25 years ago Reykjavík was mostly a culinary wasteland. Now it might qualify as a culinary destination, if only Iceland’s landscape didn’t steal so much attention. Iceland now has more wine stewards per capita than any other country in the world. With no venerated food traditions to uphold, innovative young chefs have been free to create Icelandic food in their own image, drawing inspiration wherever they find it. The quality and diversity of ingredients is astounding for such a remote outpost of the world. Unfortunately the rest of Iceland is having trouble getting up to speed.

Icelandic coffee is fine and strong, and coffeehouse culture thrives in Reykjavík. Cafes are a great place to meet locals, second only to the pools. Magazines are usually lying around, refills are often free, and you can linger for hours without being glared at. Most cafes serve food by day but function as bars and clubs at night. They generally don’t open until 11am, and close at 1am, or later on weekends.

Icelanders are well aware that their pylsur (hot dogs) are the best on the planet, and they consume them in enormous quantities — usually ein með öllu, or “one with everything.” A familiar and welcoming sight inside every gas station is the undulating metal rack that holds your hot dog as you dispense mayo, ketchup, and a tangy rémoulade (with finely chopped pickle) from enormous squeeze tubes. Toppings also include raw and crispy onions. But the key ingredient is the hot dog itself: The addition of lamb to the usual pork and beef mellows and deepens the flavor. You probably don’t want to know any more about how they’re made, however.