I Tracked Down Indonesian Food in Reykjavík Iceland

My first meal in Iceland was Indonesian food in Reykjavík— which, if you’ve ever been there, is pretty cool when you consider how remote the place feels, especially on first impression.

Now, I’d love to say it was a happy accident – that I stumbled upon an Indonesian restaurant in Reykjavík and it felt like a warm surprise from the universe. That would’ve made a great story.

But the truth? I more than planned it.

I don’t remember when or how it started, but at some point, eating Indonesian food while travelling became my thing. So, somewhere between the agony of audit season and the existential dread of exam prep, I decided that eating Indonesian food in Reykjavík would be an achievement. A foodie milestone. A badge of cultural comfort in a faraway land. (It’s not shocking, really – most of my bucket list has always been food oriented).

The (Re)Search Begins

So, before the trip, I did my research and discovered there was indeed an Indonesian restaurant in Reykjavík.

The thing is, knowing it exists and finding it were two very different things.

It was our first day in the city. Fresh off the airport bus, freshly checked into our hotel, we stepped out to explore. Reykjavík had a port-town vibe — large ships docked just steps from the hotel, a few fishing boats scattered along the water, and seafood restaurants lining the streets. We mentally bookmarked those just in case we couldn’t locate the Indo restaurant.

We then wandered past what looked like a row of fishing company garages. Eventually, Google Maps informed us we’d walked right past our destination. So we retraced our steps and found ourselves facing an empty-looking food court.

Indonesian food in a food court? That felt off. But we went in.

And there it was: Eldhús Iru (Ira’s Kitchen), with the same logo I’d seen online. A corner stall tucked among others serving Mexican, Indian, Japanese, Korean, and even Spanish food.

Reykjavík’s international food scene had already started to impress me.

Bahasa and Bihun

I made a beeline for the Indo stall, which was run by a solo cook. He was in the middle of plating up rice and chicken satay for a previous order, while already tossing something on the wok.

Now, I don’t usually use my Bahasa Indonesia card when travelling. It tends to invite more questions than I want to answer. But when I really want spicy food? I switch it on.

I asked if he spoke Bahasa (never assume), then asked which dish was both the most popular and the spiciest.

After a few surprised pleasantries (being brown and Indonesian can be confusing to process), he recommended Bihun Goreng (fried vermicelli noodles with sweet soy sauce as a base). Also, Nasi Goreng (Indonesian-style fried rice). And Satay (meat skewers).

But the Bihun, he clarified, was the crowd favourite. So I went with that, though he couldn’t leave out the cabbage (ugh, cabbage — forever an inconvenient food item for me ). Meanwhile, Fafa went with Soto Ayam (Chicken Noodle Soup), my third choice.

We paid, grabbed a buzzer, got drinks and found a seat by the window overlooking fishing boats bobbing under a bright blue Icelandic sky. The whole thing was new, unusual — and, to be honest, expensive.

Sweet and Generous Plate

While we waited, Fafa briefly contemplated trying the Korean fried chicken. But then, the buzzer rang!

Great timing because the portion was huge.

Easily the biggest serving of Indonesian food I’ve ever received. The Bihun was good, but a bit too sweet for my spicy-loving taste buds. I wondered if the cook had tried a little too hard to please this fellow Indonesian and ended up throwing in a bit of everything. (It reminded me of that time I cooked half a kilo of chicken with an entire box of curry masala instead of the two tablespoons the recipe called for).

I did wonder whether I should’ve trusted my Satay instinct and got them with a side of rice instead.

Fafa, on the other hand, really enjoyed his Soto. He offered to switch with me, but I declined. If there’s one thing that man can’t handle in Indonesian food, it’s the sweet-and-spicy combo — and that Bihun was exactly that.

A Sweet Taste of Indo in Iceland

Over the next few days, as I tried more Icelandic food, I started to understand why the Bihun tasted the way it did. A lot of Icelandic dishes — the lamb shank, the soups, even the bread — carried a subtle sweetness. Maybe it has been slightly tweaked to cater to the flavour profile of the locals.

And honestly, I’m just proud that Indonesian food exists in Reykjavík at all. That Sambal exist on this island of fire and ice. It surprised me — not just the Indonesian food presence, but the diversity of the international food scene. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Iceland has a way of making you want to leave everything behind and just stay.

Myself included.

But don’t worry, Indonesian restaurant owner — I won’t be a competition. Not until I figure out how to measure spices with instinct.

Indonesian Food Around the World series: A Cheat Sheet for Indonesian Food in London / Rijsttafel-ing Indonesian Food in Amsterdam / Indonesia Food in Zurich My Most Expensive Meal in Switzerland / Authentic Indonesian Food in Seoul at Bakso Bejo Korea / It’s Java Authentic Indonesian Street Food in Auckland / Makan A Celebration of Indonesian Cuisine in Melbourne / Rasa Rosa A So So Indonesian Food in Canberra / Indonesian Restaurants in Cairns / Indonesian Food in Darwin Leaves Something to Be Desired / I Tracked Down Indonesian Food in Reykjavík Iceland

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