I didn’t know this until earlier in our trip, but Iceland is the world leader in hot dogs. And the best hot dog in Iceland, all agree, is at Baejarins Betzu, conveniently just a few steps from our hotel.
Yes, it’s a shack. But people come from all over the world to eat there – including one William Jefferson Clinton, whose smiling picture is the only decoration in the shack.
Since no one can eat just one, the picnic table conveniently includes a hot dog holder for your extra dogs.
No one knows what makes them so good. Some guess that they are cooked in beer. I think it’s the genius-level innovation of putting the fried onion condiment underneath the dark honey mustard and aioli so that they don’t get soggy. I’m inspired to start putting potato chips underneath my own dogs. Granted I can count the number of hot dogs I eat in a year on one hand.
This dog snapped so hard when you bit into it that you could hear it. There was a line outside the window of people eating them in their cars.
We washed it down with a tiny ice-free coke. When I went to Europe with Sarah after college, I think I cried at one point about the lack of ice and miniature drinks. But we are in Iceland and the Coke was ice cold. And surprisingly I still had just enough after I finished my dog. Yum!