Travel Travel Guides How the Mighty Hot Dog Became an Icelandic Staple Icelandic hot dogs will unite us all. By Erika Owen is a Brooklyn-based travel and design writer. Her work has appeared in Architectural Digest, Domino, Condé Nast Traveler, Travel + Leisure, Tripadvisor, GQ, Thrillist, AFAR, and many more sites and magazines. When she isn't wandering around her neighborhood, she's likely in Iceland or planning her next trip to the Arctic." tabindex="0" data-inline-tooltip="true"> Erika Owen Erika Owen Erika Owen is a Brooklyn-based travel and design writer. Her work has appeared in Architectural Digest, Domino, Condé Nast Traveler, Travel + Leisure, Tripadvisor, GQ, Thrillist, AFAR, and many more sites and magazines. When she isn't wandering around her neighborhood, she's likely in Iceland or planning her next trip to the Arctic. Food & Wine's Editorial Guidelines Published on March 5, 2024 Close Photo: Getty Images / OsakaWayne Studios Less than 12 hours before I got married, I had the best hot dog of my life. It wasn’t my first Icelandic hot dog experience, but it was the most memorable. Fresh off of a cocktail date, my matron of honor walked me from the bar straight to Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur, a small red stand that’s been slinging hot dogs since 1937, before heading home. My soon-to-be-husband was writing his vows in our hotel room, and I just wanted to call my mom in those ambiguous last few hours between legally single and spouse. Airpods in, phone in my pocket, and snack in hand, I speed-dialed her to talk about my impending nuptials — an elopement devoid of a guest list, given the distance and our desire for an ultra-private moment. Standing at a table with a built-in wooden hot dog holder, I soothed her (understandable) pain for not getting a physical invite, and she did her best to hype me up for the occasion in the way only a mother can. Around me, fellow tourists were recounting their days' adventures and locals were getting a late-night bite (it was nearing 11 p.m., though the June sun was still high in the sky). There’s something special about this hot dog stand — the line is always there, and the menu never changes. It’s not entirely unlike being stuck in a courtyard-size time warp. In the time warp of my own memories, I will forever be the bride, double-fisting hot dogs. Despite its fame, the hot dog hardly feels original to Iceland — and it isn’t. “Hot dogs became a culinary staple in Iceland after World War II,” says Sindri Gudlaugs, operations manager of The Reykjavik Food Walk. “They were one of the few American influences that was widely accepted and loved by Icelanders. Their affordability and deliciousness made them popular quickly.” There are multiple levels to the beauty of this treat. First off, the hot dog itself. “The product is Icelandic lamb meat, which is in a league of its own,” says Baldur Ingi Halldórsson, CEO of Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur (a hot dog stand with its own cult following). “On top of that, we have our own bread recipe — our breads are as soft as the clouds.” The toppings complete the equation: remoulade (a mayonnaise-based sauce with sweet relish), a sweet mustard called pylsusinnep, ketchup, crispy fried onions, and, sometimes, raw onions. Call it a comfort food, but I’d say Icelandic hot dogs are a unifier — after all, where there are people, there are hot dogs, from the gas stations dotting the countryside to the food trucks in Reykjavik. And maybe on your visit you spot a bride or groom in line as a bonus. Here are a few places to bookmark for your next trip to Iceland. The best places to have an Icelandic hot dog Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur (Reykjavik) You can call me biased, but I’m not the only one who loves it here. “Many locals swear by Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur,” says Gudlaugs. “It's been serving hot dogs since 1937 and has even attracted celebrities like Bill Clinton and Kim Kardashian.” If you need more encouragement, the name of this spot translates to “Best hot dog in town.” Personally, I love how tucked away this stand is — you don’t know you’re there until you’re practically on top of it. Pro tip: This hot dog stand has incredible merch. Pylsuvagninn (Selfoss) Pylsuvagninn is forever a work in progress. When it opened in 1984, the humble stand sold hot dogs from its 32-foot imprint in the ground. The next year, it doubled its footprint to 75 feet. Today, the red-and-white building is a beacon for hungry locals and tourists — and there’s a northern outpost in Akureyri, the second-most populous city in Iceland. Pro tip: Don’t sleep on the fries, which are served in huge portions. Gas stations (all over the country) As I mentioned above, you’d be hard-pressed to find a gas station that doesn’t serve up solid hot dogs. And unlike the reputation American gas station food has earned, the options available in Icelandic gas stops often rival the same fare you can find in a sit-down restaurant. Given that gas stations can be few and far between, it’s prudent to get a snack when you come across one. Pro tip: If you end up loving Icelandic hot dogs, pick up a bottle of pylsusinnep from the gas station to bring home before you resume your road trip. It’s the unexpected souvenir you’ll thank yourself for snagging. Meistarinn (Stykkishólmur) The tourist crowds thin out once you get north of Snaefellsnes Peninsula, but there are hot dogs to be had. Meistarinn puts a spotlight on the country’s more inventive hot dog scene. What, exactly, constitutes an “inventive hot dog,” you may wonder. Enter: the “Henriks,” a deep-fried hot dog topped with Doritos, garlic sauce, cheese, and seasoning. Pro tip: This food truck also offers sandwiches and burgers for those who aren’t hot dog fans. Was this page helpful? Thanks for your feedback! Tell us why! Other Submit