Drinking is a serious business. There are tasting notes to be made, flavour profiles to compare, distillation processes to consider, cask finishes to explore and ester contents to geek out about. For many of us, this is really important – and really interesting – stuff.
We live in a world inhabited by drinks nerds, no more so than in the trade bubble in which Alcohol brand owners and experts find themselves. I love nothing better than immersing myself in the product detail of new launches. Learning about the latest botanical mix for a new gin, the next rye mash bill expression of bourbon or the innovative flavour-adding process for the next great rum genuinely gets me going.
We’ve all been mesmerised by enthusiastic brand ambassadors telling us all about the processes and details that make their product superior to others and – what’s more – passing on that knowledge as the diligent apostles and converts that we have just found ourselves.
In this manner, alcohol brands and even whole categories have educated and converted swathes of consumers, persuading them to trade up; to pay more for the privilege of imbibing such a prestigious product. Gin and craft beer led this wave in the early 2010s, with premium expressions of all categories following suit. Even now, the ultra-premium baijiu category is gaining value share as it, too, follows a well-trodden path of consumer education.
But are we in danger of taking ourselves just a little too seriously?
A few years back, I went for a trade night out with a gentleman who carried a thermometer in his pocket to test, and then record, the temperature of the cask ale he was served. Needless to say, when drinking those ambient (10.3°C to be very precise) pints, the joy was drained each time a thermometer was dunked and a notebook was taken out.
Of course, that’s a somewhat extreme showcase of nerdiness, but perhaps the point holds when we compare us in our industry bubble to the punter in the bar. While they may have a passing interest in the floral notes or the length of the taste, is an explanation of the hand-processed agave and the charred-oak barrel finish really what they’re looking for after a long day at the office?
In the quest to demonstrate quality credentials in a market where drinks brands have been embarrassed to admit they’re anything other than super-premium, perhaps we’ve lost the fun. Further, maybe we’ve also lost our connection with a consumer base that’s increasingly looking for cathartic on-premise experiences.
Hospitality, at its best, is an immersive escape from a serious and scary outside world; a place to disconnect from devices and let our hair down, an inclusive space where all are welcome and all are well cared for.
To many, premiumisation has become pretentious and the reserve of the few. We have inadvertently excluded swathes of the population by making our drinks inaccessible and difficult to appreciate.
Take tequila, for example. The category is an undoubted (and, unfortunately, rare) bright spark in the global on-premise, with its recent performance far outshining the wider spirits category. Like every other category, tequila has shifted perceptions and driven value growth in higher-quality brands as consumers make more informed choices.
But even in the US – both the biggest and most established market for premium tequila – just 37% of the category’s drinkers care if the tequila they drink is 100% agave. It’s the original ‘fun’ category, and yet we’re in danger of sapping that fun and forcing a set of rules and regulations on consumers who just aren’t interested.
Perhaps we should focus on delivering flavoursome and fun drinks, rather than an alchemy lesson in drinks production?
After all, we’re already seeing winning brands that are bringing the fun back, are resonating with younger audiences and are not focusing on the spirits base of their products, but the proposition itself (hello, BuzzBallz).
We’re also seeing fun rituals return to the sector, with my personal current favourite the ‘Craig David’ – a half-shot of pineapple juice, a shot of (good-quality) tequila, followed by another half-shot of pineapple juice. Give me that over a complex ruby port-finished reposado with lingering notes of smokiness most days of the week, but especially Friday and Saturday.
As we enter the closing years of the ‘Roaring 20s’, then, perhaps we can liven things up a bit, take ourselves a little less seriously and give our guests good times, as well as an education in serious drinking.
