Canned beer is nothing new, of course, and in fact, canning technology was one of the things that underlay the consolidation of the industry in the 1950’s-1970’s. Pre-prohibition, all beer was bottled (or sold in growlers). When canning became a viable alternative, (thank you, American Can Company) the larger companies were able to implement it more rapidly- and because of the many advantages of canning over bottling (more on which below,) the macro-brewers were able to get their beer into ever more markets at prices that undersold the local competition, paving the way for the flurry of brewery closings that characterized the era.

But Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme change, and one of the trends in the craft brewing industry today is certainly the return of the can. Why cans? The best reason has to do with preserving an inherently unstable, perishable product. As it happens, cans are superior to bottles in this regard because for one thing, they are opaque. Light is one of beer’s greatest enemies– this is why you are also more likely to get a skunked beer in a green, or especially clear bottle (Newcastle, I’m talking to you) than in a darker brown one. Obviously, the can admits no light at all, and so the risk of skunking is nearly zero. In a similar vein, cans are also a better barrier than bottle-caps when it comes to air–more specifically, oxygen–which again is hazardous to your beer’s health. Oxidation, while actually critical for some styles of beer, is more often a flaw leading to beer that has cardboard-like flavors. As all modern cans are lined, you need not worry about the beer reacting with the metal, either.

The other advantages of canning have more to do with the economic and environmental side of the beer-making industry. As they are lighter, canning reduces shipping costs and as well, associated energy consumption associated with transporting the product. They are more stackable and so take less space, and they cost less to recycle as well. And being shatter-proof (though not entirely impervious to damage), cans are welcome in places where bottles are not- baseball stadiums come to mind, as does the pool and the beach. In weather like we’ve been having, that should easy to relate to. Where else do cans show up? Well, on boats. So, the other day when I was invited to crew on a sailboat, I picked up a few of the offerings from the craft brew world in cans. Here I’ll review but two of the new wave of canned micros.

The first comes from the Sly Fox brewery in PA. One of their beers was featured recently at the Goodbar Goodbeer club, so I went for a different style, their Pikeland Pilsner. Popping the top, every can in the six pack immediately began to fizz over- not typically a good sign, but the beer was certainly not spoiled. Against my instincts (and due to the lack of glass-, or even plastic-ware) I drank it out of the can, so I was unable to fully assess the appearance, but I did pour one out later and found this beer to be bright golden with a very healthy head. Sticking my nose into the can for an aroma evaluation yielded a very faint aroma, driven by hops: a bit of citrus, a bit of hay, overall I’m guessing Saaz but I admit I don’t always nail hop variatals. The flavor of this beer is pilsner through-and-through, starting off with a pleasing hop bitterness which evolves to honey-malt sweetness in the middle and resolves to a light blast of hops at the end, finishing dry and clean. Classic pilsner stuff, solid if sort-of no-frills. I would think this to be a great canned beer to bring to an otherwise Labatt-dominated party: I think you could win a few converts with this one. Indeed, one co-taster–We’ll call her Mrs. Beer-O-Vision–suggested this was little more dry-hopped Budweiser. You can get yours, as I did, for $8.45/six at Consumers- or pay a dollar more at Premier.

More impressive was the flagship Atlantic Amber from Connecticut’s New England Brewing Company. Here again, I had previously checked out one of their other offerings, the Sea Hag IPA, and found it to be delightful. Atlantic Amber, billed as an award-winning (in 1993, no less- I bet they weren’t canning back then!) alt-style beer, is eminently tasty. The color of this beer is a beautiful amber-tinged shade of light brown, and it tops off (had a glass handy by this time) with a full three-fingers of foam that reduced in short order but left substantial lacing down the glass. In terms of aroma, the predominant smell is that of sweet Munich malt, only touched by hops. Appropriately, the flavor is largely malt as well- the front is thin but the middle builds to a slightly nutty malt tone and it finishes sweet and slightly bitter, just enough to balance. A wee bit of yeast-derived esters can be detected, owing to the fact that this is indeed an lager, but brewed “steam style,” that is, at ale temperatures and with a strain of ale yeast that can handle the higher fermentation temps without getting all Belgian on ya. I really liked this multi-dimensional beer, and while the ABV is not given, it drinks like something in the 4.5-5 range, making it a great session choice.

So, there’s a pair of canned (or “tinned”, if you’re British) beers for you, both worth exploring. Other companies canning their beer include NYS’s own Butternuts and Brooklyn’s Brooklyn Lager, and from Colorado, Oskar Blues’ Old Chub and Dale’s Pale Ale. For further reading, excellent synopses of the advent of canning can be found here and here

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