UK Supermarket Beers Begging for an Imperial Version
They’re dependable, familiar, and easy to drink. You know exactly what you’re getting, which is often the whole point. But every now and then, you crack open a beer you’ve had dozens of times before and can’t help thinking there’s something missing. Not flavour as such, more weight. More depth. More of that lingering presence that makes you slow down and really pay attention.
That’s usually the moment when the phrase “this would be brilliant as an imperial version” pops into my head.
Now, before anyone starts sharpening pitchforks, I do understand why most supermarket beers stay in that comfortable 4% to 6.5% range. Beer duty plays a huge role, margins matter, and supermarkets want beers that fly off shelves rather than sit there waiting for me to come and get them! Stronger beers cost more to make, cost more to buy, and appeal to a smaller audience.
All true.
But that doesn’t stop many of us quietly wishing certain familiar beers would just take that next step. Not to replace the originals, but to sit alongside them. A bigger sibling. Something you choose when you want flavour turned up, not just another easy can.
With that in mind, here are a few UK supermarket staples that, in my opinion, are crying out for an imperial or double-strength version.
Birra Moretti: Familiar, Reliable, and a Bit Too Polite
Birra Moretti is one of those beers that’s everywhere. Pubs, fridges, barbecues, restaurant menus. It’s clean, crisp, and very easy to drink, but it rarely excites. For me, it often feels a little thin, like it’s holding something back.
That’s why I think Moretti would really benefit from a richer, stronger take. Not something silly or overblown, just a more substantial version that leans into malt character and body. Somewhere around the 6.5% to 7% mark would be ideal. Enough extra strength to bring warmth and depth, without losing the smooth, approachable nature that makes it so popular in the first place.
I’d want more bready malt flavours, a touch of sweetness, and a slightly firmer bitterness to keep it balanced. The same Italian lager DNA, just with a bit of muscle added. It feels like a natural evolution rather than a gimmick.
Vocation Life & Death: So Close to Being a Beast
Life & Death is already one of the better supermarket IPAs out there. It’s bold, aromatic, and clearly aiming for that classic American IPA profile, with citrus, pine, and tropical notes all doing their thing, and doing them very well IMHO!
That said, I’ve always felt it sits just shy of greatness. The hops are there, the flavour is good, but the body can feel a touch lean for something that wants to be big and assertive. It’s the sort of beer where you can almost imagine how good it would be if everything was just turned up a notch.
An imperial version in the 8% to 9% range would give it the excuse to go all in. Thicker mouthfeel, bigger malt backbone, and hops that really punch through rather than politely introducing themselves. This wouldn’t be about chasing alcohol for its own sake, but about creating something chewier, more indulgent, and more satisfying to sip slowly.
It feels like a beer that’s already (almost) halfway there.
Guinness: The Imperial Stout We’ll Probably Never Get
Guinness doesn’t really need my help. It’s one of the most recognisable beers on the planet and already owns its lane completely. Even people who “don’t like stout” will happily drink a pint of it.
They’ve also explored both ends of the spectrum, from the ultra-sessionable draught stout to a genuinely impressive 0.0% version (and actually my personal favourite). But what they’ve never really done, at least in a mainstream, widely available way, is go properly big while still keeping that unmistakable Guinness character.
Yes, Guinness Foreign Extra exists, but it’s a different beer with a different recipe and a different feel. What I’m talking about is an imperial stout that still tastes like Guinness and has that Guinness DNA, just deeper, darker, and more intense.
Picture roasted barley pushed further forward, richer coffee and dark chocolate notes, and that dry finish still firmly in place, but supported by a warming 9% to 10% strength. No pastry tricks, no gimmicks, just Guinness turned up to eleven.
I know exactly why it probably won’t happen, but I’d buy it in a heartbeat.
Punk IPA: Does It Need the Hazy Jane Treatment?
Punk IPA has reached that strange point where it’s both iconic and endlessly debated. For many people, it was their gateway into craft beer. For others, it’s something they’ve moved on from. Either way, it still matters.
The latest recipe tweak seems to have landed fairly well, and it’s arguably more drinkable than ever. But that raises an interesting question. Is the market now ready for Punk to have a bigger sibling, in the same way Hazy Jane does?
A Double Punk (or Punk Punk - I'll let you use that BrewDog), sitting somewhere around the 8% to 8.5% mark, feels like it would make sense. Take those familiar tropical and citrus flavours, give them more weight, more bitterness, and more staying power, and suddenly Punk becomes a beer you reach for when you want something a bit special rather than something routine.
It wouldn’t replace the original. It would just give it a different context, and perhaps remind people why Punk mattered in the first place.
Beavertown Neck Oil: Imagine It With Some Chew
Neck Oil is dangerously easy to drink. Light body, bright hops, clean finish. It’s a beer designed to disappear quickly, and it does that job very well.
But I can’t help wondering how good a stronger version could be, especially for drinkers who love the flavour profile but sometimes want something that lasts a bit longer on the palate.
An imperial Neck Oil around 7% to 8% could keep all that citrusy freshness while adding a thicker, rounder body underneath. More mouthfeel, more lingering hop character, and a sense that this is a beer to savour rather than smash through.
Think of it as Neck Oil for slower evenings, colder nights, and smaller pours.
Beavertown have already already dabbled at the high end with “Double Chin” a 7.4% Double IPA, and it was basically an Imperial Neck Oil, but it hasn't been seen in a few years and it was at the time just a limited edition birthday brew and not a beer that was available all year rounnd ... so anyway, there’s precedent for a beefier beer in their range. I’d love to sip a 7.5% Neck Oil on a cold night: a bold reminder of its session IPA roots, but packing a serious wallop.
Why These Beers Make Sense as Imperials
What all these beers have in common is a strong, recognisable identity. You know what they’re supposed to taste like, which makes the idea of a bigger version easy to grasp. You’re not being asked to learn something new, just to experience something familiar in a more intense way.
Most of the time, an imperial lift only needs an extra couple of percentage points of ABV to work. Enough to build body, depth, and warmth, without tipping into novelty territory. Done right, it enhances flavour rather than distracting from it.
Supermarkets already sell strong beers. The audience exists. It’s just a question of whether any of these big brands are willing to take the risk and trust that drinkers want more than just “easy.”
Over to You
I’ve had my say, but I’m far more interested in yours.
If you could wave a magic wand and give one UK supermarket beer the imperial or double-strength treatment, which would it be? And how big would you want it to go?



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