The first day in Reykjavik was mired by a stinging wind that seemed to blow through my Pops and I, which after a short walk around the harbor left us clamoring for a cozy spot near the hotel. Cafe Paris fit the bill, situated just a stone's throw from the main square where our hotel sat. The cafe was definitely a student hangout, reminiscent of Bob's Burgers and Brew in Bellingham (i.e all female servers, not one over 23) though the decor was more welcoming; comic book art adorned the walls, disco balls dangled, and there were a few book shelves lined with english books. The food was very simple, though that's by no means an insult. The lamb so fresh you could taste grass 'tween the grains of meat, and the langoustine that arched over my plate so rich it needn't the bearnaise to make it taste like the fruit of butter.
Cafe Paris is not traditional Icelandic food, and it's not a place to go to avoid a burger, though it is full of life and it's menu does not lack passion.
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