Everything You Need to Know About Australian Beer

As a squalid prison island, it is apropos that Australia's first brewer was a convict. Or at least that's how the story goes: James Squire was sent to Australia in 1787 for stealing some chickens. Upon his arrival, he promptly began brewing beer using stolen horehound in place of hops. Squire was caught, and sentenced to 300 lashes, but he got his punishment reduced to 150 for giving the governor two barrels of his beer. He eventually gained his freedom, planted real hops, and began selling his beer for four pence a quart. In 1798, he opened a tavern, the Malting Shovel, and by 1806, his hop plantation had grown to 5 acres. Squire died in 1822, and the epitaph on his grave allegedly read: "Ye who wish to lie here Drink Squire's beer!" None of this information tells you anything about Australian beer, and I'm not even sure how much of it is true, but it's a colorful anecdote, and probably confirms all your worst stereotypes about Australians.

In Sydney, Brisbane, or Canberra, you order a "schooner" of beer. That's 15 ounces. You can also order a schooner in Adelaide, but there it's only 10 ounces. That's the same size as a standard beer in many other cities, but you ask a for a "pot" in Melbourne, a "middy" in Perth, a "handle" in Darwin, and a "10 ounce" in Hobart. If you're an old man, you might be able to get seven ounces of beer by asking for a "glass" in Melbourne or Perth, or a "seven" in most other cities, except Adelaide, where it's a "butcher," though you don't see these glasses around so much anymore. Of course, you can always hedge your bets and order a pint; that'll get you 20 ounces of beer everywhere but Adelaide, where it's 15 ounces for some reason. A 20-ounce pint there is an "imperial pint." What the fuck, Adelaide?

Regardless of the size of your group, it is customary for each person to take it in turns to buy a round of drinks for everyone. This is a "shout." You can shout someone a beer, but it can also be your shout to buy everyone a beer. Unless your friends are wankers (they want fancy beers) or bastards (they want spirits), you will all drink the cheapest beer. The Australian government taxes the balls off beer. A 20-ounce pint of the cheapest beer in most pubs will set you back $8-$10. You can avoid all the glass-size headaches by simply buying a "jug" or two, which is the same as a U.S. pitcher and, mercifully, the same name and size in every state. If someone is carrying two or more jugs back to the group, you must yell, "Nice jugs!" at them. This is always funny. Leftovers in any jug go to the person who finishes the fastest. Don't tip your bartender—they're earning at least $16 an hour and it won't make them any friendlier. Even if you don't want to keep drinking, you must keep shouting rounds for everyone else until you go home or you're all too shit-faced to remember whose turn it is. The night must end with everyone slurring "Khe Sanh" by Cold Chisel.

To really understand Australian beer, you first need to know the two major power players. There's the Foster's Group, which hails from Melbourne, in the southern state of Victoria, and is ultimately owned by British company SAB Miller (the world's second largest beer conglomerate after Anheuser-Busch InBev). Then there's Lion Nathan, which is originally from New Zealand but is based in, and generally associated with, Sydney. Foster's owns about 44% of the beer market, and Lion Nathan, 47%. Basically, they own everything. Right now, the Foster's-owned Victoria Bitter (or VB to its fans), a bog standard pale lager, is the highest-selling beer in the country, but it has been running neck-and-neck in recent years with Lion Nathan-owned XXXX Gold (pronounced "four ex gold" but known simply as "gold" to its connoisseurs), a bog standard mid-strength pale lager from Queensland. Both are pretty ordinary.

Speaking of pretty ordinary beer, Australians, by and large, do not drink Foster's. Not because it's bad, per se (although that's what most Australians will claim)—we're just busy drinking other pretty awful beers. Other than XXXX and VB, the beers are as regionally diverse as those stupid glass names. Of course, people drink imports and craft beers (increasingly so), but you can still expect to see a bricklayer and a banker walk into a pub and make the exact same drink order. In Melbourne, that'll probably be Carlton Draught (owned by Foster's), which is a pale lager made in the same brewery as VB and is not dissimilar in taste. In Sydney, it's Toohey's New (owned by Lion Nathan), which is also a pale lager. Adelaide has West End Draught (Lion Nathan), also a pale lager. In Perth, there's Swan Draught (Lion Nathan), which is ... a pale lager. Hobart has Cascade Draught (Foster's), which is, wait for it, a pale lager. And Darwin has NT Draught (Foster's), which is... you get the idea. Yep, they all have different names and labels, but many of them are made in the same breweries, and in the grand scheme of beers, none is exceptionally different from another. And none is exceptional, period. Of course, there are other non-fancy beers available—Cascade, for instance, makes some more interesting brews, and any Sydney bar will also have Toohey's brown ale on tap—but if you walk into a pub in a major city and just ask for "a beer," you're almost certainly going to get one of these.

Unlike in the U.S., "light" beer in Australia is not lighter on calories; it's just lighter on alcohol content—usually around 2.5% ABV. By contrast, your average Australian beer is a standard 4.5% to 5%, and mid-strengths are around 3.5%. So why bother? Australia's DUI laws are relatively tough. The maximum BAC nationwide is 0.05, and it's heavily enforced, with cops setting up roadblocks to stop and breathalyze massive numbers of drivers every Friday and Saturday night. We're also inundated with incredibly graphic anti-drink-driving ads. As a result, people count the numbers of standard drinks they've had and generally police themselves pretty well. Staying at .05 is about one standard drink an hour, so if you want to drink and keep pace with your non-driving mates—or if you're my mum—light is a relatively stigma-free option, and it's available at every bar.

There was once a time when Australia was full of little independent breweries scattered across the land. But the country that bred Rupert Murdoch loves a monopoly, and somehow the beer industry ended up as a two-horse race. There are now quite a few brewers that look like independent outfits at first blush, but are actually under the powers of the giant conglomerates. Western Australia's Matilda Bay Brewing started as an independent craft brewery in the 1980s—really a pioneer at the time. It bought a slew of pubs around the country, and turned beers like Redback wheat, Bohemian pilsner, and Beez Neez honey wheat into standards on many Australian taplists. And then, of course, it was purchased by Foster's. Then there's Malt Shovel Brewery, which launched in the late '90s and does a range of beers under the name James Squire—including its flagship pilsner and a serviceable amber ale. That has been under the auspices of Lion Nathan since day one. More recently, there's WA's Little Creatures, from the same people as Matilda Bay, which makes a very popular American-style pale ale. That was bought out by Lion Nathan last year. Not that any of this is necessarily bad or a reflection on any of the beers. Some of these breweries seem to operate relatively autonomously. And older outfits like Matilda Bay really broke ground for today's crop of craft brewers and helped open up Australians' palates beyond dirty lagers and pride of Ringwood hops. But if you prefer to drink something from an independent little brewery operating out of a tiny garage somewhere... well, read the label.

Australia's craft-beer scene is still decades behind the U.S., but it has made leaps and bounds in recent years. Craft beer is now 2-3% of the market and growing (though the majority of this is brands owned by the big conglomerates), while the domestic macro market is falling. You can now expect to find some local—and sometimes imported—craft beer at the average pub and supermarket in most major cities, and also many really good dedicated taprooms. Melbourne is probably the biggest market right now, perhaps thanks to slightly friendlier liquor laws and because it's full of food snobs, though the force is also strong in Western Australia and Adelaide. The only Australian craft beer I'm aware of being available in the U.S. is Mountain Goat, which is almost certainly Melbourne's best-known craft brewery, and seems to have recently entered the U.S. market via L.A. Mountain Goat's flagship Hightail Ale is a mildly sweet, malty amber, made with Australian galaxy and summer hops. Try it if you can find it.

Coopers' sparkling ale and pale ale are some of the more widely available Australian beers in the U.S. for reasons I'm not entirely sure of. Is it the most exciting beer that will ever pass your lips? No, but we still love Coopers for other reasons. Firstly, the beers are probably the only chance you'll in the U.S. get to sample an "Australian ale"—the country's only home-grown beer style. Australian ales are a light, mildly hopped, slightly yeasty brew that evolved from the English pale ale and were big in the 19th century, before lager took over and the beer market became increasingly homogenized. A few local microbreweries are making the style now, but Coopers was the one that kept it alive for a good century. But there's a more compelling reason to drink Coopers: It isn't owned by Lion Nathan or Foster's. Founded in Adelaide in 1862, it's now the largest Australian-owned brewery. In 1993, the brewery's parent company was actually bought out by Lion Nathan, so the Coopers family bought the brewery back. Lion Nathan tried again in 2005, but the family and company board rejected its offer—and put measures in place so it couldn't try again. So when you drink Coopers you're kind of sticking it to the man. Or at least supporting the domestic Australian beer industry.