[audio:http://www.wdde.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/TheGreen-10102014-EnlightenMe-BeerNames.mp3|titles= Delaware Public Media's Tom Byrne and contributor Pam George discuss how craft breweries develop beer names and labels.]
When Sam Calagione started Dogfish Head as a brewpub in 1995, there were 600 breweries. Today there are more than 3,000, and the craft beer movement is expected to grow 16.8 percent in 2014, according to business researcher and analyst IBISWorld.
In such a crowded marketplace, standing out takes more than a great product. It also requires a distinctive name and a memorable label. “It’s part of the brand differentiation,” Calagione said.
No doubt attendees at this weekend’s Delaware Wine and Beer Festival at the Delaware Agricultural Museum in Dover, will notice more than a few whimsical names and labels. Most Delaware breweries keep it clean. But in alehouses like Two Stones Pub, which has three Delaware-area locations, a few beer names raise will eyebrows before they open wallets.
“It’s really remarkable the stuff that gets through,” said Don Russell, who writes the Joe Sixpack column for the Philadelphia Daily News. “There are drug references and sexual references.” And there’s plenty of whimsy.
Style, substance and a story
Some beers simply tell it like it is, which gets a boost if the beer is unique. Consider Dogfish Head’s 60 Minute IPA, which undergoes more than 60 hop additions over a 60-minute boil to produce a “hoppier” flavor. (Hops affect the balance of bitterness and sweetness in a beer.)
Since craft breweries are often rooted in a locale, many play off the area. Iron Hill Brewery & Restaurant – whose flagship restaurant is in Newark near Iron Hill, where Welsh settlers once mined – has poured Pig Iron Porter from its start in 1996. Twin Lakes Brewing Company in Greenville offers the Route 52 Pilsner, the Caesar Rodney Golden Ale and Winterthur Spring Wheat.
3rd Wave Brewing Company in Delmar is close enough to the coast to capitalize on the beach. Owners Lori Clough and Susan Vickers were surfers “back in the good old days” before brewing became a business, Clough said. The brewery turns out
Shoreline, a honey-ginger cream ale, 1st Wave IPA and Big Reef Porter.
In Georgetown, 16 Mile Brewery – named for the town’s claim that it’s “16 miles from anywhere in Sussex County – offers Blues’ Golden Ale, named for the Delaware Blues who fought in the Revolution; Tiller Brown Ale, which pays homage to area farmers; and Old Court Ale, named for the county’s old courthouse.
Tongue in Cheek
Labels with a recognized landmark or name will appeal to Delawareans, ex-pats and tourists who’d rather visit a brewery than a museum. But they won’t push the envelope, which is what piques the interest of the craft beer consumer who made the counterculture mainstream – and there are many.
According to market research Mintel, beer drinkers between 21 and 35 are more likely to favor craft beer than people 36 to 47. Craft beers appeal to 49 percent of Millennials and 40 percent of Gen Xers, but only 29 percent of baby boomers.
The average consumer has grown up with tattoos, piercings and music festivals featuring craft breweries. “There’s a definitely a crossover between artists, musicians and craft brews,” Russell said.
Dogfish Head recently saluted indie rock band Guided by Voices with the imperial lager BEER Thousand. (It has 10 grains and 10 hop varieties, and it has a 10 percent ABV.) It’s featured the work of local artists on its labels.
Ho-hum won’t do for avant-garde fans or cutting-edgee brewers. “There are a lot of breweries out there that say, ‘We want to do something outrageous,’” said Brett McCrea, co-owner of 16 Mile. “Brewers want to be edgy.”
16 Mile swerved left with its Seed-Free & Joy watermelon blond ale. In case you missed the riff off Las Vegas entertainers Siegfried & Roy, there’s a tiger eating a watermelon on the marketing materials.
Bel Air, Maryland-based DuClaw Brewing Company named its chocolate-peanut butter porter Sweet Baby Jesus! Flying Dog Brewery in Frederick, Maryland, sells Raging Bitch, a Belgian-style IPA, and Pearl Necklace Oyster Stout. Mispillion River Brewing in Milford recently began canning Reach Around IPA.
Sexual innuendo sells and so does a sexy label. Dover-based Dominion Brewing Company, part of Fordham, has a World War II-era pinup series featuring buxom ladies on labels for Double D IPA, Candi Belgian Tripel, Abbey Ale (which features an attractive nun) and GiGi’s Farmhouse Ale.
But innuendo doesn’t always work. Dogfish Head once released a continually hopped imperial pilsner with hints of citrus named Golden Shower. “We heard from customers that it was juvenile and inappropriate,” Calagione said. “They loved our creativity but felt it was a little crass.” The pilsner was later released as My Antonia, named for the Willa Cather novel.
The gatekeeper
When beers go to market, label approval is in the hands of one man: Kent “Battle” Martin, who works for the Tax and Trade Bureau, part of the Treasury Department.
Martin focuses on misleading or false advertising. The beer label for King of Hearts was rejected because the heart graphic implied a heart-healthy product. He rejected a Danish beer with a hamburger on the label because the product had no meat in it. India Dark Ale, a takeoff on the IPA (India Pale Ale) style, implied that the product was made in India. It was Danish.
Beers that don’t require packaging or labels – such as products offered in brewpubs – have freer reign, which extends beyond suggestive wording. With a limited-release product, brewers worry less about conflicts with similarly named products on the market.
“If we feel like it’s going to be an established product, we start to think about a trademark, which is a hot issue in craft brewing,” said Mark Edelson, director of brewery operations for Iron Hill.
Dogfish Head, which spends thousands of dollars each year protecting its own trademarks, starts with a Google search and looks up the proposed name on the sites RateBeer and BeerAdvocate. If nothing turns up, the name undergoes a trademark search.
The creative process
With so many beers on the market and only so many words, naming a beer is becoming difficult, brewers agree.
Dogfish Head starts with the recipe. Then Calagione turns to the running list of potential names he keeps on his iPhone. Some are just, well, cool. Namaste is a customary greeting in Hindi. It’s also the name of Dogfish’s Witbier, made with dried organic orange slices, fresh-cut lemongrass and coriander.
Once it’s named, the idea goes to in-house designers, unless it is a collaboration, in which case the partner, such as Guided by Voices, may have input.
At Iron Hill, brewers at each location come up with names for seasonal or limited-release beers, submitted to Edelson for review. Suggestive names are tossed. Iron Hill is also a family-friendly restaurant. Even without the titillation, if a beer has a catchy name, Edelson said, it sells better. “It gets people to try the beer.” He points to Rye of the Tiger, a rye IPA that recently medaled at the Great American Beer Festival.
The trick is to get customers to want another. Said Muse of Two Stones: “If the beer is no good, the name just comes off as gimmicky. And really bad beer is more offensive than a little blue humor.”