By the All Things Nordic Editorial Team

In the heart of the North Atlantic, between the harsh winds and steep cliffs of the Faroe Islands, a quiet movement is reshaping the way islanders think about food. It’s called Matkovin — a grassroots initiative that’s helping Faroese people rediscover the flavours of their own land.

A Movement Born of Necessity

The Faroe Islands have never been an easy place to grow food. With thin soil, little arable land, and a climate defined by wind, fog, and rain, the archipelago has long relied on imported goods from Denmark and mainland Europe. Even staples such as fresh vegetables often travel hundreds of miles before reaching local shops. But in recent years, a growing number of Faroese have begun questioning this dependence. The COVID-19 pandemic, global supply chain disruptions, and a major labour strike in 2024 all underscored how vulnerable the islands are to external shocks. That’s where ‘Matkovin’ comes in. Founded by a local couple passionate about sustainability and community, Matkovin (which means “food friend” in Faroese) aims to support local producers, encourage self-sufficiency, and reconnect people with their food heritage.

The Farmers’ Market at the Centre

At the heart of the initiative is the Tórshavn Farmers’ Market, organised by Matkovin one Sunday a month for much of the year. The market may be small — just a few stalls by the harbour — but it’s become a symbol of renewal. Visitors can find kale, rhubarb, and cabbage grown in local gardens; seasoned salts made with seaweed; eggs from tiny coastal farms; and soups crafted from fermented vegetables. Prices reflect the remoteness of the islands — often higher than on the mainland — but the value lies in something deeper: food grown and made in the Faroes, by Faroese hands.

Making the Invisible Visible

Matkovin’s founders often speak about the “invisibility” of local producers. Supermarkets, they point out, rarely sell Faroese food, and when they do, labels seldom mention where it was made or by whom. Their mission is to change that. On their website and through social media, Matkovin profiles small-scale producers from across the archipelago — from families making rhubarb jam on Kalsoy to greenhouse growers on Sandoy. Each story reveals both the challenges and creativity of producing food in one of the world’s most demanding environments. “There is a divide between the romantic vision of Faroese food culture and the everyday state of things,” the project writes. “Few Faroese foods are available in the shops, and the Faroese food producer is invisible.

Tradition Meets Innovation

Matkovin doesn’t just promote the old ways — it also celebrates innovation. The initiative has become a hub for projects that combine tradition with modern sustainability: greenhouse farming, kelp harvesting, microdairies, and artisanal meat production. This balance between heritage and experimentation mirrors the Faroese food story itself. Historically, locals survived on preserved and fermented foods — dried fish, cured lamb, wind-dried meat — techniques that turned scarcity into art. Today, Matkovin helps these traditions coexist with new ideas for a more self-reliant future.

Building a Food Culture for the Future

Matkovin’s impact goes beyond the marketplace. It’s part of a growing cultural shift that includes heimablídni (home-hosted meals for travellers) and high-end restaurants like Paz, which reinterpret local ingredients for global visitors. Together, these efforts form a broader movement: one that values sustainability, identity, and the simple act of knowing where your food comes from.

From Islands to Inspiration

What began as a small community project has become a model for resilience in remote regions. By reimagining food not as a commodity but as a cultural expression, Matkovin is helping the Faroes reclaim something fundamental — a sense of connection between people, place, and plate. As the world’s attention increasingly turns toward the Faroe Islands for their wild beauty and authenticity, Matkovin offers a lesson that resonates far beyond these shores: in an era of global trade and industrial agriculture, sometimes the most radical act is to grow — and eat — what’s right in front of you.

Read more on Matkovin.fo