Ah, Brennivín: Iceland’s most iconic liquor and one of the first things you’ll see on display at the duty-free shop in Reykjavík Airport. Dubbed “Black Death,” thanks to the skull logo slapped on the label after prohibition (Iceland went all Boardwalk Empire in the 1930s), the neon green schnapps is just as mythologized as the fermented shark tourists often pair with it. Unless you want to test your gag reflex, leave the hákarl to Anthony Bourdain and knock back a chilled shot or two in a bar. It tastes like caraway and burns like a furnace. Purchasing an entire bottle is probably overkill, lest you want to play a cruel joke on someone back home. Better to save your króna for craft beer from local breweries like Einstök and Ölvisholt or a bottle of wild foraged bilberry, rhubarb, or crowberry liqueur from 64° Reykjavík Distillery.