Whale of a Time in Oslo
Experiencing a taste of the politically incorrect
“These here are alive,” explains my new Norwegian friend, uncovering a box of peachy-shelled langoustines. “We can keep them fresh this way for up to one week.”
We’re standing in the cool room of O.Fjelberg Fisk & Vilt, one of Oslo’s premier seafood and game meat specialty delicatessens. It’s the Scandinavian shellfish equivalent of death row, where last rites are read over a boiling pot and heaven is them on a plate.
But while the docile langoustines appear resigned to their fate, the larger, black-shelled Norwegian lobster are entirely too hyperactive. My guide hoists up two particularly snappy specimens, unperturbed by what look like potentially lethal claws. (Well, lethal enough to lop off the tip of a finger or two.) Waving them around as he illustrates the difference between the sexes – females boast a wider tail – they appear as relieved as I when he finally drops them back in to their Styrofoam box.
Not that their reprieve will be a long one.
Surrounded by the fish-rich waters of the North, Barents and Norwegian seas, Norway has become the single largest exporter of fish in the world. Forget the story of the one that got away - two to three million tonnes of our fishy friends are caught every year, amounting to an export value of around $30 billion in Norwegian kroner (AUS$6 billion). That’s no small amount of fish to fry.
But while about 90 per cent of the catch will land on European and Japanese plates, Norwegians are keen to consume their share. As am I. Which is precisely how I find myself trudging through two-feet of snow to Oslo’s refined Frogner neighbourhood – and O.Fjeldberg’s hallowed door. “I’ve rung them and told them to expect you,” says Marianne, Norwegian friend and Fjelberg enthusiast. “But go early. Friday’s are busy.”
She wasn’t kidding. Though it’s not yet 11am, the 130-year old family-run delicatessen is already jammed with affluent ski-types apparently keen to pick up supplies for weekend trips to their mountain lodges. In between the chinging of cash registers and playful, indecipherable (to me) banter with the hordes of regulars, Tim gives me the tour.
Cool room aside, there’s the stunning window display of the day’s catch – fresh-boiled Norwegian lobsters, wild turbot, halibut, cod, salmon, pearly scallops and the last of the season’s Norwegian crabs. (“In Autumn we sell it whole, with the shell, and it’s all over here,” he says of the local crustacean, indicating a huge space in the front display.) Fresh stock is brought in from Oslo’s commercial fishing market every morning, arriving on ice just hours after being pulled from Norway’s Western waters.
Of course those with a grasp of Norwegian will be quick to pick up on the delicatessens secondary arm – the game meat that puts the ‘vilt’ in O.Fjelberg Fisk and Vilt. But it’s the ‘fisk’ that devotees flock here for.
Keen for a taste, I indulge in a little pick-and-mix: salmon, sliced from the luscious, pinky-orange fillets that are smoked in the 100-year old oven of the city’s most famous smoke house. Alongside? Salmon tartar drizzled with olive oil and mixed with fresh basil, a couple of scallops tossed in pesto, and, to finish, skagen salat – a Norwegian favourite combining langoustines and eggs from the locally caught löje fish in a cream-ily rich lemon and dill dressing.
With its half-dozen stools, the bar makes the perfect spot for solo nibbling, though those keen for a slightly more formal experience can make their way to the cosy, subterranean dining space. Unfortunately for fish fans everywhere, the 12-seat space is restricted to lunch and private evening parties only – dinner, it seems, would have to be had elsewhere.
But if the midday meal gave a clear glimpse in to the stunning freshness of Norway’s ocean offerings, dinner served up a murky ethical dilemma in the form of a couple of pieces of unexpected sashimi at Alex Sushi – the hottest of hot Japanese restaurants in the Norwegian capital.
“Here we have salmon, seared tuna…,” our waiter stands before us reeling off the colourful, rich offerings on the night’s sashimi platter. “…halibut and whale.”
Neither he nor the three Norwegians at the table flinch. Not something that can be said for the rest of us. Though they are quick to launch in to a coordinated offensive, not all at the table appear convinced. “It’s all American hype,” they scoff of theories on endangered whale populations.
A little follow-up research reveals the dozen slices of meaty-red flesh come from the 1000-or-so minke whales hunted yearly (Norwegian Parliament this year raised the quota, allowing the hunt of an additional 250 of the giant mammals.) So it’s legal, it’s cultural, but – for the non-Norwegian contingent – the idea of chowing down on Moby Dick is still not a comfortable one.
And the taste? Well, I’d love to say that I refused, but my culinary curiosity got the better of me. Tasting strongly of game with overtones of saltiness, it is a pungent combination of venison-meets-sardine.
I think I’ll stick to smoked salmon.
Getting around:
Oslo hasn’t been recently named the most expensive city in the world for nothing. Save money by taking the express train between the airport and city centre, leaving every 10 minutes (taxis are an expensive luxury.) One-way tickets are about 150 NOK (AUS$30), and take about 20 minutes to reach centrally located Oslo S, or Nationaltheatret stations.
A compact city, it is possible to see Oslo on foot. Or opt for the easy-to-use T-bane (subway system), with five lines crossing the city from east to west. A 24-hour ticket costs about AUS$12.
Addresses:
O.Fjelberg Fisk & Vilt, Bygdøy Allé 56, Oslo. Phone +47 22 44 60 41.
Alex Sushi, Cort Adelersgt 2, Oslo. Phone +47 22 43 99 99.