Schous-Kjelleren Bryggeri

After our excursion to Nesenblød, we decided we needed a spirit or two.

You know Jim and I are very adamant about our beer, and being that Norway is packed full of bryggeris (breweries), we could not resist! The downside? There’s just too many. Not complaining, but damn…these fuckers do not okay! Jim found Schous-Kjelleren, and we decided to walk a mile from our hotel to get there. After spending about 20 minutes walking in circles, trying to avoid the sleet from soaking my Sherpa, and Jim’s…menza menza Google maps skills (sorry honey 🥴😂😂♥️♥️) we FINALLY realized the bitch was right in front of us.

However, what we didn’t know, was this place was about to be one of the coolest places we had ever been to…PERIOD.

Entering the place is much like any underground bar you’ve probably been to in the States, BUT, this place was something serious. Founded in 1821, this was one of the oldest landmarks in modern Oslo history. The iron bars protecting the kegs still smelled of their origins being smelted, forged, and cooled to the perfect temp. The hard, rock floor was something I, personally, got a huge kick out of. As I’m discovering in Europe, they are very much respectful of their history—and damn it—GOOD!

Walking into the belly of the brewery, we were met with dim lighting resembling Dragonsreach in Skyrim, and a warm fireplace cracking in the back. There were few patrons sitting in the leather seats fashionably placed around the perimeter of the place; the high booth sitting was gorgeous in terms of design—allowing each, individual booth its own privacy in front and back.

We looked at the menu which carried (strangely) a West Coast IPA, an assortment of ales, pilsners, stouts, and porters. BUT!!!!! My eyes were on the meads. Maybe it’s the most goddamn touristy thing to do—but having an authentic mead from the holy land, well…

I decided to try the black currant mead, and Jim went for his Pilsner. We walked back to a secluded part in the back and watched the fire dance inside its hearth. My whole life, I’ve always loved the subtlety of a fire and its simplicity in ensnaring humans ever so easily. I must admit, I fall victim quite well, but a fire placed in a hearth from 1821 has its charms, to be sure.

I smelled the contents of my glass and was quite stumped as to the notes: Smokey, sweet, fruity and tannic? I put my lips to the glass and I was immediately hit with a smack of firewood and smoke flavor. Was this secretly a peated scotch and I was confused? Nope. The Smokey flavor evolved into a sweet, delicious, rich currant flavor that coated my tongue and rolled off my palette.

Incredible. Tantalizing. Enriching. Fullfillment.

I’m officially spoiled now. This currant mead made its way into my Top 5 favorite beverages EVER. And when I tell you as someone who…I feel…knows her liquor…this was a smack in the face that commands you to pay attention.

I think I tried three different variants available, and each one was a unique note each time. If you’re in Norway, you MUST come.

Also, and this was something unknown to Jim and I, but this brewery was also a Nazi hideout during WW2. So, stack a rich history with rich flavor, and you’re certain to have an unforgettable experience.