The rise of the can

I've just been knocking some numbers together for my book "Keg!". Ones looking at sales by package. Most of which I had to harvest especially.

I have tables with big long sets of UK beer statistics. Almost all taken from the Brewer's Almanack or its successor, the Statistical Handbook. Such handy books.

Getting a bit carried away, I didn't finish at 1980, but continued on to 1988. Which makes the trend of moving from returnable bottled to cans all the more evident. It also shows a change in the types of beer being drunk. Because some styles which had once been popular in pubs, such as Brown Ale, weren't often canned.

What were the classic canned beers? Bitter, yes. But most pre-eminent was Lager. With canned Lager becoming the archetypal beer to consume at home. Which I'm sure it remains to this day.

Beer sales by package 1971 - 1980 (%)
Year	Draught	Bottle/Can	Returnable bottle	Non-returnable bottle	Can
1971	73.5	26.5	22.5	4
1972	73.4	26.6	21.9	4.7
1973	73.1	26.9	21.2	5.7
1974	73.8	26.2	19.7	0.6	5.9
1975	75.8	24.2	16.7	0.6	6.9
1976	77.1	22.9	14.4	0.5	8
1977	78.5	21.5	12.8	0.4	8.3
1978	78.2	21.8	11.9	0.6	9.3
1979	78.3	21.7	11.1	0.6	10
1980	78.9	21.1	10.3	0.5	10.3
1981	79.5	20.5	9.5	0.6	10.4
1982	79.4	20.6	8.4	0.7	11.5
1983	78.5	21.5	7.5	1.6	12.4
1984	78.2	21.8	6.8	2.1	12.9
1985	77.2	22.8	6.6	2.4	13.8
1986	75.8	24.2	6.3	2.7	15.2
1987	74.3	25.7	6.4	2.9	16.4
1988	73.2	26.8	6.6	3	17.2
Sources:
The Brewers' Society UK Statistical Handbook 1980, page 11.
The Brewers' Society UK Statistical Handbook 1988, page 17.

 

 

out of the can

I rarely buy beer in cans. Europe isn't exactly overflowing with quality canned beer. It's usually only the pissiest of lager or a bland ale pretending to be nitro-dispensed keg. Neither feature much in my purchasing fantasies.

There are some good arguments for packaging beer in cans - preventing light damage, for example. But somehow a can lacks the aesthetic appeal of a bottle. And I can't get the negative associations out of my mind. I've only recently come to terms with buying bottled beer. Cans will need several more decades to gain my acceptance.

That said, I have drunk a few this year. This is what I've had out of the can.

Bavaria Piss. When I was desperate on the way back from an outing with the kids. I bought it at one of the imaginatively-named Kiosk chain of snack counters that you find in Dutch stations. Luckily it was ice cold and I was ice pissed. One of the advantages of taking the kids along is that they can guide me home when my brain takes a holiday. It teaches them self-reliance and independent thought. That's what I tell Dolores. And social services when they finally catch up with me.

Whitbread Gold Label. The beer that confused me about Barley Wine. Purchased, if I remember correctly, in Balderton's Kwik Save. I drank these (a pack of four) nice and warm. Much better than I expected, to be honest. Strong beer is essential when staying at my brother's. Yet perversely the shops within in walking distance sell almost none. The few available are crap. I expected only historical interest and inebriation from Gold Label. That it was a quarter-decent beer was a bonus.

Carlsberg Special Brew. My credibility must now be bouncing along at snake-belly level. The choice in Balderton keeps getting worse. A couple of years ago I could get Guinness FES. AT the risk of sounding like a total alky, given the choice between a piss-weak crap beer and a strong crap beer, I'll go for the latter. You would have thought that the change from oh-so-classy Kwik Save to Sainsbury's would have improved the beer selection in the closest supermarket. It didn't. Hence the Special Brew. I'm not sure I'd bother with this one again. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, unpleasant. In comparison, Gold Label is Courage Russian Stout. But I did finish the whole four pack. Not that I derived any pleasure from it. The alternatives - sobriety or drinking double the number of crappy weak beers - were just too horrific to contemplate.