Icelanders celebrate heritage in Utah

SPANISH FORK — City (and state) residents of Icelandic descent were out in full force Saturday at the annual Thorrablot midwinter festival sponsored by the Icelandic Association of Utah.

Icelanders take their heritage seriously — those who are not of a pure strain tend to refer to their mixed heritage as part Icelander and part human being, said one attendee at the event.

Kristi Robertson, association president, backed the observation, noting that many measure their blood relationship to Iceland in eighths. Robertson traces her Icelandic heritage on both sides of her lineage to the early Mormon settlers of Spanish Fork.

Between 1855 and 1914, some 410 Icelanders — most of them converts to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — left their homes and sailed across the Atlantic to the United States. They made their way west to Spanish Fork, where they found not only the strength of their new religion but also a better climate and economy than they had left behind.

A sesquicentennial celebration is scheduled for this summer.

"The (Icelanders) stuck together — and they still do," noted Robertson. It was common among the early Icelanders to stick together and marry within the Icelandic group for generations after the initial immigration to Utah, she said.

Saturday's gathering at the city's Veterans Memorial Building was an interesting blend of genealogy and some strange sounding — and tasting — food, much of which resonates uncomfortably on those with more traditional American palates.

Much of the diet is based around seafood and lamb, and nothing goes to waste, Richard Johnson said. An Icelandic descendant, Johnson studies the ways of his ancestors.

One missing dish on the menu Saturday was the shark meat that is traditionally buried in the ground in the fall and dug up for the Thorrablot celebration in winter. Getting some authentic meats from Iceland has become problematic in recent years because of shipping bans between the United States and Iceland stemming from mad cow disease concerns.

That hasn't slowed the celebration much as locals substitute locally grown meats that they put through the Icelandic rituals of salting, brine soaking or smoking (usually over the burnt embers of cow and sheep dung).

Icelandic recipes go heavy on white pepper, sugar and butter, said DeVon Koyle, one of the cooks at the event, noting that white pepper gives the food a stronger flavor.