Greenland will take you by surprise. Not only by the views of towering icebergs calving into fjords under the midnight sun, or the vast tundra where musk oxen roam like prehistoric ghosts amid colorful wildflowers but also by the fresh fish, hauled straight from the Davis Strait and grilled with a simplicity that lets the ocean’s briny essence shine. And then there’s the beer, a revelation amid the Arctic chill. The country offers a regular load of Carlsbergs and Tuborgs, imported staples that keep the locals toasty during long winters, but one can also find a few gems hidden under local breweries, crafted with glacial meltwater and bold Nordic flair. These microbrews stand out in a land where tradition meets innovation, turning a simple pint into a toast to Greenland’s resilient spirit.

The Other Me spotted one from our hotel window under the name of Godt Håb Bryghus, the island’s pioneering microbrewery tucked into the heart of Nuuk, the world’s smallest capital. The restaurant/pub is located centrally in the city, nearby the Old Town’s colonial harbor where wooden houses huddle against the sea spray, their red facades a nod to Danish roots. Step inside, and the interior brings back an old pub feeling, with two massive copper beer tanks imported from Germany gleaming like trophies behind the bar, quirky fishing tools and antique brewing relics mounted on the walls, and a cozy hearth flickering against the perpetual twilight. Local beer flows fresh from the taps, unpasteurized and alive with effervescence, while the aroma of fermenting grains mingles with the salty tang of the nearby ocean. A recent change of chef was a smart move, because the food was delicious. Imagine succulent halibut from the morning’s catch, charred just right with foraged herbs but I won’t talk about the excellence of grilled fish here. Beer is the topic, and this spot is a pilgrimage for any hop-head venturing north of the Arctic Circle.

My favorite one was Eric the Red, with the alcohol percentage hovering between 4.80% and 5.09%, brewed locally of course in small batches that honor the Viking explorer who first sighted Greenland’s shores over a millennium ago. The total brewing process takes five weeks, a patient ritual yielding a beer with a nice reddish hue brought by the CaraRed malt variety, blended with amber malt and a touch of local honey added during the boil for a subtle floral sweetness that cuts through the crisp bitterness. It’s a balanced red ale that pairs perfectly with the fjord views, evoking tales of Norse sagas over its malty warmth. Beer is served in two sizes: kid size (half pint) for a gentle introduction, and The Other Me size (pint) for those ready to dive deep into the Arctic buzz.

Other types of beer also landed on our table, each a character unto itself: Mastergold Classic, a golden lager with a clean, bready finish and 4.7% ABV, brewed with pale malts for an easy-drinking nod to Pilsner traditions; Godt Håb Muskusbajer, an experimental twist infused with juniper berries for a wild, gin-like herbal edge that screams Nordic wilderness; and Godt Håb Classic, the flagship blonde ale at around 4.5%, light and refreshing with citrus hop notes that make it the ideal aperitif before a plate of seal blubber or Greenlandic lamb. Sipping these amid Nuuk’s harbor lights, with the aurora occasionally teasing the horizon, it’s clear why locals guard their brewing secrets—these beers aren’t just drinks; they’re liquid stories of a land where ice meets fire in every foam-topped glass.