In the winter of 875 AD, a group of Norse settlers huddled in a turf house in Iceland’s Westfjords, their bellies empty and livestock dead from the cold. With starvation looming, they risked eating the only available protein: the flesh of a Greenland shark that had washed ashore. Just hours later, they were in unbearable pain—throwing up, seeing things that weren’t there, and eventually collapsing.. The shark’s meat was poison.
Yet, through months of trial and error, these settlers unlocked a secret: burying the shark’s toxic flesh in gravelly sand for months transformed it into something edible. That’s how hakarl came to be—a fermented shark dish that helped Icelanders get through tough times when food was scarce. Today, it’s seen by some as a powerful symbol of survival, and by others as a challenging taste they’d rather avoid.
Today, hakarl is a rite of passage for adventurous travelers and a cultural touchstone for Icelanders. Its ammonia-heavy aroma and chewy texture repel many, but its story—of survival, microbial alchemy, and identity—offers a window into Iceland’s soul.
Chapter 1: How It All Began – Surviving Iceland’s Harsh, Frozen Wilderness

The Norse Settlers: Pioneers on the Edge of Survival
When Norse explorers arrived in Iceland in the 9th century, they encountered a land of extremes. Volcanic soil allowed barley and turnips to grow, but the climate was merciless. The Little Ice Age (starting circa 1250 AD) brought temperatures as low as -30°C, freezing livestock and destroying crops.
Archaeological digs at pjorsardalur Valley reveal Greenland shark bones in 10th-century waste pits, suggesting early attempts to eat the creature. But raw consumption proved disastrous. Written accounts from the 12th-century Landnamabok (Book of Settlements) describe symptoms like “shaking limbs” and “visions of wolves”—hallmarks of neurotoxic poisoning from trimethylamine oxide (TMAO) in the shark’s flesh.
Greenland Sharks: The Arctic’s Toxic Leviathans
Greenland sharks (Somniosus microcephalus) are evolutionary marvels. Living as deep as 2,200 meters in the Arctic Ocean, these creatures can survive for 400 to 500 years—something scientists confirmed in 2016 by testing their eye lenses with radiocarbon dating. Their slow metabolism and frigid habitat require unique adaptations:
- TMAO: A natural antifreeze that stabilizes proteins in cold temperatures.
- Urea: Stored in body tissues to help keep the right balance of water and salt in the ocean environment.
When ingested, gut bacteria convert TMAO into trimethylamine (TMA), a neurotoxin causing headaches, vomiting, and respiratory failure. Urea, meanwhile, decomposes into ammonia, creating the shark’s infamous rotting odor.
The Fermentation Breakthrough: Sand, Time, and Microbial Magic
Desperation drove innovation. Early settlers found that burying shark meat in sandy, slightly alkaline pits (with a pH of 8–9) for 6 to 12 weeks helped remove its toxins. The process involved:
- Butchering: The shark’s head and guts are removed first, since they’re packed with the most dangerous toxins.
- Burial: Meat cubes placed in gravel-lined pits, weighted with stones to press out urea-rich fluids.
- Drying: Air-drying for 4–5 months on wooden racks, where coastal winds desiccated the meat.
A 2020 University of Reykjavik study found this method reduces TMAO levels by 90%, rendering the meat edible.
Chapter 2: The Science – How Fermentation Transforms Poison into Food

Microbial Alchemy: The Role of Bacteria
The burial phase introduces Halanaerobium bacteria, extremophiles that thrive in alkaline environments. These microbes perform critical tasks:
- TMAO Breakdown: Convert TMAO into dimethylamine (harmless).
- pH Reduction: Lower the meat’s pH from 9 to 6, inhibiting pathogens.
- Protein Digestion: Break down muscle into peptides, creating umami flavors.
Lab tests show ammonia levels drop from 1,200 ppm (toxic) to 200 ppm (safe) during fermentation.
The Biochemistry of Flavor: Why Hákarl Smells (and Tastes) Like Ammonia
Hakarl’s pungency comes from residual urea derivatives and microbial byproducts:
- Ammonia: From decomposed urea.
- Butyric Acid: A compound also found in rancid butter.
- Umami Peptides: Savory flavors from protein breakdown.
A 2019 Journal of Food Science study compared hakarl’s flavor profile to blue cheese and salt-cured anchovies, but with “overpowering ammonia notes.”
Modern Safety Protocols: EU Regulations and Risks
While traditional methods work, improper fermentation can leave trace toxins. In 2012, two Norwegian tourists were hospitalized after eating homemade hakarl. Today, Iceland’s Food and Veterinary Authority enforces strict guidelines:
- Controlled Fermentation: Temperature and pH monitoring.
- Commercial Licensing: Only six producers, like Bjarnarhöfn Shark Museum, are licensed.
Chapter 3: Cultural Evolution – From Survival Food to National Symbol

Hakarl in Icelandic Sagas and Folklore
By the 13th century, hakarl had entered Icelandic lore. The Egil’s Saga recounts warriors eating “rotten fish” during sieges, while the Sturlunga Saga links hakarl consumption to endurance. It also became a status symbol—families with stored hakarl were considered prepared for hardship.
Porrablot: The Viking Feast of Midwinter
Hakarl is central to porrablot, a midwinter festival celebrating Norse heritage. The feast includes:
- Svio (singed sheep’s head).
- Rugbrauo (dense rye bread).
- Brennivin (celandic schnapps), nicknamed “Black Death” for its role in washing down hakarl.
Modern Revival: Hakarl in Post-Crisis Iceland
The 2008 financial crisis reignited interest in traditional foods. Hakarl consumption rose 22% as Icelanders embraced “retro survivalism.” Chef Sigurour Gislason of Dill Restaurant (Iceland’s first Michelin-starred eatery) spearheaded modern reinterpretations, like hakarl foam paired with birch-smoked lamb.
Chapter 4: Hakarl Today – Tourism, Controversy, and Innovation

The “Viking Challenge”: Tourism’s Love-Hate Relationship
Hakarl is now a $2.3 million industry, driven by 700,000+ annual tourists. Reykjavik’s Cafe Loki sells 10,000 portions yearly, but reactions are mixed:
- Adventurous Eaters: Anthony Bourdain didn’t hold back—he called it the absolute worst thing he’d ever put in his mouth.
- Cultural Critics: Argue it reduces Icelandic history to a gimmick.
A 2021 University of Iceland survey found:
- 73% of tourists try hakarl for “cultural immersion.”
- 40% cannot finish their portion.
Culinary Innovation: Reinventing a Viking Staple
Young chefs are reimagining hakarl:
- Hakarl Croquettes: At Reykjavik’s Fiskmarkaourinn, served with dill creme fraiche.
- Brennivin Cocktails: People add crowberry syrup to help mellow out hakarl’s intense, sharp flavor.
Sustainability Debates: Conservation vs. Tradition
Greenland sharks are near-threatened due to bycatch and slow reproduction. Iceland’s annual catch quota is 50 sharks, but conservationists push for stricter limits. Meanwhile, Reykjavik’s ORF Genetics is experimenting with lab-grown shark meat as an ethical alternative.
Chapter 5: How to Eat Hakarl – A Guide for the Brave

The Traditional Method
- Skewer It: Use a toothpick to spear a cube.
- Nose First: Smell it cautiously—ammonia fumes are intense.
- Chew Quickly: Swallow fast to minimize lingering taste.
- Chase with Brennivin: The schnapps’ caraway flavor neutralizes ammonia.
Where to Try It
- Bjarnarhofn Shark Museum: A family-run farm in West Iceland offering tours.
- Islenski Barinn (Reykjavik): Serves hakarl with rye bread and fermented shark liqueur.