Cold beers with cool ads
Crisp, light, and refreshing—every time.
This week I had a close friend from eons ago tell me what he thinks my taste in beer resembles.
He said that if someone was to ask him to describe my taste in beer, he’d say it’s less about flavor and more about the experience of drinking it.
“‘Allan needs it to be cold, crisp, light and refreshing. He likes the idea of drinking the beer, rather than the flavor itself,’ is what I’d tell them.”
I have to say I agree.
I prefer my beers to be light on the flavor and heavy on the vibe. For that reason, IPAs and hoppy concoctions don’t bode well. Craft beer fans will be quick to tell me I’m just not doing it right, that they have an underground brand I simply have to try.
But I won’t.
The hoppy fermentation in heavier beers and ales, the beers with flavor, according to the connoisseurs, makes my nose curl up and my eyes water, like they’ve been steeping in a bag of barley, or some other hipster craft ingredient.
Is barley hipster?
I’ve been to a brewery tour or five in my time and they’re always boring and I still don’t know how beer’s made. And I don’t care too much about it, either. I’m more interested in learning how Vegemite’s made
...King of spreads, by the way.
If you ask me, there are three attributes to a good beer.
First, the bottle needs to look good cold. And let me tell you, not all beers look good cold. Clear bottles, like the ones housing Corona lager, don’t look good cold. They hide the condensation marks and I think that affects the taste.
Darker bottles, on the other hand, reveal when it’s time for drinking. The frosty condensation is like a whispered invitation from a forbidden lover.
Dark bottles come in either brown or green glass and there’s science behind these choices. Beer, much like my freckled self, is a delicate concoction that can easily be spoiled by too much sunlight. Clear glass bottles let in too much light which can affect the chemical compound and flavor of the ingredients inside. The brown and green bottles work to protect the beer from the nasty UV rays, and that’s a little factoid you can save for your next corporate networking event.
The second attribute to a good beer is the label. It needs to speak to you. I work in marketing but I couldn’t tell you what makes a strong beer brand, except for maybe simplicity. And consistency. The less branding changes, the better. It gives the colors, typeface, and the artwork time to marinate in the mind. And a well-marinated brand tastes better. Don’t ask me how, it just does.
Labels I like are Miller Lite, Presidente, Pacifico, Red Stripe, and Carib. But the Carib is served in a clear bottle so I’m torn. Resch’s is good, too. So is the green of Victoria Bitter, bogan connotations aside.
Helping the beer label settle and sear into the nooks and crannies of one’s mind is the advertising behind it. I’m no Ad Man so take my opinion with little more than a grain of barley but beer brands tend to nail advertising.
The contemporary ads we see today are good but the classics are better, and Australian beers have a storied advertising history, which is always a joy to revisit. The jingles, taglines, and comedic value—despite being gendered and outdated—reign supreme.
The stalwarts include the Toohey’s Draught ‘How do you feel?’, Victoria Bitter’s ‘For a Hard Earned Thirst’, and Castlemain XXXX ‘I can feel a XXX comin’ on’ campaigns.
There’s a real element of poetry to these campaigns and I’m not being hyperbolic when I say poetry, either. Take a look for yourself.
On the more modern side, there are some real treasures from Carlton Mid’s ‘Stay a Little Longer’ campaign as well as Carlton Draught’s ‘Made From Beer’. Samples of both below.
The third and final attribute of a good beer is that it needs to feel right in the hand. There’s a comforting reassurance to drinking a cold beer—after a long day, around the grill, or at the beach, etc.—and it’s made all the sweeter by a fitted feel. It’s about finding a bottle with the right contours. Some are short and stout, others long and lean, built for speed.
There’s no hard and fast rule here. I like the stubbies of Red Stripe and VB as equally as I do the stems of Pacifico and Presidente. Whatever the shape, it needs to fit with the brand and the flavor—and I’m sure there’s deeper science behind what works and what doesn’t.
Those three things supersede the flavor of beer if you ask me. And I’m assuming you did, else you wouldn’t have read this far.
It also helps that what you’re looking at while you’re sipping is easy on the eyes, too. Maybe it’s a landscape of sand and surf, a freshly mowed lawn, a bar, a friendly face, a hot pizza, or, heck, maybe it’s just a good lookin’ rooster. It all contributes to the flavor.
And that’s my kind of beer.
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*chef’s kiss*
Allan