AS ADVERTISING slogans go Carlsberg's was one of the most memorable, probably. But on Tuesday April 4th the Danish brewer said it would play down the catchphrase in favour of a new worldwide image for its beer. It remains to be seen if the new push to “iconise” the global brand with a new tagline—“That calls for a Carlsberg”—and standardised bottles in its 140 markets will work.

At a press launch for the new image, Carlsberg promised to double profits by 2015 for its namesake beer which accounts for 10% of total sales (but the firm was reluctant to reveal hard numbers). Carlsberg is the smallest of the world's “big four” brewers, which together control nearly half the world market. The Danish firm, based in Copenhagen, slakes around 6.5% of the world's thirst for beer. Journalists, shown round the historic brewery near the town centre, marvelled at the technology centre where new strains of barley and yeast are developed to ensure Carlsberg's main brew stays fresh and tasty for longer.

That beer is no longer made in the huge copper vessels in the cathedral-like main brew hall—that business has been shifted out of town. Yet Carlsberg do run a microbrewery on the site producing small quantities of delicious Jacobsen beers, as described in a blog post by Adrian Tierney-Jones, a British beer writer and a leading light of the British Guild of Beer Writers.

Yet the limited volumes made at the Jacobsen brewery are vast compared with the quantities produced by Mikkeller, run since 2007 by Mikkel Borg Bjergso, the self-styled godfather of “gypsy brewers”, who plies his trade at different breweries in Denmark, the rest of Europe and America. The growing band of itinerant brewers that he epitomises rent space at or come to business arrangements with bigger beermakers allowing them to produce small quantities of special brews that have no need to satisfy bland mass-market tastes.

After dinner on Monday at a museum housing Carlsberg's vast art collection several journalists, led by Larry Nelson, editor of Brewer's Guardian, a global trade publication, bravely headed off into the Copenhagen night, heading for Mikkeller Bar to try some gypsy brews. The small interior is cool and minimalist. The names and alcoholic contents of the 20 draft beers on offer (ten made by Mikkeller the rest by like-minded brewers) are chalked on the wall. As beer after beer arrived the beer writers talked about them with an infectious passion and enthusiasm, treating each one, rightly, like a fine wine. The beers were complex and sophisticated—a Mikkeller pilsner had many of the qualities of an Alsatian wine; Gonzo, a potent stout, had a warm chocolatey punch. And the young crowd were clearly savouring the beers as much as the British experts.

At dinner Carlsberg had served Jacobsen brews rather than wine, to show that good beer could make a fine accompaniment to a meal. The results were mixed. Mikkeller and the like demonstrate that some beers are made to be savoured and that drinking them is both fun and a very serious matter too, probably.