Behind the Lens: A Good ‘Ol Can of Busch Beer

What is it that our tasteful beer photographers love the most about working with Busch beer?

Well, it’s definitely not the complexity. So, it’s gotta be how gosh-darn down to earth Busch is. And we mean that literally. You’re much more likely to find a can of Busch on the ground—either intact or crushed—than you are to find one at a fancier elevation, like, say, a table.

For that reason, the trick to photographing Busch seems to be taking it somewhere that’s both rural and outside. Then you just start shooting—and to be perfectly clear, by shooting, we mean with cameras, not bullets. But we see how people could make that mistake.

The best places for getting great images with Busch usually involve some combination of pine needles, poison ivy, and downed trees. Most importantly, you want these elements to be balanced. We’d love to say, “just like how Busch’s flavor is so well balanced,” but that doesn’t really apply here.

Once you’re in the right spot for a Busch, you will always know. It’s sort of like a sixth sense, the Busch sense—which coincidentally seems to have the effect of reducing all the other senses.

Ultimately, perhaps it’s these simplistic qualities that make Busch so adaptable to any outdoor activity that benefits from—some say, demands—light beer.

Casual jaunts through the forest? Busch always by your side!

Climbing random trees? Who needs two hands?

Hanging out in sketchy caves? Let a bright can of Busch be your guiding light!

A few daybreak hours of semi-tipsy hunting?  Well, it can’t hold a rifle (since it’s just a can of beer) but slip it into something camouflaged and so there!

Busch doesn’t necessarily have the best of reputations—but isn’t that really more a statement about humanity than it is about the beer? Okay, we guess it could also be the recipe. But to each their own, we say!

Well, thanks for going into the field with us and Busch. We’d love for the two of you to say goodbye, but we can’t recall where we left the can. We hear that’s pretty common with this stuff.

No worries! It’s out there somewhere. And, in the meantime, there will always be more good ‘ol Busch beers, just waiting for the right moment to jump out of the forest, or box, and surprise the daylights out of you. But not with its flavor, we just mean with its general presence.

Learn more about Busch beer in this tasteful review!

Behind the Lens: Hanging with an old Yuengling

What is it about Yuengling that captures the imagination of our tasteful beer photographers? Well, we’re not really sure. So, let’s just say that we appreciate experience–and Yuengling is really, really old. It’s one of the oldest beers in America. Not exaggerating.

But despite Yuengling’s age, this beer is no stuffed shirt—it’s a liquid-stuffed bottle, which is completely different. And this particular bottle is always up for just casually hanging out.

Old docks with minor flood damage? That’ll do!

Rustic barns with rotting planks? Um, yes, please.

Sit in a puddle of fetid rainwater inside a damaged cast iron fountain? Yuengling in there at the word fetid.

Despite coming from America’s oldest brewery, Yuengling isn’t necessarily well-known across the entire country. The beer is distributed to less than 20 states and only those that are east of the Mississippi River.

But despite its regional qualities, Yuengling has a big presence. Just take a sip and you’ll see what we mean. It kind of lingers on the palate far longer than one might be prepared for.

The trick to photographing a Yuengling is that you need to take it somewhere that is really, really old. Then just set it down and take the picture. That’s pretty much it.

Oh, one other thing. You may need to patiently explain, every five minutes, what a camera is and how that all works. This isn’t so much because Yuengling wants to get into photography—it’s a beer without arms or eyes, come on.

You just need to put Yuengling at ease. Kind of like some people need to put their stomachs at ease after having too many Yuenglings.

Anyways, when the light is just right, and the setting looks appropriately run-down and folksy, this is what we like to call Yuengling time.

Just remember that before you even realize it, your time with Yuengling will come to an end. We’re not saying you should savor it. You certainly can if you want. But, ultimately, we’re not comfortable encouraging that.

Thanks for coming out with us and hanging with our old Yuengling! We’ll have a full review up in the near future. And in the meantime, give a Yuengling a chance. If you want. No one will make a fuss if you don’t.

Behind the Lens: A Stag in the Wild

What do our tasteful beer photographers love most about Stag? Well, definitely not the taste, so it’s probably the adventurous spirit. When it comes to photo shoots on location, Stag is a true professional and always down for whatever.

Perch up in that tree? You got it, boss!

Stand on that precipitous cliff edge? Push me as close as you want!  

Keep working after dark? Well, I am a can of beer, lacking legs and free will, so gonna say sure!

Stag isn’t necessarily a mainstream name around the country, and that’s a real shame. Because Stag exudes a true natural beauty—the inside contents are so-so, at best—that communicates confidence, poise, and shiny-ness.

The trick to photographing a Stag is two-fold. First, you need the right light. Not too harsh, or the reflection can be overpowering, almost blinding. And not too soft, because you do want a bit of that Stag-esque shimmer. Sometimes, you just have to wait for the right moment. When it presents, Stag seems to instinctively know and be in just the right position. Working with Stag? It’s truly magical.

The second trick to working with a Stag is finding the right location. Stag is like a rough-and-tumble character dressed up for a night on the town. Part cowboy, part opera. It’s like a trophy head mounted on the wall that comes to life and reads your horoscope. Stag has a wild side, with a touch of class, so it needs a wild setting with a bit of order to it. Since it’s a Midwestern beer, we felt some river bluffs in the dead of winter were a perfect choice.

Sure, there are always some challenges with Stag. Long photoshoots are tough on what is actually just a relatively thin sheet of aluminum. With a body-type like Stag has, there will inevitably be little bumps and bruises along the way.  Little dings and imperfections. But, ultimately, that’s what makes Stag so special. It’s in no way a perfect beer—far, far, far, far, far, like gaggingly far, from it—but it is such a perfect subject in its own special ways.

Thanks for coming behind the scenes with us and Stag! Please keep an eye out for our full review in the near future. And in the meantime, give Stag a try. Or don’t. It’s not that big of a deal if you don’t.