Frozen Land, Fresh Tomatoes

ICELAND IS KNOWN for many things, including northern lights, steaming geysers (from the Icelandic geysir), sturdy five-gaited horses and abundant geothermal springs. It is not known for agriculture on a scale recognizable to most of the rest of the world. At only 1.2 percent (according to the World Bank), arable land on this island bordering on the Arctic Circle is rare, and the time available to cultivate it is short. But I had heard that the Icelandic people are resourceful, coming up with ways to use the natural resources that they do have to grow tomatoes, a few other vegetables, flowers and even some bananas. It was no great surprise to my gardening friends that I was drawn to visit the Fridheimar tomato farm, the same way that a hiker of the Icelandic outback, with its ice-strewn fields of sharp, jutting lava, would be drawn to the famed geothermal soaking area known as the Blue Lagoon.

Arriving at Reykjavik in early January, my wife Abby and I felt pretty prepared, having done our usual travel homework. But Mother Nature has a way of humbling those who think they have her figured out. As we prepared