Julebrus is plain awful
Festive Bergen sparkles, but Norway’s biggest seasonal scam sits right in your hand.
This is an apropos. Apropos is the free column where Studvest journalists can write about whatever they want. The language is often informal and playful. Note: satire, sarcasm, and irony may occur, and the apropos should be taken with a grain of salt.
Bergen glimmers with warm festive lights. But lurking beneath this glow – right there on the supermarket shelves , in the cafes, and clutched in eager hands—is a guilty secret: julebrus. Norway’s infamous «Christmas soda» might just be the biggest festive fraud of all.
For a nation that prides itself on koselig – that unique, heartfelt coziness – Norwegians have got it all wrong with julebrus.
What is it really? A fizzy concoction of water, sugar, and artificial flavouring, for 22 kroner a bottle. That’s right: overpriced, sugary liquid in a bottle, masquerading as tradition.
Sure, I get the nostalgia, childhood memories and all. But, if you are over 18, why does this sugar juice still bring you joy?
And here’s the kicker: many Norwegians insist julebrus must come in a glass bottle. Really? This cheap, neon-colored swill deserves the elegance of glass?
Remember 2023, when a national emergency occurred, Ringnes recalled julebrus, due to risk of glass shards in the bottles. You would have thought this would have put an end to the julebrus tradition, but no. It simply spurred the obsession further.
Let’s stop pretending. Julebrus doesn’t taste good. It’s a sugary gimmick, a holiday marketing trap, and it’s time to call it out for what it is.
Stop gaslighting yourself, it does not taste good.