Hello, Sunday.

Doesn’t he just look like the happiest gnome?  I do love gnomes. I got myself a gnome statue in Iceland and named him Stu. He just looks like a Stu.

It’s been a busy week but I finally, finally, feel like I’m myself again.  Jet lag is long gone as well as that pesky cold, and I feel like being social again rather than hiding away under a blanket on the couch.   And the kitchen dance parties have resumed.  All is well.

Productivity this weekend was off the charts and by the time you read this, my laundry is done, my house is clean and most of my food is cooked for the week.  High five to me, it’s time to play. It’s football season, after all.

Let’s go, Buffalo.  Squish the fish.

Before that gets going, let’s tuck in an talk about the somethings I found this week.

People can be horrible, but at least we get celebrity mean tweets out of it.

Related:  Raising the price of a drug 500% (FIVE HUNDRED PERCENT) is just an @$$hole move.

Science, ya’ll.  Why we crave certain foods.  Because chocolate chip cookies and Doritos are a biological imperative.  

More science, ya’ll. Because science is fun.  Four ways to be happy. Only four! Let’s get to it.  And now we can justify those massages.

Fun fact: I wear a dress almost every single day because I hate wearing pants.  Which means that waist training will never, ever be a thing for me. Nor should it for you.  

Someone got fired. Perhaps not the smartest thing to use the Nazi symbol for Yom Kippur.

Some take Nutella very seriously. Perhaps too seriously.  

Culture clash.  Permitting sexual abuse for the sake of international relations.  A hard look, and a difficult read.

TV things; Scandal is back, and after the premiere, I’m still #TeamJake.  Related- do you get attached to characters enough that you cry when they’re killed off?  The saddest TV deaths.  Definitely bawled my eyes out over Alan Birch, Mark Greene, Fred Berkle, Lance Sweets, and Finn Hudson.

Finally, a toxic work world.  Will it really ever change?  I dearly hope so.

Have a good week!

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Now that I’ve told you what I saw and did in Reykjavik, let’s talk about what I ate. Because that is just as (or more….depending on your point of view) important.

Despite knowing that poor planning in this area could potentially lead to disastrous ends, I didn’t do a whole lot of research on food before this trip. In my ignorant mind, there were three things to eat:  whale, puffin and fermented shark.  Weird, but there it was, my meager to-do list.  I’m not typically squeamish when it comes to food and I’m willing to try anything once, so as unconventional as those choices might be, I was ready.

Whilst on our city tour, Martinn took the opportunity to point out that those aren’t really traditional Icelandic dishes and schooled us on what Icelanders really eat.  In fact, he himself had never had puffin and said that fermented shark tasted like the most rotten cheese.  And with that, there went two-thirds of my list.  Long live the puffins.

The whale, on the other hand, comes with an interesting story. Apparently whale poaching is internationally outlawed, and Iceland downright refuses to oblige due to the lucrative export of whale meat to Japan.  The ban is prompted by the inhumane ways that whales are killed- spear to the head, subsequent bleed out.  Sounds pretty horrible to me.  And while Iceland continues to do as it pleases in regard to this practice, there is a movement to stop it.  Again, according to Martinn,  whale meat isn’t really something the locals eat at all, but it exists in restaurants mainly for tourists. Throughout the city, “whale friendly” signs were posted in various restaurants. Well, no need to kill whales on my behalf, so there went item #3.

Seems that the more traditional eats are horse meat- sweet, rich, super lean and soft– and lamb.  No horse meat consumed here, but I did eat the lamb on more than one occasion, and it was fantastic, but…different than here in the U.S.  While the flavor is similar to what we’d find back home, the texture and color reminded me more of the meat that comes off one of the smoked turkey legs you’d find at Disney or at a Renaissance fair. You know what I’m talking about.  Anyway, it was more pink than brown or red and was the most tender lamb you’d ever find.  The sheep did look extra happy as we drove through the countryside, maybe happy sheep = happy lamb?  Whatever they’re doing, they’re doing right.

Ok, lesson over.

With no list to guide our stomachs, Lettuce and I were at a loss on where exactly we were supposed to eat.  Lucky for us, our Air BnB apartment had a local restaurant guide, with links to menus and websites for ultimate menu stalking and informed decisions.  And on more than one occasion, it saved the day.  Here’s where and what we ate, most on or just off the main pedestrian street Laugavegur.  I strongly suggest you follow in our soggy footsteps. (more…)

Last, but certainly not least in my guest post lineup, is L, or as she’s known to some of us, “Justice.”  We met back in law school days and she always had such a “judicial” presence about her, throwing down ole’ Louisiana grandma wisdom and phrases in Judge Judy fashion that a nickname that was unflappable as she was seem apropos.  However, once we really got to know her, we realized she’s just as much of a mess as the rest of us, but the nickname stuck. Though I only lived in the same town as her for 1 ½ years (which, I can’t even believe), she was part of the epic European backpacking trip of 2005, one of my fellow Katrina refugees, and is a necessary voice in my daily email thread with H.  She’s always up for a relaxing spa vacation and a good hearty meal, and can out-eat any man, woman or child. Actually, a match-up between her stomach and D’s would be one that, I think, people would pay to see.  Without further ado, here’s L’s lessons from Lafayette on some Louisiana culture and an ode to her favorite shrimp po’boy.

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