ESSAY
Why It Tastes So Strange
The source of that unmistakable smell is a plant called sassafras, which gives Root Beer its distinctive aroma. But the real issue isn’t the ingredient itself—it’s what the smell reminds you of.
No matter how you try to describe it, it always comes back to the same comparison:
cola mixed with pomade and menthol ointment.
This is not a matter of taste. It’s a matter of memory. At that moment, my body made a decision before I could think:
“This is not something you drink.”
Originally, It Was Medicine
The story becomes even more complicated. Root Beer was originally a kind of herbal medicine, a tonic made from roots and plants. In 19th-century America, it was consumed for digestion and general health—a kind of folk remedy.
Which means that medicinal taste was never a mistake.
It was the point.
In that sense, it shares a similar origin with Coca-Cola—both began as medicinal drinks. They simply evolved in very different directions.
The Original Ingredient That Was Banned
Then comes the final twist. The original sassafras contained a compound called safrole, which was later suspected to be carcinogenic and banned in the United States in the 1960s.
So what is Root Beer now?
The answer is simple: it is an artificial recreation of that original flavor.
- Then: an actual medicinal drink
- Now: a drink designed to taste like medicine
Somewhere along the way, a very strange decision was made.
Why Americans Love It
This is where everything starts to make sense. In the U.S., Root Beer is commonly found at hot dog stands, and more importantly, the same flavor is used in candy, gum, and ice cream.
For Americans, the equation is simple:
“That smell” = something sweet and enjoyable.
A Matter of Cultural Memory
- For Japanese people: medicinal smell → rejection
- For Americans: candy-like smell → comfort
The flavor is the same, but the meaning is completely reversed.
So what I spat into the drain that day wasn’t just a drink.
It was culture.
Different Root Beer Brands
Not all Root Beers are the same.
- A&W Root Beer — sweeter, with a strong vanilla note. Supposedly beginner-friendly, though what “beginner” means in this context remains unclear.
- Barq’s Root Beer — sharper and more carbonated. There is no easy escape.
- Mug Root Beer — milder and easier to drink, or so they say. I remain skeptical.
The first one you try may shape your entire opinion.
Epilogue — Forty Years Later
That taste was never really about the tongue—it was rejected somewhere deeper, inside memory.
Nearly forty years have passed. Apparently, more people in Japan have started to accept it, for reasons I don’t fully understand, and now it’s easy to find.
Memory has a way of rewriting itself. The taste I once threw away into a drain sometimes comes back to me, and occasionally—much to my own surprise—I find myself drinking it again.
Just to remember what it felt like.
→Read a full roundup of the taste culture shocks I experienced in 1990s America.