Published by Leonardo Calcagno
Short, stout, and impossible to ignore, the Canadian stubby beer bottle once ruled Montreal’s streets, stoops, and summer patios—one 341-milliliter reminder that bigger isn’t always better.
In Montreal’s bustling neighborhoods, amid the scent of fresh bagels and the chatter spilling from cafés, there was once a small, squat bottle that held a piece of local identity: the Canadian stubby beer bottle. Short, stout, and unmistakably sturdy, the stubby wasn’t just a vessel for beer—it was a symbol of a particular era in the city’s drinking culture, a time when the ritual of sharing a beer was as much about the company as the drink itself.
The story of the stubby begins in 1961, when Canadian breweries sought an alternative to the rising popularity of beer cans. Designed to be practical, the stubby was shorter and wider than the classic long-neck bottle, making it easier to store and transport. Its thick glass reduced breakage during the long journey from brewery to store, while its distinctive shape fit neatly into coolers, fridges, and even picnic baskets. Holding 341 milliliters—the standard beer serving—the stubby quickly became a familiar companion for Montrealers, whether at a summer barbecue, a hockey game, or a casual evening on a stoop in the Plateau.
For those who grew up with it, the stubby was more than glass and beer. It was part of the city’s social fabric, present at countless gatherings and celebrations. Friends would pass around the stubby at parks, beaches, and backyards, its short stature encouraging conversation and closeness. The amber bottles glinted in the sun, their recognizable shape a comforting presence on tables and counters. In bars, the stubby held court, a modest hero alongside the frothy pints it delivered. It even made appearances in Montreal music, films, and local anecdotes, immortalized as a symbol of casual conviviality.
Yet, as the 1980s rolled in, the stubby began to disappear. Changing tastes and international influences nudged breweries toward the long-neck bottle, aligning Canadian beer with global aesthetics. The practicality that had made the stubby so beloved became overshadowed by trends favoring style, elegance, and export-friendly designs. By the late 1980s, the stubby was mostly gone from store shelves, replaced by sleeker alternatives.
Despite its decline, the legacy of the stubby endures. Nostalgia for the squat little bottle runs deep among Montrealers who remember passing them around on summer evenings or saving a few for weekend adventures. Some craft breweries, recognizing this enduring affection, have resurrected the stubby in limited editions, pairing its retro charm with modern, experimental beers. These bottles are more than packaging—they’re a bridge between Montreal’s past and present, a reminder of a simpler era when a beer was not just about taste but about sharing moments and stories with friends. Like the old brick-and-mortar bookmakers in France have now all been replaced by online versions, where people play alone and not sharing it with a group of friends.
The stubby may no longer dominate Montreal’s bars or dépanneurs, but its place in the city’s beer culture is secure. It reminds us that sometimes the shape of a bottle can carry as much meaning as the liquid inside. In the end, the Canadian stubby is a testament to Montreal’s rich brewing history, the city’s communal spirit, and the timeless joy of lifting a bottle with friends and savoring the moment.
Photo by Ella Wei