##Photo by Kathryn Elsesser.

Oh Yes, We Can

Pulling the tab on portable perfection

By Hilary Berg

My infatuation with cans started at a young age. In my house, my parents served mainly two beverages: water (straight from the tap) and milk (skim) — to this day, I’ve never broken a bone. On special occasions, they bought soda pop, but it was always in 2-liter bottles.

Editor's Note

Hilary Berg has been the editor of OWP since 2006. She graduated from the University of Kansas with a bachelor’s in journalism. She and her husband own a seven-acre vineyard and winery called Roots.


I appreciate my mom and dad’s healthy parenting, but, I’ll be honest, it also fueled my desire for portable, individual drinks of the somewhat sugary kind. Call it “wanting something you couldn’t have,” but, there’s more to it than that.

I am a terrible athlete.

Playing T-ball and softball when I was young, I knew (and all the parents in the stands, too) that I was not gonna make it to the pros. Fear of the ball, lack of speed and terrible aim plagued my nonexistent future in sports. To be honest, the only thing I looked forward to was raiding the cooler after the game, cracking open my very own beverage, not be shared with any of my four siblings. The sound. The crisp first sip. The smoothness of the metal. So sastifying.

Recently, my husband announced he wanted to can a small lot of our wine. As much as I love individual serving-sized anything, I initially thought he was nuts. Canned wine? Isn’t that a fad? Chris insisted he could sell it. So, he did it — I honestly know better than to second-guess his business savvy.

The response has been amazing, and we have not even officially released it yet. People want the cans. They want to take them camping, boating, concerts, hiking, for a walk around the block. They look at the cans and literally make plans. Easy to pack and no need for a corkscrew, cans are portability perfected.

Best of all, the snootiness that often surrounds wine just fizzles in the air after pulling the tab and taking a swig.

Like little kids playing T-ball under the hot summer sun, there are no airs on the field. It’s about having fun, getting exercise, exploring something new and that ice-cold can in the cooler after it's all over.

So satisfying.

Hilary Berg, OWP Editor

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