With just 25 miles separating Düsseldorf and Cologne along The Rhine, there’s some overlap between their beer cultures. Visit a Brauhaus in either city and their iconic beers – Altbier and Kölsch, respectively – are traditionally served from wooden barrels (vom Fass) by waiters called Köbesse.

These waiters are known for having an attitude, adding a bit of theater to the experience. They circulate through a brewery’s pub with trays of small, cylindrical beer glasses (called “Stangen” or “Stange” if it’s just one) and will replace a customer’s drink as soon as it’s empty – if not sooner. These trays are called Kranz, and the ones used in Cologne are specifically designed with slots to hold each glass.

A Köbine carrying a Gaffel Kranz. Image source: Gaffel.

Altbier and Kölsch are also unusual as they’re ales in a country known for lager. They’re holdovers from a time when lager wasn’t so dominant.

The beers themselves are the most notable difference between the two cultures. Kölsch is pale, light, and refreshing, while Altbier is darker and has a more robust flavor, lending itself well to hearty dishes.

The Glasses

From left to right (all images sourced from the respective brewery): 1. A Köbes fills a Kranz at Brauerei Päffgen. 2. Holding a Stange of Früh Kölsch. 3. A Stange of Uerige Altbier. Notice the notches on the coaster indicating how many beers the customer has had. 4. A toast to Füchschen Alt.

Much more subtle, but still distinctive, the glass used for Altbier is different than the one used for Kölsch. Simply put, they both have a circular, cylindrical shape, leading to the name “Stange”, which means rod or pole, but the Altbier glass is a bit more stout than the slender Kölsch glass. Though both styles can come in various sizes, Kölsch is typically served in a 0.2L glass and Altbier in a 0.25L glass.

Scouring old glassware catalogs, I can’t find any examples of an Altbier glass that was specifically connected to the style or to Düsseldorf. However, there were several examples for Kölsch going back to the 1930s.

Clip from the 1937/38 Ankerglas Bernsdorf catalog depicting two Kölner Stangen. Image source: glas-musterbuch.de

Though there isn’t a lot of readily available details on the history of these glasses, it is clear that both have been part of the beer cultures in these two cities for generations. And it’s hard to imagine anyone would think of using a different glass any time soon. Aside from perhaps the Masskrug at Oktoberfest, the respective Stangen with Altbier and Kölsch are more hand in hand than any other beer style/glass combo in Germany. So, don’t expect to find your beer in a shaker pint or a TeKu on your next trip to Düsseldorf or Cologne. Joking aside, don’t even expect to see it in the versatile and widely used Willi Becher, which is not a bad alterntive if you’re in a pinch.

The Kölsch Convention

In fact, in Cologne, the glass is so entwined with the culture that its use was formally recognized in the 1986 Kölsch Convention – an agreement between the brewers of Cologne that dictates the parameters for what can be called “Kölsch”.

Within the text is the following passage:

The producers of "Kölsch" shall use their best efforts to ensure that "Kölsch" is only served in the so-called "Kölsch-Stange" (Cologne-Stange), as is commonly used for serving "Kölsch."

In the States

Milk Tube in a Kölsch Stange at Human Robot Brewery in Philadelphia, PA. Image source: Human Robot.

Between the two glasses, the Kölsch Stange is more widely used in the States, which corresponds with the greater ubiquity of the beer style. It has also become the vessel of choice for the “milk tube” trend made popular by Human Robot in Philadelphia where wet foam from a Lukr faucet is poured into a Stange and drank like a shot.

But Altbier is a great style that I’d love to see more brewers making. And if they want to live that #properglassware life, Altbier glasses are readily available from reputable companies like Rastal and Sahm to serve those beers.

Choosing one glass over the other isn’t going to greatly impact your sensory experience when drinking Kölsch or Altbier, outside of the visual aspect that traditionalists and beer nerds like me hold dearly. However, that doesn’t mean that we should use the two interchangeably. They certainly don’t in Germany.

An earlier post had me flipping through an old book that brings up memories that are a bit nostalgic now. And though I’ve had Michael Jackson’s Great Beer Guide for around twenty years, it still fascinates me. I thought it would be fun to share some of my favorite drinkware from the book.   

Published in 2000, the Great Beer Guide is a fantastic book and offers a nice snapshot of what the beer world was like at the time. It does this by offering a brief overview of 500 beers from around the world.

While many think of the United States beer culture as still being in the dark ages in the year 2000, there’s an impressive number of beers from the States represented in the book. Though Jackson may have been a bit polite in some cases, there are many that are or were, excellent.

In addition to the 500 brews, the book also provides some other thoughts about beer that he explores in greater detail in some of his other works like Ultimate Beer. This sharing of similar content may be because both of these books in particular were published by DK.

Though there are many iconic vessels in the book that I appreciate (Tripel Karmeliet, for example), I decided to share some less obvious examples here.

Enough of the background. Here they are.

Berliner Bürgerbräu and Dock Street

With their colored handles, these glasses give a little flair to glassware that you don’t find these days in the beer world. Though there are very slight differences, these two are incredibly similar in shape, which is also something I appreciate.  

Jackson explains that in the case of Bürgerbräu, the red handle was used for their Export lager, and customers would order a “robin redbreast” (Rotkehlchen, in German, which is actually the name of this particular beer.)

It would be cool to see breweries/manufacturers experimenting with colored glassware again. Perhaps gold or silver handles with a matching rim.

Fraoch And Grozet

Though these are not my favorite looking vessels, I greatly appreciate the use of materials (ceramic and leather) and forms that were in widespread use before the proliferation of glass. Outside of Bavaria, few beer drinking cultures were still using non-glass drinking vessels once glass became cheap and readily available.

Both of these brands are produced by Williams Bros. Brewing Company in Scotland (Alba Scots Pine Ale is another beer of theirs featured in the book.)

Fullers and Jennings

These mugs have a presence that are at the same time sophisticated and substantial. They just seem to command respect. Though the lack of curvature is not ideal, there’s something about them that draws me in.

Guinness

There’s nothing wrong with the classic tulip Guinness pint glass, but this stout pokal/goblet is a bit cooler looking and is a little more unique, which an iconic beer deserves. Guinness still sells a glass in a similar design, but I like the one in Jackson’s book better.

Hoepfner

I like the artwork on this glass and also the nonic-ish bump.

Königsbacher

Having a first and last name beginning with a K, I’m drawn in by this glass’ K stem. It’s surprising we don’t see stuff like this more often.

Mitchell’s

I don’t know why, but I was always fascinated by these plastic bottles in my early years of beer nerdom. And yes, this post is about drinkware, but I feel this is worth mentioning here.

I always kept an eye out for these bottles not realizing that there was zero chance of me ever finding them in a store where I lived. Though that’s the main reason I’m mentioning Mitchell’s, the branded glassware depicted with the beer is very nice.

Okocim

This Polish beer is depicted with the book’s only Tübinger. Not just any old Tübinger, but one with a lid (called a Zinndeckel in German). Not sure we need more of these, but still pretty cool.

St. Georgen Bräu

I’m admittedly a sucker for St. Georgen Bräu, and I love drinking it out of a stein in particular.  In this case, the shape and artwork all click for me. I’d love to get my hands on one of these.

Other observationS From the book

-        Black Sheep of the UK and Domus of Belgium have beers depicted in Weizen glasses.

-        The book is short on dimple mugs, particularly the Czech-style Tübinger (there’s just the Okocim) and British Dimple pots (there are none).

-        Despite the American notion that nonics are the ubiquitous UK beer glass, there are very few in the book. They include Fuller’s (for a different beer than above) and Woodforde (though there are a couple other nonics that are unbranded).

 Most UK/Irish glasses are presented in tulip pints and shakers (aka, conicals.) This includes Adnams, Bank’s, Beamish, Cobbold, Greene King, Murphy’s, Pitfields, Sam Smiths, and Ushers for the former, and Bass, Batemans, Cain’s, Caledonian (Scotland), Charles Wells, Eldridge Pope, Highgate & Walsall, Hopback, King and Barnes, Marston’s, Shepherd Neame, Youngs for the latter.

 -        Of course, a significant number of US breweries are presented in shakers including the following: Alaskan, Anchor, Bert Grants, Fish Tale Ales, Geary’s, Great Lakes, Hale’s, Independence, Magic Hat, North Coast, Odell, Oliver, Portland, Pyramid, Red Hook, Rogue, Sierra Nevada, Southampton, and Tabernash.

 -        Malt Shovel from Australia is in a shaker as is Haecht from Belgium. Though it may seem odd for a Belgian brewery to be featured in a shaker, it is classed up with a gold rim.

-        There are a good amount of pokals in the book, including Ayinger, Bacchus, Bitburger, and Harvey’s.

 -        There are also lots of Willibechers, including Alfa and Brand from the Netherlands, Cristal from Belgium, Flatlanders, Gordon Biersch and Penn from the US, and Gambrinus from Czechia.

I’m curious what a 2023 edition of this book would look like. Probably a lot more British and Czech-style dimple mugs, Tekus, and snifter/tulip style glasses. What are some of your favorite examples of brewery drinkware past or present?  

The shaker pint and the Teku are two of the most despised beer glasses, and besides both being glass vessels used for drinking, they have nearly nothing in common. One is an incredibly basic shape; a conical tumbler that has been around forever for all kinds of uses. The other is a modern creation. An angular, stemmed glass made specifically for beer.

Neither are worthy of much loathing (I mean, they’re just glasses, people), yet beer nerds have very strong opinions on them. I find them interesting as they are so different, and, at the same time, so debated in the contemporary beer world. (I think. Probably. Right? Is this just my perception? Probably the shaker more than the Teku.)

Shakers have been part of beer culture for much longer than Tekus. Some are better than others due to their manufacturing. Countless breweries in the United States have used them. Many breweries that sell/use more interesting glassware will still sell/use shaker pints.

The term “pints” is used loosely here. They can come in varying sizes, which is part of the reason some don’t care for it. The unpredictability of what a “pint” is when you order one. That’s a matter that is formally regulated in other beer-drinking cultures.

Do they add much to your drinking experience? No, not really. But do they really detract to the level that they deserve the hatred they receive? No, not really. Knocking others for using them is a little gatekeepy. I was probably like this at one point. I also shunned Nirvana when I was a kid because they were on a major label. I grew up. Shaker haters can too. They’re not that bad.

Some of the criticisms are that they lack features that elevate the drinking experience (aroma, e.g.) and that their thick composition creates issues with temperature. An argument is that the thicker glass retains the heat from one’s hand more so than thinner glass. This assumes people hold their beer the entire time they drink it and will cradle the beer long enough for this to become an issue.  

Tekus were created in 2006 in Italy and are produced by the German glassware company Rastal. Technically, the name is spelled TeKu, representing the names of the two creators, Teo Musso and Lorenzo “Kuaska” Dabove. Musso is the brewer/owner of the Italian brewery Birra Baladin.

The websites for both Rastal and Baladin include fluffy language about how great the Teku glass is. It’s pretty. It has a modern look and works well if you like/want a stemmed glass. I like that it was specifically designed for beer and the way the curve at the top hugs the lip. Beyond that, I don’t think there are any major differences between it and most other stemmed beer/wine glasses with a decent bowl shape. This may be the reason why others gripe about it. Is it really necessary? The main complaint people seem to have about the Teku is its shape, which many people find a bit pompous, or simply unattactive.

Some of the content in this table might appear a little contradictory. But I suppose it’s possible that, for example, the Teku can be elegant and showy at the same time. Likewise, the shaker has a simple design that can be beneficial and dull at the same time. Yes, it’s basic, but sometimes basic is cool too. Tekus may help concentrate aroma, but if you have an already aromatic beer, you will still get a great sense of that if you hover your beak over a shaker.

This post is by no means a call for beer bars to start making use of either of these glasses. There are plenty of other options that are better suited for most. But if a beer bar were to use a shaker pint, it’s worthwhile to invest in a quality product. For example, Rastal makes Tekus, but they also offer a variety of shaker-style glasses that are high quality.

And just like all other glassware, once you’ve made the investment, you need to properly care for it even if it’s a shaker (i.e. no stacking, properly cleaning, etc.) Most importantly, as a customer, try not to let glassware style preferences get you bent out of shape when you’re served a beer. If you can put your feelings aside, there’s a pretty good chance you can still enjoy your beer no matter what the glass is. With all the challenges we face in life, glassware styles are something to enjoy and celebrate, but never something that should cause an uptick in our blood pressure. Except for those goddamn cheap UK-style dimple mugs everyone uses for lager.

In response to keg-standing partygoers and dishwashing averse party hosts around the globe, Robert Leo Hulseman invented the Solo Becher, or Solo cup, in the 1970s. This iconic beer cup has permeated discerning beer cultures around the world ever since.

The cup is perfectly designed to receive the inevitable amount of excessive foam that emanates from a finely jostled keg after being rolled from a high schooler’s car to a backyard. This led to the creation of the Instragram-friendly slow pour. Beer geeks love a good faucet, and to achieve this foam, the Solo cup works best with a party pump faucet.

Unbeknownst to many, Solo cups include lines to delineate the varying pour styles, which are particularly fashionable in craft beer circles these days. Starting from the top is the foam pour. Moving down next is the kinda foamy pour. Next is the “I heard if you dip your finger in there with nose grease or ear wax, the foam will go away” pour. Finally, there’s the “bro, it’s all foam! Pump the keg some more” pour.

These lines were inspired by older drinking glasses that had lines for varying purposes, one of them being drinking games. The Solo cup lends itself well to a variety of these, including flip cup and beer pong. Happy April Fool’s Day. Rabbit Rabbit.