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Tyler Brown had always taken pride in the fact that you would never find his beer in cans.
The founder of Barley Brown’s—one of the state’s most decorated breweries located about five hours east of Portland in Baker City—even used that draft-only status as a hook when looking to secure a tap at some of the finest chef-run restaurants across Oregon.
“My sales pitch was, ‘You won’t see this beer stacked up warm at the end of the aisle at Fred Meyer,’” Brown says. “You can just be overwhelmed by the number of beers on the shelf. We don’t want to be a brand that gets lost in that shuffle.”
That’s not to say Barley Brown’s most devoted followers don’t wish at times they could simply pop the tab of a crisp, piney Pallet Jack IPA at home, even if the 300-mile drive along I-84 required to order straight from the source is considered a beer-nerd pilgrimage.
The one and only time the brewery’s beer did wind up in a can—two years ago at Alefort, the beer-themed offshoot of Boise’s Treefort Music Fest—there was so much excitement surrounding the rare occurrence some people actually smuggled their aluminum out of the event like treasure.
“It was incredibly popular,” says Brown, “because it was the first time you could get a Barley Brown’s beer in a 16-ounce can.”
But when bars and restaurants were prohibited from serving customers on the premises in March 2020 due to the pandemic, Brown quickly realized he would need to rely on packaging to survive—a model he never really thought he’d need during his two decades in business.
Within days of the restrictions taking effect, a disastrous domino effect threatened to crush Barley Brown’s. Distributors canceled their orders, which meant that kegs bound for cities across Oregon—including the brewery’s biggest markets, like Portland, Eugene and Bend—ended up stacked ceiling high in the cooler. Every single tank was also full, leaving Brown with an excess of product and no way to sell it in a timely manner.
He then recalled that foray into novelty packaging at Alefort. That particular year, festival organizers hired a mobile canner in an attempt to turn the process into a spectacle. When the operators of Boise River Canning weren’t busy entertaining the audience with their shiny, silver assembly line, filling and fastening, they were meeting the featured brewers, including Brown. So once COVID struck, he jumped at the opportunity to reconnect, knowing other producers would be jostling to get on the company’s schedule, too.
“I called them, and he’s like, ‘Yeah, let’s plan some canning right now,’ because like everybody else, they’re worried about running out of cans, lids, everything,” says Brown. “We were able to scramble in less than a week after getting shut down.”
The very first batch of cans went up for sale in front of the brewery under a pop-up tent—what Brown and his employees ended up dubbing their “lemonade stand.” Even on a cold, drizzly day in Eastern Oregon, the customers came, wiping out the pallet in a mere five hours.
After canning every single drop of beer with that initial run, and distributors eventually returning to pick up those packages to sell in stores, Barley Brown’s took six weeks off from brewing. When it appeared as though the state would emerge from its dormant spring, Brown and his small team headed back to the brewhouse, hopeful for a busier summer. But what they soon learned was that even though on-premises sales could resume, it didn’t mean they necessarily had.
“There were so many places that permanently closed, or had no intention of opening until the restrictions were off, that we didn’t really have a market for draft beer,” Brown says. “We had to keep rolling back, so it was off and on canning beer. Driving us nuts.”
The most recent batch of cans rolled off the conveyor belt this March, marking one full year of packaging. Brown suspects they’ve all been snapped up by now, though you may have luck rummaging through the refrigerated cases at overlooked bottle shops.
If Brown has his way, those will be the final cans of beer that ever come out of his business. Given the brewery’s size—2,500 barrels a year—he says there’s money in packaging for the canner, the distributor, and the stores, but not him.
After riding out an unpredictable year, though, Brown knows better than to make any definitive statements, particularly since the production facility was plumbed for a packaging line eight years ago in case draft sales ever got too competitive.
“I’m never going to say never again, because everything is constantly changing,” Brown says. “We built the brewery so we could have one as a worst-case scenario, not thinking that the worst-case scenario would be every bar and restaurant in the county is closed down.”
But there are reasons to look forward to the return to the days of draft exclusivity. The swollen COVID caseload is subsiding, vaccines are readily available and open to all, and everyone is eager to drink somewhere besides their living rooms.
“We’re still going to shoot for being a brand where you have to get off your sofa and go find a bar or restaurant to drink a beer,” says Brown. “That’s always been the plan, and I think we need to work back toward that. It’ll make us feel a lot more normal.”
Get It Here: Restaurant: 2190 Main St., Baker City, 541-523-4266, barleybrownsbeer.com. 11 am-8 pm Tuesday-Saturday. Taproom: 2200 Main St., Baker City, 541-523-2337. 2-8 pm daily.