An Alberta beer? One restaurant wants us to think so.
A reader of this website was in Red Deer recently and stopped in at a new restaurant, State and Main (which also has a location in Lethbridge and soon in Winnipeg and Saskatoon). Having not been there myself, I am not entirely sure of the concept, but their website says they are “trendy” and “urban-inspired”. Nor am I in a position to comment on the quality of the food, the decor or any other aspect of the place.
What I can tell you is the beer list has 18 taps and 31 in the bottle/can. For the most part the tap list is nothing special, but it does list a few interesting beer, including Mill Street, Tree Thirsty Beaver, Barking Squirrel. The bottle list is quite anemic, only offering Steam Whistle and a couple more Mill Street as beer of note.
None of this would be post-worthy, except that the hawk-eyed reader noted something about the tap list and sent me a photo of it. I have since found an online version, which is slightly different, but reveals the same issue. Take a look here.
See it?
They list each beer’s location. For example, Moosehead is New Brunswick, Dead Frog B.C. and Mill Street Ontario. Okay, pretty straightforward stuff. Except for the listings for two (and a third in the original photo) – Stroh’s is listed as B.C., Rolling Rock as Alberta, and (in the photo) Shock Top also as Alberta.
Hmmm.
I could be horribly wrong, but I am pretty sure none of those beer are produced in the locations listed in the menu (or at most the occasional “overflow” batch when demand is high). The main product for the Edmonton Labatt plant is Bud Light with some Wildcat, Blue and other smaller product. The Creston plant makes Kokanee and (believe it or not) Alexander Keith’s – pride of Nova Scotia (??).
Sure, this is a simple example of the managers not understanding beer enough to properly build a beer menu. Irritating but not the end of the world. A reason to gently rebuke the owners of State and Main – which appears to be the Original Joe’s franchise owners, by the way (they seem to share the same head office, a pretty good clue usually) – but it is fairly small potatoes.
Except it got me thinking. How should we indicate the origins of beer? For a small, independently-owned craft brewery with only one location that answer is pretty easy – the city/town where it is located. But what do we do when either the beer is brewed in multiple locations (e.g. Bud Light) or the brewery is owned by someone else (e.g. Unibroue or even Barking Squirrel)?
For me the latter question is fairly straightforward, but with some potential pitfalls. In general ownership is distinct from brewing origin. To use the Unibroue example, they are owned out of Japan but (I believe) all of their product is made at the Chambly brewery in Quebec. They are Quebec beer with a Quebec identity.
But what about Alexander Keith’s? It used to be (mostly) brewed in Halifax, but no longer. It seems to me it can no longer be called a Nova Scotia beer, despite its geographic branding. But what location does it come from? A question that becomes even more perplexing when dealing with international brands like Coors and Bud. Even the country of origin is problematic. Bud is an American beer, but brewed in Edmonton for our market. Does that make it local, American or something else. Plus, not every single can of Bud consumed in Edmonton is made in Edmonton – the advantage of large corporations is their ability ship production and distribution around as needed.
My initial thoughts on the matter are that being able to clearly know and understand, without complication, where a beer originates and how its geographic origin should be labelled is a further defining feature of “craft”. If it is impossible to discern exactly “where” this beer comes from, it loses its craft moniker. Of course, I suspect it will have long since lost the title anyway for other reasons, but the point stands.
However, one final complication remains. What if Big Rock opens a second brewery in B.C., or Mill Street decides to set up an operation in Alberta? What do we label them, then? Here is where my point in the paragraph above is useful. It will depend on how they handle it. Do they clearly demarcate for the consumer which beer was brewed where? Is the brewery for regional distribution only (and thus duplicating products from the brewery), or are beer shipped around the country from each brewery?
A craft brewer would be clear where a specific bottle is made, and the consumer will know where it came from. If the theoretical Mill Street Alberta brewery (and, to be clear, I have heard nothing about any plans for that – so don’t spread any stupid rumours) sold its beer in the west as being brewed in Alberta – it would rightfully be called Alberta beer when consumed here. If, however, they were to choose to brew some brands in Alberta, others in Ontario and ship them around, things get messy and therefore they would be treading on dangerous ground, in my opinion. (This example is not to pick on the good folks at Mill Street – they are just an illustration.)
All that said, it still makes me frustrated when I see botch-up jobs like the State and Main beer menu. Despite how far we have come, we have so far to go.
October 17, 2012 at 2:11 PM
I recall first encountering this years ago, before my taste in beer really developed, with Guinness; there were a number of different ways to figure out where the batch you were buying was brewed, but they all had to do with slight differences in packaging because Labbatt knew perfectly well they wouldn’t sell a drop if it was labelled as being made anywhere outside Ireland. Similarly, no doubt, for Keith’s, and you can bet they’d fight tooth and nail against a labelling requirement. And probably win, if history is any guide.
It’s the sort of thing it never really occurs to you to worry about until you see a company being deceptive about it.
October 18, 2012 at 3:19 PM
I like this article a lot, because it’s a difficult question to answer. Rolling Rock is still heavily identified with the “glass-lined tanks of old Latrobe”, but it’s no longer made there (they do use some fancy language to excuse this stretching of the truth). Using that example, I prefer explicit clarity–as in your Alexander Keith’s example–since the point of origin is solely a marketing fabrication. The same was true when Labatt’s launched Kokanee in Ontario for the first time, with marketing heavily-laden with mountain spring water references, yet it was being brewed in London, Ontario with Lake Huron water. So I prefer clarity where the truth is at odds with marketing.
I also prefer truth on package about point of origin to help aid customers when a recall is issued. Most Big Beer products simply list on label all the places they brew, which allows them to simply apply the same label province over province–and while there are codes to ferret out the truth, I don’t find those codes very consumer-friendly. It would make things easier if the point of origin was noted clearly. And that’s easy to do (but more costly, from a labelling perspective).
Local beer is, for me, beer brewed locally. With Labatt’s in Edmonton there is a great deal of pride, I’m sure, those workers feel enjoying the fruit of their labour–as well they should. Their hard work should be noted on the beer they make.
Using your Mill Street example, but applying complete clarity, I don’t see it as dangerous ground should said hypothetical breweries share brewing duties. They should note where the brands are made–save if the whole line-up is brewed at both facilities–and be happy that they are so well-positioned to deliver fresh beer and employment within an exciting trade. Would it be a problem if the beer was no longer brewed on Mill Street, as it once was?
A brand is a brand–and while Guinness has worked hard to build the mythology around their original brewery, I don’t think that’s all for naught–but I do think they should be clear about where they brew. The American constitution was drafted in Philadelphia but is widely used and accepted–and I would argue is considered native–to all States in the Union. It isn’t considered more authentic in Philadelphia than elsewhere.
Rogue is perhaps a good example of having a first spiritual home of their brand, which they celebrate; but their HQ and export brewing happen elsewhere. They haven’t abandoned their origins–they’ve just been honest about success.
The biggest problem we’ll face as Steam Whistle, is water. Water is the most regional ingredient about any beer, and should we ever build a brewery elsewhere, I have a good idea we won’t be shipping water across too many miles. Will that impact the flavour of our Pilsner brewed elsewhere? I would be surprised if it didn’t! Would it make beer brewed outside the Roundhouse without water drawn from Caledon some way inferior? Again–I’d say a resounding NO. To the afficiando, it might be an interesting experiment: to taste one Steam Whistle from water supply A with another from water supply B. I know our Brewmaster Marek is quite particular about the qualities of our water, and know that he would take similar care to discover a local supply with similar qualities–but it’s the X factor that is nearly impossible to replicate.
So–my vote is always for clarity. The marketeers hold too much sway over the message, and I care too deeply about clarity to let marketing get in the way.
October 19, 2012 at 3:10 PM
Over ten years ago, I toured the Budweiser plant in St. Louis out of curiosity and am glad I did, very impressive factory. At the end of the tour, they asked for questions and so I asked how do you become a Anheuser-Busch master brewer. The guide gave the usual spiel but then added an interesting fact; the final test is to taste a glass of Budwieser from the 5 different locations it was brewed (at the time)and correctly state where each glass of beer was brewed. Obviously water makes a big difference, if people can actually pass that test. So,my thoughts are that, a beer’s brewery of origin should be wherever the water comes from.