is a perfect end to a memorable meal.
Published, White Guide October 2019
