Categories
marketing

Brand codes and beer packaging

How is it possible to see an own-brand beer and know which mainstream product it is intended to replace in your basket? That’s the power of ‘brand codes’.

Brand codes are the colours, shapes, words and iconography companies use to help you notice and recognise their products.

A rule of thumb we’ve heard is that you ought to be able to recognise a brand if two or more of its codes are present.

That’s why we know a can contains Coke, even without the name – because it has that shade of red and that white ribbon, for example.

The flipside of this is that you only need to rip off two or three brand codes to signal to buyers that own-brand product X is similar to, and just as good as, the real thing.

The most recent triumph from Aldi is a lager design to evoke Carling and also Coors Light – both produced for the UK market by Molson-Coors.

The brand codes ‘Carters’ borrows from Carling include:

  • the mostly-white can
  • the black accent colour
  • an angular font with a broken A
  • brewed in Britain
  • the two-syllable name starting with ‘Car’
  • geometric stripes and slashes
  • the general layout

Then, from Coors, we have:

  • the mountain
  • the pale blue accent colour
  • the mostly white can

There’s also, perhaps, a bit of Carling Premier, the nitro variant, in the mix.

When we asked people on social media platform BlueSky which brand they thought Carters was designed to bring to mind everyone said Carling and/or Coors.

Cans of 1897 Brasserie Lager and a bottle of Grande Spanish Lager, both from Aldi. They're described in the text below.
SOURCE: Aldi.

Brasserie 1867, Grande and Shark Bay

There are others in Aldi’s current beer range, too.

Brasserie French Style Lager 1867 borrows its blue can, prominent historic date, red accent colour, and general Frenchness from Kronenbourg 1664 (Carlsberg).

Grande Spanish Lager is clearly inspired by Madrí (Molson Coors) with a mostly red label, line illustration of a retro-hipster bloke with facial hair, a very similar font and a name that’s sort of half rhymes with Madrí.

Bottles of Hatherwood Shark Bay with a label design that clearly evokes Sharp's Doom Bar.

One of our favourite examples is Shark Bay Amber Ale from Lidl, usually displayed alongside bottles of Sharp’s (Molson Coors) Doom Bar.

This one is so similar that we can imagine someone picking up a bottle by mistake, if they don’t pay close attention.

Some of it is quite subtle, though: the silver shark sits in about the same place as the silver Sharp’s logo; Shark sounds a bit like Sharp’s; and the word ‘bay’ in all capitals looks, at a glance, like the word ‘bar’.

Craft beer brands are, of course, not immune from having their brand codes hinted at. Aldi has two beers clearly inspired by, and designed to evoke, BrewDog.

Anti-Establishment IPA is a hilariously literal take on Punk IPA, hinting at the original with the typography, the various shades of blue, and text highlighting that it is brewed in Scotland.

And Memphis Blvd, a grapefruit IPA, does the same for Brewdog’s Elvis Juice.

Brand codes into category codes

If brand codes are about helping you spot individual products (or recognise bargain knock-offs of the same) then category codes are designed to signal which shelf a beer should sit on.

In 2024, craft beer codes tend to be things like:

  • indie-style cartoon illustrations
  • vibrant colours, gradients and patterns
  • on-trend style-magazine typography
  • abstract, poetic, quirky names
  • cans over bottles

While trad ale codes might be:

  • ‘heritage’ colours and tones
  • shields, crests and heraldic symbols
  • details in gold or silver foil
  • simpler, more straightforward names
  • or nostalgic ‘heritage’ names
  • bottles over cans

What confused things a few years ago was when brewers in the second category started borrowing codes from the first category in an attempt to muscle into that growing market.

That can be a problem when the beer in the would-be trendy can doesn’t match the expectation set by those codes.

And now we also have craft brewers borrowing ‘trad’ codes to help people understand where their new milds, bitters and porters fit into the scheme of things.

Main image sources: Aldi (Carter’s) and Molson Coors (Carling and Coors Light).

Categories
News

News, nuggets and longreads 16 November 2024: From the Old Earth

Every Saturday we round-up the best writing about beer and pubs from the past week. This time we’ve got Landlord, Norwich, and more.

First, some news. Thomas Hardy Ale is one of those renowned, revered beers that is nonetheless not in regular production. It comes and goes every few years, under new stewardship. The latest vintage is available in the UK as a partnership between Italian outfit Interbrau S.P.A. and distributor James Clay.


A Timothy Taylor branded pub in Haworth, Yorkshire.

Rachel Hendry has written a long, thoughtful piece about the cult cask ale Landlord from Keighley brewery Timothy Taylor:

Landlord requires at least 48 hours of cellaring before it can be served—Tim even suggests leaving it a week. Once begun, the cask is only good to pour for about three days, time becomes the fifth ingredient… The cellar has a choice, it can become a place of transformation, or a place of ruin. Casks put on too quick, or served for too long, can leave a sour taste in a person’s mouth. The name Timothy Taylor becomes forever associated with a bad pint. It is a supply chain of trust, the production of real ale. A brewery reaches out to a pub and asks: will all my work be for nothing at your hands?


Beer taps at the Samuel Jones, Exeter.

For Bon Appétit Kate Bernot has written about the decline in draught beer drinking in the wake of the pandemic:

For Gen Zers who turned 21 during the pandemic’s shutdowns, staying home became the default social mode… The decline in draft beer is a decades-long story, though COVID-19’s temporary closure of bars and restaurants accelerated the pace of those losses. On a national scale, data company Draftline Technologies estimates between 7 and 13% of all draft lines are empty—installed and ready, but not dispensing any beer. If trends continue, draft beer could become a novelty, or perhaps, a relic.

(We were able to read the story the first time we clicked through, but then it disappeared behind a paywall. Here’s an alternate link via MSN.)


An ordinary looking pub on a high street at night.
The Lord Clyde, Bradford. SOURCE: Chris Dyson.

Chris Dyson has shared more notes from his pub crawling around northern towns, this time reporting from Bradford, which is another place we’ve had on our to-visit list for years:

The Lord Clyde is situated on the corner with Tetley Street, which is somewhat appropriate as it became a Tetleys pub in 1959 when the Leeds brewery took over the local William Whitakers brewery, who’d actually stopped brewing in 1928 and had subsequently sold Tetleys’ beers in their pub estate.  The pub is named after Field Marshal Colin Campbell, 1st Baron Clyde, a British Army officer born in 1792, who was a key figure in the 19th century Opium wars and became a hero of the Indian mutiny when he commanded the British forces in India. There is no evidence to suggest he ever had any connections with Bradford, but as was the way in Victorian times many pubs were named in honour of famous military figures. And elsewhere in the country there are other pubs called Lord Clyde, or Sir Colin Campbell, as he was before he was given his peerage in 1858… I liked the Lord Clyde too; it was fun, it was friendly, a happy place.


Two pints of dark beer on pub counter with cask handpumps behind.
Beer in Norwich. SOURCE: The Beer Nut.

Irish blogger The Beer Nut has provided another of his detailed observations of the English scene, reporting from Norwich, where he enjoyed, or at least encountered, a lot of cask ale:

It was CAMRA’s turn to host the autumn meeting of the European Beer Consumers Union this year, and the powers that be in that august institution picked Norfolk as the destination. It’s famous for its barley, you know. The county town of Norwich also has plenty of beery attractions, including lots of very pleasant pubs. Why, you’d nearly think you were up north… Reuben and I didn’t have to stray too far from our Premier Inn to find our first one: The Rumsey Wells, owned by the Adnams brewery. I’m a longtime fan, and this was my first time drinking on their home turf. On cask, unusually, was a Landbier that Adnams has brewed in collaboration with Londoners Five Points, called Distant Fields. It’s copper coloured and has what is for me the signature Adnams taste: dry tannins with immense thirst-quenching power. There’s a little noble-hop character alongside this; some dried grass and aromatic herbs, but it didn’t do much else to convince me it’s a German-style beer. The flavour, a full body, and low-level cask carbonation made it seem far more like a high quality bitter to me. That’s fine. It’s what I’d want in an Adnams pub.


A mostly empty pub with carpets and fairy lights.
The Royal Cheriton, Cheriton. SOURCE: Ron Pattinson.

Ron Pattinson has also been on the ground in England, drinking in pubs in Kent and is worried about the health of the English pub:

First night there, Thursday, we went to the Royal Cheriton on Cheriton High Street. Three customers. A mother and her ten-year-old daughter, dressed for Halloween, and an old chav in a corner nursing a pint. When we left after a couple of pints, we were the last customers. I’ve never seen the pub that quiet at any time of day… Next day, Friday, we’re in Dover for some shopping. (At Iceland, don’t judge me.) A new shopping centre close to the docks. I notice a pub right next to it and think “That’s a bit of luck for that boozer, having a load of shops built right next to it.”… Mikey has something to do, so I think what I always think when I have a free moment and there’s a pub nearby: “Let’s give that pub a try.”… Totally deserted…

(Chav, Ron says, is a traditional alternative for ‘bloke’ in Newark on Trent where he grew up, rather than a pejorative term.)

It’s worth saying that we, and others, have observed a realignment: pubs in town are often busier on Thursday than Friday, because people choose to work from home, in the suburbs, on Fridays. But, yes, we’ve also seen some very quiet pubs in the past year or two.


Finally, from social media, a worrying update that suggests things are not changing where they need to change:

Just heard about two brewers being very inappropriate with women at a beer festival recently (one incident is definitely sexual assault). I wonder why I haven't attended a single beer festival this year. Disgusting.

— Anaïs Lecoq  (@anahlcq.bsky.social) November 15, 2024 at 7:11 PM

For more good reading check out Stan Hieronymus’s round-up from Monday and Alan McLeod’s from Thursday.

Categories
20th Century Pub bristol pubs

The slow death of a Bristol estate pub

We never knew, or never noticed, The Mayors Arms, one of Bristol’s few surviving post war buildings. And now it’s set for demolition.

Actually, we did notice it – just not before 2009 when it was converted into a restaurant.

In its most recent guise as Sousta, a “Mediterranean restaurant and bar”, it intrigued us because it never seemed to have any customers. Ever.

Its location, at the bottom end of a large council estate, on the river embankment, offers little passing trade. There are no other shops or hospitality outlets nearby.

In fact, the only business that could really work here is a neighbourhood pub in a working class area where people drink plenty of beer.

And that’s what Redcliffe was in February 1964 when this version of the pub opened. Here’s how it was described in a report in the Evening Post:

A three-storey building of striking appearance, this modern Bass-Worthington house has a spacious lounge and bar and an off-sales shop on the ground floor. In the summer a paved terrace off the forecourt will assume a Continental atmosphere with flowers and shrubs, and tables fitted with sun umbrellas… The Avon Lounge, following the trend of modern public-house design, is an attractive room, tastefully decorated, luxuriously carpeted and discreetly lit. The main part of the room has concealed trough lighting at ceiling level. In addition, spotlights pick out the bar counter and service area, opposite which is a 32 foot long photo-mural showing something of the activity at Bristol docks. The Redcliffe Bar is also decorated and furnished in modern style and affords a high standard of appearance and comfort. Concealed lighting, similar to that installed in the lounge, adds much to the general atmosphere.

This new building replaced an older pub of the same name on the same site which was demolished in 1963 as part of the post-war redevelopment of the entire area.

If you happen to be interested in that, Ray wrote about it in more detail for the zine Brutal Bristol edited by Tom Benjamin. We’ve also put that article up on Patreon for subscribers to read.

In short, though, this was a flagship development for Bristol Council after World War II as they sought to (a) rebuild a badly blitzed city and (b) move the population from crumbling Victorian terraces into modern homes and tower blocks.

A Victorian corner pub built into a row of terraced houses.
SOURCE: The Simonds Family website.

The old Mayors Arms did, it has to be said, look rather more appealing than the new one. If it had survived the post-war reconstruction phase it would no doubt be sitting there now looking quaint and rather appealing.

There’s a nice human story attached to the 1963 demolition, however.

When regulars at the old pub heard the news they immediately raised a petition to have the brewery put the publicans, Mr and Mrs Jones, in charge of the new one.

But, as the Evening Post reported, “Bass, however, had already decided Mr and Mrs Jones were the right people for the job.”

Checking in 1975, thanks to Fred Pearce’s Bristol pub guide, we get a little more detail:

Two long modern bars with spacious lounges set out dining room fashion. Piano and darts but neither are used much. Takes coach parties and locals from the nearby flats. Coffee is served in the morning. Full range of food at lunchtime. Full Bass beer range (no real beer though), a bit expensive. ‘Music while you work’ muzak horribly obtrusive.

The story of this particular estate pub isn’t much different to that of many others.

The newspaper archives have “under new management” announcements and proud talk of refurbishment.

They also have this story from the Bristol Evening Post in July 1986:

A man needed hospital treatment for cuts and a back injury after being attacked by a group of ten to 15 youths at the Mayor’s Arms, in Redcliffe, Bristol. One of the ringleaders was described as being white, in his middle twenties, slim, wearing a white T-shirt with the motif “I’m an alcoholic.”

Because it wasn’t especially remarkable, just another unfashionable estate pub, the trail runs cold until this entry at Pubs Galore from 2009:

Closed, emptied of fixtures & fittings and the builders are in knocking down walls etc. A roughly drawn notice outside says it’s to become an Indian Restaurant.

Now, it’s set to become “student cluster flats”, and that’s that.

When you see an estate pub, do take a second to have a look, and maybe take a photograph, because the chances are it’ll be gone before the decade is out.

Categories
pubs

We’re very much here for Hereford

One of the great things about The Drapers Arms is that we made friends there – the type who say: “Do you want to do a daytrip to Hereford?”

Jess had been to Hereford as a small child on a family holiday. She remembers the Mappa Mundi in the cathedral and that’s about it.

Ray had never been and his only point of reference was Robert De Niro yelling at Sean Bean in Ronin: “What’s the colour of the boathouse at Hearford!?”

It’s an interesting place – an historic cathedral city on the river Wye, with a few cute little streets and a general sense of being in the borderlands. Are you in the Midlands, the West Country, or Wales? We heard accents from all three while we were there and it’s also reflected in its drinking culture.

Our friends had drawn up an itinerary and we were pleased to see that the two pubs we’d identified as must-visits were also top of the organiser’s agenda.

(How had we identified them? By reviewing Retired Martin’s blog, obviously.)

An old-fashioned pub with a dartboard, lots of small tables, and pictures on the walls.
The Barrels, Hereford.

The Barrels sent out all the right vibes immediately: wonky building, carpet in the bar, dartboard, red upholstered benches, and so on. The bar staff were passionate about, and proud of, their full range of Wye Valley beer. “Start at this end and work your way along, would be my advice,” said one regular. “Though you might need an ambulance to get home.”

We frequently see Butty Bach and HPA in Bristol but there were some beers here we hadn’t encountered ever, or for years. Bitter and Wholesome Stout grabbed our attention in particular. The former was nutty and almost like a light mild, the latter a delightful swirl of coffee and cream. It felt quite decadent at only 4.6%.

The prices were a pleasant change from Bristol too: £5.85 got us a pint and half of beer in excellent condition. And the seasonal special was being advertised at £3.90 a pint.

We were there just after opening time and there were already a few people getting settled. Most of them were drinking bitter as far as we could tell. We could have happily settled in for the afternoon but there were other places we needed to be.

A pint of cask Bass in a Bass branded glass.
Perfect Bass at The Lichfield Vaults.

We stopped for lunch at The Lichfield Vaults which also had a tempting old skool beer range, including Bass and Timothy Taylor Landlord. We had one of each. The Landlord was very good and the Bass was damn near perfect: cool, lively, intriguingly funky.

The Orange Tree is a Black Country Ales pub and perhaps has a wider role as embassy for the Black Country. The people behind the bar and half the customers had strong Midlands accents. There were Black Country Ales on the pumps and Kath’s homemade cobs in the chiller. (£3 and, as one of our companions kept saying, “bigger than my head”.)

We enjoyed Pig on the Wall, the Black Country Ales mild, as well as a great pint of Hopback Summer Lightning.

After that, we needed to sober up, and so went sightseeing while our party broke up to (a) go to a football match or (b) drink wine. We nosed around the cathedral, looked at a statue of Edward Elgar, regarded an old barn, climbed into the roof of a church to look at an obscene carving, and then pottered along the river.

As they day grew dimpsy we rendezvoused at Beer in Hand near the football ground. (Pictured at the top of this post.)

It looks and feels like a micropub, except it’s massive, and has a bunch of bottles, cans and keg beer. It’s another of those hybrids we identified here, we suppose.

We didn’t fancy the two cask ales, one of which was from Bristol, of course, and the keg beers seemed to mostly be hazy pales – which, again, we get plenty of at home.

So, we went for Helles Lager by Burnt Mill. We enjoyed it as an example of an English craft lager rather than a particularly authentic example of the style.

We should perhaps also point out that Herefordshire is also cider country. Most pubs had interesting cider available, often quite a range, and the town even has its own cider museum. But we’ll save that for another trip.

Categories
News

News, nuggets and longreads 9 November 2024: Ripley’s Game

Every Saturday we round up the best writing about beer from the past week. This time we’ve got Berliner Weisse, suburban pubs and jugs of Bass.

We usually start these round-ups with a single piece of beer-related news but this state of the industry read-out from Jessica Mason at The Drinks Business is all the news, effectively, synthesised and summarised:

If brewers had a crystal ball, they’d have thrown it in the mill by now: 2024 was meant to be the year when beer regained ground, not a time of closure and brand resale… But the issues have been complicated, and not only because rising costs are clearly in direct opposition to developing prosperous businesses, but also because survival has now become a bit of a game of predicting how the beer world is changing. And then doing what is necessary by leaning into it…

The phrase we heard earlier in the year was “Survive ‘til 25” summarising the attitude of many brewers. Fingers crossed.


A 1930s Art Deco pub with white rendering against a blue sky.
The Crown in Nottingham. SOURCE: Dermot Kennedy/Pub Gallery.

When we see that Dermot Kennedy has published another of his heavily-illustrated pub history posts, we clap our hands in delight. The third part of his series on Art Deco pubs arrived this week with a focus on suburban pubs:

Nottingham has no fewer than 7 art deco pubs and in the Crown Hotel includes one that was possibly the first to be built in the moderne style anywhere in the UK. W.B. Starr & E.B.H. Hall had established themselves as the city’s main pub architects and had built or rebuilt twenty or so in the 1920s and early 1930s. None had been art deco, but in 1933 they designed the Crown Hotel for Home Brewery in a striking moderne style. The style was already common in cinemas, and was starting to make an impact on factories, housing and hotels but until now had not been applied to pubs.


The Berliner Kindl Weisse logo.

Let the rejoicing continue! All About Beer has published an actual article, with actual text, instead of expecting us to listen to podcast episodes. Adrian Tierney-Jones went to Berlin in search of Berliner Weisse and… didn’t find much, actually:

It was reminiscent of a travel assignment to Leipzig when I excitedly told a hotel receptionist that I wanted to try Gose. His reaction was a quizzical smile and the word ‘Why?’… “Why” is a good word to describe the predicament of Berliner Weisse. Why is it such a minority style in its home city, especially as independent brewers around the world, including the United Kingdom, United States, Italy and even Taiwan, have made one?… For Oli Lemke, who started the eponymous brewery in 1999, it is almost obligatory for a Berlin brewer to produce a Berliner Weisse. There are more than 100 breweries in the city but it seems like Lemke is only one of three producing the style. The other two are Schneeeule and Berliner Berg, who according to their website have brought in a ‘newly brewed’ version of the style.


A pub in a railway arch with railway-style signgage.
Wigan Central, Wigan. SOURCE: Chris Dyson/Real Ale, Real Music.

Blimey, Wigan looks like a good day out! Chris Dyson has written about his crawl around the pubs of the Greater Manchester (formerly Lancashire) town which was nearly scuppered by the first pub being too good:

Just around the corner, occupying a couple of arches in the railway bridge on which sits part of Wigan’s other railway station, North Western, is the suitably railway-themed Wigan Central. I had called in here last time before getting the train home and remembered a good bar with a good atmosphere, then run by the former Prospect Brewery who were based in the town and a number of their beers had been available alongside a few guest ales. This time, with the house beer now brewed by Bank Top, several guests on hand pump on tap were augmented by several more as this current Wigan CAMRA Pub of the Year was hosting an Autumn Beer Festival! A second bar featuring hand pumps with a wall of keg beers was set up in the far room, I ordered a pint of the 3.4% It Belongs In A Museum on hand pump, a predictably very good pale ale from Sureshot (NBSS 3.5). I surveyed the festival beer list; there were some very good beers included on both cask and keg. This was not what I needed…


A red brick village pub with weatherboarding on one part of the building.
The Swan, West Peckham. SOURCE: Paul Bailey/Bailey’s Beer Blog.

Our 2017 book 20th Century Pub has a chapter about community-owned pubs. We were, and are, fascinated by what motivates people to invest in, or play a part in running, their local pub. So the latest post on Paul Bailey’s blog (no relation) grabbed our attention with the title ‘We bought a pub’:

Even without the house-brewed beers the Swan [at West Peckham] is a destination pub in its own right, given its attractive location on the village green, at the crossroads of the Weald and Greensand ways… Despite this illustrious trading record, and in spite of the Swan remaining a successful pub and popular restaurant, the decision taken, just over a year ago by the current owner and licensee Gordon Milligan, to sell up and leave the trade after 24 years at the helm, sent shock waves through the tight-knit local community. Fortunately, rather than seek to convert it into housing, Mr Milligan approached the villagers and asked if they wanted to take the pub on. Their answer was a resounding “yes”, so a steering group was set up with the aim of purchasing the building collectively for the village… I’m now the proud owner of 250 shares in the Swan Community Project Ltd.


A black dog lying on the wooden floor of an old-fashioned pub.
The Star Inn, Bath. SOURCE: Martin Taylor/retiredmartin.com

Martin Taylor has been in Bath and makes a passionate case for The Star Inn as one of the wonders of the world:

Now, let it be said I always speak the truth. On first sip, this flat Bass wasn’t as softly stunning as 2 years ago, when I rated it in my Top 5 pints of all time (only 26 in that)… But the Star itself just felt otherworldly… The symphony in brown and red played out around us… Folks, there are people who profess to like pubs and beer who have never been here!

It’s interesting that one of the commenters refers to it as a “tourist trap”. It isn’t. For one thing, it’s not especially friendly towards tourists, and is quite a way from the bits of town where tourists hang out. We also insist on the distinction between tourist attraction (a thing you should see, that has a purpose and existence outside tourism, like the Hofbräuhaus) versus a tourist trap – something that only exists for the purpose of fleecing rubes, like Madame Tussaud’s.


Finally, from BlueSky, a very pretty glass of beer indeed…

Draft Stille Nacht 2019 at 't Brugs Beertje. Absolutely sensational, and far better than when fresh five years ago. Cheers! 🍻 🇧🇪

[image or embed]

— Jezza (@bonsvoeux1.bsky.social) November 8, 2024 at 5:10 PM

For more good reading check out Stan Hieronymus’s round-up from Monday and Alan McLeod’s from Thursday.