Like most things in Philly, the newest tavern in town already has a history.

It’s 700, on 2nd Street at Fairmount Avenue in Northern Liberties. Nine primo taps, live music and a dart board.

Go back 12, 13 years, though, and Mr. Weg and I are on the second floor of this very spot. Instead of a softly lit pub with a piano and a DJ, the place is a two-room flat with a dingy Pullman kitchen. The paint’s peeling and the stairwell’s full of trash. He’s stir-frying bok choy and I’m sitting on a beat-up futon drinking Yuengling Porter and ragging him because I can’t get the Phils on his lousy 12-inch black-and-white.

Weg rented the place because it was $240 a month and the medicine cabinet had a nifty disposal slot for used razor blades.

“I didn’t even use double-edge blades,” he remembered.

But back in the mid-’80s, that was enough reason to move into Northern Liberties. On the edge of Center City, it was filling with artists and yuppies hoping to turn 150-year-old rowhouses into lofts and condos. Never mind that Weg had to lend his landlord a couple hundred bucks to fill the oil tank for heat. We had hope for the future. Liberties, we thought, would be the next South Street, the next in-neighborhood that would turn urban pioneers into millionaires.

Didn’t happen, partly because of the economy, partly because a local oldtimer named Harry the Nail King refused to sell his dilapidated row of 2nd Street storefronts.

Harry’s gone now, Weg moved to the ‘burbs, I’m drinking Flying Fish Porter from Cherry Hill.

And the rundown apartment is now a very excellent bar.

God, I love irony.

And, I think, so must Kurt Wunder. He’s one of the three owners (with Tracy Stanton and Chris Sey) who sweated 8 months to turn Weg’s dive into 700.

You might recognize those names as former denizens of the late, great Khyber Pass (54 S. 2nd St., Old City), once the very best beer bar in Philly. Wunder and Sey tended bar there for years, serving up bottled imports and micro drafts; Stanton handled the sound for the bar’s raucous garage-band rockers. The night the Khyber Pass closed, Halloween 1996, the trio watched sadly as the regulars tore the place apart.

The Khyber has since re-opened and is serving a fine selection of brews. It’s a good bar, but it’s not the same old place – and not just because the new owners gave it a fresh coat of paint and got rid of the old dart board.

“I don’t want to brag, but I think it’s because of the people,” says Wunder, who hesitates to say anything negative about his former employer. “Dave Simons [Khyber’s former owner] basically let us run the place. And we really cared about the beer, and we loved the crowd.”

While the three young owners removed the debris from Weg’s old apartment, the Khyber crew trekked north on 2nd Street to check on the progress. They watched while a carpenter rebuilt a 30-foot-long wooden bar from Jack Stretch’s now-closed tavern at 15th and Mount Vernon. The crowd nodded its approval when they brought in the huge glass-and-mirror-back bar – a former pharmacy cabinet that the trio had rescued from a nearby vacant house.

And they were standing at the door when 700 opened for business late last month.

The first thing they saw was the dart board, smartly hung by the front window. More than just a game, darts tells the neighborhood that this once-dead place is alive, reborn with beer-drinking friends and visitors.

“I hope the neighborhood doesn’t change much,” Wunder said. “I don’t want to see South Street North or Manayunk East. That would be lucrative for the business, but I’d rather have a genuine neighborhood feel, a real community.”

Weg dropped by his old place on Monday. He already had a pint of Yards ESA in front of him when I showed up, and I could tell by the grin on his face that he’d seen the upstairs.

In a sublime act of restoration, Wunder and partners recycled Weg’s old kitchen appliances – including its puny icebox, cantankerous oven and stove plates – to construct a second-floor bar. The futon is gone, replaced by comfortable couches and coffee tables. The bathtub is now the DJ’s booth and the toilet tank is a good spot for resting drinks.

“I can’t believe I actually lived here,” Weg told Wunder. “Did you find the razor blades?”

Wunder laughed and said, yeah – they’d fallen into a cubby hole inside the wall.

“But I gotta tell you, man, you left the sink a mess!”

Nonetheless, the first drink was on the house.

Other places to drain a pint in Northern Liberties:

• Ortlieb’s Jazzhaus, 847 N. 3rd St.
• Poor Henry’s Brewery, Poplar and American streets.
• Liberties, 705 N. 2nd St.
• Paradise Alley, 624 N. Front St.
• Finnigan’s Wake, 547 N. 3rd St.

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Only six more drinking days until Christmas. That means you’ll have to double up on Joe Sixpack’s annual 12 Beers of Christmas.

Cooked up by happy brewers as a gift to beer fans, these holiday beers typically contain added malt and spices like nutmeg and cinnamon.

Each is a satisfying alternative to eggnog and hot toddies, perfect for a cozy evening in front of the fireplace or ‘neath the mistletoe. Hurry to your local specialty beer store or tavern, because most will be gone by next month.

1. Anchor Our Special Ale (California).
2. Sierra Nevada Celebration (California).
3. Pyramid Snowcap (Washington).
4. Humboldt Holiday Nectar (California).
5. Independence William’s Winter Warmer (Philadelphia).
6. Snow Goose (Maryland).
7. Dogfish Head Immort Ale (Delaware).
8. Still Nacht (Belgium).
9. Affligem Noel (Belgium).
10. Affligem Pater’s Vat (Belgium).
11. Samuel Smith’s Winter Welcome (England)
12. Samichlaus (Switzerland).

Of the dozen, Samichlaus (Swiss for St. Nick) is the strongest, with a 15 percent alcohol content that’ll knock the whiskers off your chinny-chin-chin.

This world-famous double-bock is brewed just one day a year, on St. Nicholas Day, Dec, 6. Then it’s stored for a year to allow it to ferment properly.

Among the domestic micros, Immort Ale from Dogfish Head in Rehoboth Beach, Del., is the strongest – around 12 percent. Though it’s not a true Christmas beer, this ale’s vanilla and maple aroma is comfortable and warming enough to take the chill out of a snowy night.

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Dear Santa,

How’s it going, geezer? Betcha didn’t think I’d catch up to you after that little stunt you pulled last winter at our annual poker game. You walked out of the club after running five straight pots and didn’t give the rest of us – the Easter Bunny, St. Patrick, the Tooth Fairy and me, Joe Sixpack – a chance to get our money back. None of us believed that baloney about catching the last train home to feed the reindeer. Heck, the R-2 line doesn’t even go to the North Pole.

The fang pixie says he’d like to rip the whiskers outta your chinny-chin-chin.

Me? Forget that naughty-or-nice stuff. The way I got it figured, you owe me big time; we can settle up this holiday season.

So listen up, fat boy, ’cause this list is long. It’s everything a beer lover wants for Christmas (or any other gift-giving holiday, for what it’s worth).

Namely, beer.

Last year, you stuffed my stocking with a sixpack of green Rolling Rock bottles tied with red bows – real festive, Santa. This year, be a little creative and put together a nice basket of those 22-ounce specialty bottles of Stoudt from Adamstown, Pa., or Rogue of Oregon. You can grab a bunch for about $3 each at almost any decent deli.

If you’re too brain-dead to do it yourself, trot over to Bridgid’s (726 N. 24th St., Fairmount) and they’ll arrange a basket of Belgian brews for $30.

Dock Street (2 Logan Square, Center City) carries 120-ounce mini-kegs of their specialty brews for $22.95. And most of the local brewpubs (including Samuel Adams, Manayunk Brewing, Valley Forge and Poor Henry’s) sell their fresh draft brew in 1-gallon growlers for about $12. They’re a perfect treat for a holiday party.

I could probably duplicate their recipes with my own beer-making kit. Everything I need to start my own brew is available for about $60 at Home Sweet Homebrew (2008 Sansom St., Center City) or Barry’s Homebrew Outlet (101 Snyder Ave., South Philly).

Feeling guilty about pulling that inside straight? A case of holiday ale stuffed ‘neath my tree might make us feel better. This is the only time of the year you can find Anchor Brewing Our Special Ale or Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale (about $30). They’re dark, spicy ales made for sipping with gingerbread cookies while you watch da Eagles clobber the Gints.

Guzzling these fine ales out of the botle may be good enough for red-nosed lushes like you, Claus. But to fully appreciate these brews’ character, I’d prefer a new set of glassware to replace the ones you smashed while toasting the Flyers last spring.

Almost all the local microbreweries (including Gravity, Red Bell, Independence and Flying Fish) sell pint glasses with their logos for about 3 bucks a pop.

What I really need, though, is a few of those tulip-shaped glasses for Belgian ale. I know they’re hard to find, but send one of those foul-tempered elves up to Shangy’s (601 State Ave., Emmaus, Pa.) for the best selection of beer glassware in the area (not to mention America’s largest variety of beers).

Too cheap to pay for the gas, you chiseler? Pick up the phone and dial 800-694-4255 (you’ll have to take off those goofy mittens) for Lion Pub Paraphernalia. The catalog outfit has an excellent selection of mail-order breweriana, including a Sierra Nevada pub mirror ($24) and a personalized neon tavern sign ($250).

While I’m waiting for my delivery, I could use a good book.

I already have everything that beer guru Michael Jackson has written, but new editions of his best volumes are on the shelves. His sixth edition of “The Simon & Schuster Pocket Guide to Beer” is indispensable for discovering those obscure brews in Czechoslovakia and Germany. The second edition of “Michael Jackson’s Beer Companion” (Running Press) is a marvelous backgrounder on beer styles and breweries.

I’d enjoy paging through “The Encyclopedia of World Beers” (Chartwell Books) by Benjamin Myers and Graham Lees. It’s full of nifty info on the world’s best beers, a quirky glossary of beer terms and step-by-step photo instructions on the obscure art of conditioning a cask of beer.

You can help me in my quest for great beers by wrapping up a copy of “The Great Lakes Beer Guide” (Boston Mills Press) by Jamie MacKinnon. It’s a terrific, opinionated guide to beers from Canada and the Rust Belt states, including Pennsylvania.

It’s your choice, Santa. Bring me what I want or I send the fang pixie to the North Pole.

Merry Christmas,

Joe Sixpack

The single most frequent question beer-drinkers ask me (aside from how I convinced the Daily News to pick up my beer tab) is: Where the heck can I buy the beers you write about?

These people don’t actually speak in italics, by the way. But they are thirsty enough for great beer to whine about the sad state of beer distribution in Philadelphia. Though craft brews are finding their way into some neighborhood taverns, it’s still pretty hard to find a decent place to pick up a sixpack.

Restaurants mark up their sixes big-time.

Takeout stores, with their limited fridge space, stick to Coors, Bud and 40s of Colt.

Logic would tell you the best place for a broad selection would be distributors. But the state’s anti-consumer liquor law defies logic and forbids them from selling anything less than a case.

That minimum isn’t such a big deal when you’re talking about laying out 15 bucks for a mainstream beer you’ve tasted 100 times before. Sooner or later, you’re going to finish off all 24 bottles.

Micros and imports are a different matter, though. At 25 bucks or more a case, it’s like putting all your chips on double-zero and hoping you’ll like the taste of that chocolate-raspberry porter.

So what do you do if you want just six bottles of a potentially great beer? Well, it’s back to those takeouts. Thankfully, a handful in the city and ‘burbs provide an extraordinary selection.

As a public service (and as an attempt to end some of those italicized questions from beer fans), here’s a handy guide to the top takeout beer places in and around Philly. Each has at least 100 quality beers to go, and most will give you a price break if you want to mix and match different brews in your sixpack.

(Sorry if I’ve forgotten your favorite. Give me a yell if you know of a great takeout spot we all should know about.)

• The Foodery (10th and Pine streets, Center City). The corner store has some of the most knowledgeable beer aficionados around; they know what you want to drink.
• Terry’s Delicatessen (2016 Darby Road, Havertown). Joe Sixpack grew up on Mrs. Terry’s hoagies and imports from more than 30 countries.
• Ashton Market (Springton and Marshall roads, Upper Darby). More than 750 beers, cross-referenced on the store’s computer.
• Food Tek (24 S. 2nd St., Old City). Lots of imports, strangely displayed on their sides in deli cases.
• Kitchen USA (1933 Spruce St., Center City). Not a huge selection, but some surprises and cigars.
• Epicurean Restaurant and Bar (902 Village at Eland, Route 113, Phoenixville). The fine restaurant has an adjoining takeout shop featuring more than 300 beers.
• Landis Restaurant (118 W. Lancaster Ave., Wayne). More than 150 beers, plus cigars.
• Michael’s Deli (Valley Forge Shopping Center, King of Prussia).
• Civeres (State Road and Lansdowne Avenue, Clifton Heights).

BEER TASTING

One of the best by-the-bottle stores in the region, State Line Liquors (1610 Elkton Road, Elkton, Md.), is hosting a best-of-brews tasting from 7 to 9 tonight. Elkton’s a bit of a haul for most of us, but this store is worth a side trip if you’re heading down I-95. Tonight’s tasting will feature the favorite beers of State Line’s customers. Call 800-446-9463 for info and directions.

AROUND TOWN

Poor Henry’s Brewery (829 N. American St., Northern Liberties) has started bottling its beer, for what it’s worth. The brewpub is a nice spot for a drink, but I’m still waiting for a little more oomph out of its beers . . . Meanwhile, Yards of Manayunk is still wrasslin’ with its bottler. Plans are still on tap to produce 12-ounce bottle-conditioned ales (an English version of Sierra Nevada) . . . The second annual Beer Season starts Dec. 1 at the Grey Lodge (6235 Frankford Ave., Wissinoming). Hunt 12 featured beers (including local winter favorites Dogfish Head Immort Ale and Victory Old Horizontal) and you get a free T-shirt.

ROCK BOTTOM

Remember when Rolling Rock was the in-beer of the yuppie crowd? Latrobe’s finest spent its 15 minutes in the spotlight until “30Something” crowed Dock Street as the yup beverage of choice. Well, Rolling Rock is going back to basics and, according to its press release, will “embrace” its “core equity.” No, not its lager, stoopid. The bottle! From now on, all Rolling Rock will be sold in those painted green longnecks – and that includes those delightful one-gulp seven-ounce ponies.

LAST BUT NOT YEAST

Another empty reminder of Philadelphia’s beer past is hitting the dust. Demolition crews are bringing down the John Hohenadel Brewery on Indian Queen Lane in East Falls.

Old-timers might remember its slogan, “Have a Hohenadel.” But since the company stopped brewing well before Joe Sixpack hit the legal drinking age, I can’t tell you a thing about the lagers it once produced. I’d love to hear from anyone with memories of the brewery.

Tonight is First Friday, Old City’s uniquely loathsome evening of crowded galleries and cheap wine.

Yo, Joe Sixpack enjoys contemplating naked sculptures as much as the next art lover. But when you get tired of rubbing elbows with people dressed in black, find an excuse to slip out the door and head off to one of the neighborhood’s plentiful taverns.

For, in addition to lots o’ art, Old City is home to the largest selection of beer bars in the city. There are better taverns in other neighborhoods, but nobody has so many tap handles.

At last count (and, believe me, I’ve been keeping count), I found close to 150 premium taps within walking distance of those packed galleries. If you can’t find something to wash out the insipid taste of Gallo in a plastic cup, you aren’t trying.

Old City’s bar scene has been growing slowly for the past two years, and for that I suppose we have the galleries to thank. They’ve attracted tons of visitors and lots of young, new apartment dwellers; it was only a matter of time before they demanded something stiffer than decaf latte.

True, good beer is nothing new in the ‘hood. Most of us who remember the ’70s had our first great beer at the crusty, old Khyber Pass (54 S. 2nd St., 13 taps). Now called simply The Khyber, it’s missing the old charm (not to mention a good portion of the dust), but its beer list is still superb.

Across the street is one of Old City’s newest pubs, The Plough and the Stars (123 Chestnut St., 12 taps). The atmosphere is upscale, and thus may fall prey to the suit-and-tie crowd that overflows the nearby Rococo and Continental bars. Nonetheless, a cozy fireplace will warm your toes while you sip a properly poured Guinness stout.

Though the P&S has an Irish accent, I feel more of the real thing farther up the block, at Brownie’s Irish Pub (46 S. 2nd St., 9 taps), a dark tavern that tastes like a cramped corner of Dublin. Yes, they have Irish stout on tap here, too, but Brownie’s is more notable for its excellent selection of local microbrews (Stoudt’s, Yards and Weyerbacher, among others).

Around the block is the 800-pound gorilla of Old City, Jake & Oliver’s House of Brews (22 S. 3rd St., 60 taps). These guys have glommed onto the craft-brew phenomenon in a big (some would say excessive) way, with a massive draft micro list. Critics diss the atmosphere (it echoes), and others complain the tap turnover is too slow to ensure fresh beer. But I still stop by frequently to sample hard-to-find brews, like Anderson Valley Barney Flats Oatmeal Stout.

Don’t dawdle there, though – there are three excellent pubs waiting for you north of Market Street.

Sugar Mom’s (225 Church St., 14 taps), consistently offers just about the best selection of local microbrews and exotic imports in the city. Throw in a happening jukebox, a pool table and shadowy, private nooks, and this tavern feels like your best friend’s basement – if your best friend had a kick-butt Beermeister.

A short walk to the north is John Patrick’s (208 Race St., 35 taps), the newest addition to Old City. I wrote about this place a couple of weeks ago, so I won’t bore you with a description.

Finally, if you’re still trying to avoid the art crowd, Charlie’s Pub (114 N. 3rd St., 10 taps) is a good hiding place. The draft list is deceiving (tucked next to the pedestrian J.W. Dundee Honey Brown was a spicy Dogfish Head Pumpkin Ale), and the bottle selection is a killer. I visited for the beer, but left raving about the Middle Eastern menu.

BEER EVENT OF THE WEEK

Beer Philadelphia hosts a Brews Cruise on the Liberty Bell riverboat on Wednesday, featuring a tasting of Celis, Shepherd Neame, Yards and a bunch of other stuff. Tix are 40 bucks (benefiting ALS research; info: 215-629-1131.

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The best part about attending the Great American Beer Festival in Denver is sampling brews from faraway points that, unless you had an unlimited travel expense account (hint, hint), you’d never otherwise taste. The worst part is knowing that, unless you can somehow make a road trip to East Japip, you’ll never get to taste ’em again.

That’s because many of the festival beers are not widely distributed outside of their hometown. And often they’re brewed in limited editions.

So, I won’t tempt you with the details of the flowery hop aroma of Bert Grant’s Real Ales Fresh Hop Ale (Yakima, Wash.). And how can I adequately describe the sensuous, nose-warming buzz you get from a pint of Alaskan Smoked Porter (Juneau, Alaska).

You hadda be there.

But good news is brewing. No official announcements, yet, but Joe Sixpack has learned that the GABF is planning its first regional blast, in Baltimore, next May 16. That’s Preakness weekend, for those who don’t follow the ponies, so either book your room or line up a designated driver now.

GABF founder Charlie Papazian told me the regional fest would showcase this year’s medal-winners along with East Coast breweries that didn’t make the trip west.

If anybody makes the trip, I’m hoping it’s the guys from the Brew Works at the Party Source. This oddly named brewpub in Covington, Ky., was the sensation of the festival, laying out one of the best varieties of ales I’ve ever seen from a single brewery.

None of its beers, though, are bottled for distribution.

The year-old brewery won four medals, including a bronze for a Belgian-style ale called Mephistopheles Metamorphosis that, if you peek, will bring goosebumps to your private parts. It’s brewed with five different yeasts that produce a strong, complex taste that changes with age.

If you want to taste it, you’ll have to time your trip to Kentucky for the first Friday of the month; that’s the only day they tap the MM keg.

Otherwise, you’ll have to satisfy yourself with its other medal-winning brews: Altered State, a Dusseldorf-style brown ale; Devou Dark, a porter; and BrewMecca Munich Helles, a light-colored lager.

OOPS

So much for my steel-trap memory.

During my reporting last week from Denver, I failed to mention one of the local medal winners: Iron Hill Brewery and Restaurant in Delaware took a gold in the Munchener Helles category for its Lodestone Lager.

It’s not bottled – you’ll have to make the trip down to the brewpub at 147 E. Main St., Newark, Del. Schedule your visit for a Wednesday this month so you can enjoy the medal-winner at the 11-month-old brewpub’s weekly Oktoberfest celebration.

Not into lagers? Brewmaster Mark Edelson is producing some decent ales, too. Among them: Pig Iron Porter, which last March was named Philadelphia’s Favorite Beer in Beer Philadelphia’s annual People’s Choice Awards.

Travel tip: Go south on I-95 to Exit 109; take Route 2 east toward Newark. You’ll pass State Line Liquors (1610 Elkton Road, Elkton, Md.; 800-446-9463), which stocks more than 800 beers, including an exceptional variety of Belgians. If the LCB asks, don’t tell them I sent you.

TOUR DE BREW

Beer historian Rich Wagner is picking through the dust of old Philadelphia breweries again. He’ll lead a walk-around of the dormant sites on Oct. 25. Cost is $35, including lunch and a copy of his brewery book. Call 215-922-3031 for details.

Meanwhile, at the Atwater Kent Museum (15 S. 7th St.), check out Wagner’s collection of bottles from the old breweries that once made this a world-class beer city. Note to mooches: The bottles are empty.

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DENVER  – Now we know why they call it the Mile High City.

Sample a few dozen one-ounce servings of America’s best beers and you, too, can reach a deceptively altered state of consciousness.

Thanks to my steel-trap memory and some barely decipherable notes, however, here are Joe Sixpack’s personal high points from the 16th annual Great American Beer Festival:

Best Beer – Abbey Belgian Style Ale from New Belgium Brewery, Fort Collins, Colo. Similar to Stoudt’s Abbey Triple from Adamstown, Pa., (which was not entered), it’s extemely complex and tasty.

Worst Beer – What exactly is Special Brew from St. Ides Brewing Co.? They call it “a refreshing alternative to beer.” I’d call it an abomination.

Strangest Beer – Vanilla Porter (Stoney Creek). A lot better than it sounds; should be available locally by the end of the year.

Best moment – Watching a slightly glazed Carol Stoudt pick up a gold for Stoudt’s Pils. It’s the 10th consecutive year the Adamstown brewery has won a GABF medal.

Best Beer Names – 1. Beam Me Up Scottish Ale. 2. Bad Czech Ale (Bank Draft Brewing Co., Houston Tex.). 3. The Meaning of Life Pensive Red Ale (Southside Cellar Brewing Co., Birmingham, Ala.)

Best T-Shirt – “There is no food value in beer. However, there is no beer value in food.”

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Welcome to the Great American Beer Festival.

It’s the world’s single-largest drinking event this side of Munich’s Oktoberfest: 457 breweries, 1,813 beers and more than 30,000 extremely serious, all-business, nose-to-the-grindstone conventioneers.

We’re talking three days of extensive, self-sacrificing research, if you know what I mean.

And for what?

For most of us, it’s to hone our beer-consumption skills.

But for others, like Gene Muller, it’s for the glory, and maybe prosperity.

Muller, president of Flying Fish Brewing, of Cherry Hill, N.J., is one of several Philadelphia-area brewers who have schlepped their finest ales out here to compete for medals in the most prestigious beer competition in the world. A panel of professional judges conducted blind taste tests and last night awarded medals in 50 categories ranging from potent Scotch ales to godawful American light lagers.

“I’d love to win and I’ll be a little disappointed if I don’t,” Muller told me shortly before the awards were announced.

Muller got the idea to open a brewery a few years ago when he and his significant other, Robin Tama, were driving through Arkansas on the way home from the GABF. He quit his job, convinced investors to ante up seed money, filled a nondescript industrial park building with kettles and fermenters, and last October put out his first batch of suds.

Still, he faces stiff competition for shelf space in the burgeoning local beer market, so Flying Fish can use every break it gets.

You can laugh at the notion of awarding medals for something as pedestrian as beer, but Joe Sixpack can’t think of anything more worthy of honor. A great glass of ale stands as a gift from one man to another, the honest work of a brewmaster offered to a grateful taste of a beer drinker.

“Winning a GABF award is prestigious both in the fact that it’s the most competitive judging of the year, and because it’s the most recognized,” said David Biles, of Valley Forge Brewing, which last year copped a gold medal for its Imperial Stout.

Others, like Jim Bell, president of Brewerytown’s Red Bell Brewing, say “there’s no correlation to winning a gold medal and selling beer,” But even Bell sent out his head brewer and four different styles to take a stab at a GABF medal.

Like I said, serious business out here.

As we waited for announcement of the medals at the city’s Currigan Hall convention facility, skilled, dedicated analysts dived into their work, meticulously scrutinizing the vast field of malt specimens. We examined, we sniffed, we drank.

A lot.

Red ales, brown ales and golden ales. Sweet stouts, dry stouts and oatmeal stouts. Belgian, Canadian, English, Scottish, German and American styles. Name a beer, it is here.

Flying Fish entered four beers: Extra Pale Ale, E.S.B. (Extra Special Bitter), Porter and Abbey-style Dubbel. Of the bunch, I like the porter the best – it’s a smooth, dark-brown ale with a lightly chocolate after-taste.

Unfortunately, there were no medals for the porter, nor any of the other Flying Fish styles. When I wandered over to the brewery’s booth after the awards ceremony, Muller looked down but not out. Tama busily poured the standard 1-ounce taster for a visitor.

“I guess you’re the obit writer, huh?” he asked.

I commiserated with him for about five seconds, then ran off to taste the gold medalists.

Among the winners on the local scene: the mild, light Stoudt’s Pils and the awesomely potent Triple Bock from Samuel Adams Brew House.

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When the boss asked me to write about the secret of entertaining with beer, I asked her, Who do I look like – Martha Stewart? Grab a bag of pretzels and pop open a cold one!

Beer cuisine is, as it should be, simple. It is Everyman’s beverage. Unlike wine, it does not require a snooty sommelier to tell you that you’re doing it all wrong.

Snobs who are convinced that only vintage wine is suitable for fancy-schmancy dining should head over to Cuvee Notre Dame for a $5 lunch and a glass of Stoudt’s Abbey Triple. It’s a fabulous meal, not to mention an excellent bargain.

But you don’t have to go out to enjoy good beer cuisine. Here’s Joe Sixpack’s Guide to Drinkin’ at Home.

SIP IT

Next time the guys are over to watch the Eagles on TV, host a Philly beer tasting. Ask everyone to bring his favorite local ale, and pour each into a small glass.

For starters, smell for herbal or spicy aromas from the hops. Then taste for roasted or sweet malts.

Peanuts are all you need for munchies. A glass of water will clean your palate between brews.

Need a shopping list? Try these for a living room hop fest:

• * Independence Ale, Northeast Philadelphia.
• * Red Bell IPA, Brewerytown.,
• * Victory Hop Devil IPA, Downingtown.
• * Stoudt’s Scarlet Lady (22-ounce bottle), Adamstown.
• * Flying Fish ESB, Cherry Hill, N.J.

DON’T DRAFT-DODGE

Though serving beer by the bottle is easier, draft beer is often fresher and more fun. A quarter-keg will fill 100 12-ounce cups – enough for up to 50 guests (or 25 if they’re my friends). Expect to pay about 40 bucks for a run-of-the-mill domestic, about $100 for a microbrew.

If a quarter-keg is too much, consider a 20-liter Shepherd Neame canister. Stone’s Fairmount Beverage (1701 Fairmount Ave.) offers the British ale for $120.

Or dash over to Dock Street Brewery & Restaurant (2 Logan Square, Center City) and ask head brewer Eric Savage for a mini-keg of his freshest ale. It comes with its own tapper and contains about 15 beers for $22.95.

EAT, DRINK & BE MERRY

Confused about which beer to serve with dinner? Generally, the spicier the food, the darker the brew; but a hoppy pale ale (like Sierra Nevada) will go with almost anything. Author Doug Hexter guarantees you’ll pick the perfect beer for every meal with his “Beer Navigator,” a handy guide from Fireside books.

Here are some of my favorite combos.

• * Dos Equis and black-olive pizza.
• * Stoudt Festbier and smoked sausage.
• * Yuengling Porter and steamed crabs.
• * Dolle Brouwers Stille Nacht Belgian ale and chocolate dessert.

SERVE IT RIGHT

1. The more you drink, the less you taste. So, when serving a variety of styles, start with the more delicate light beers while you can still enjoy the subtle flavors, and finish with the heavier dark beers.
2. Limit your selection to four or five varieties. Your taste buds will thank you.
3. Don’t over-chill the beer. It’s OK to serve an ice-cold American lager, but you’ll lose much of the roasted flavor of a porter if you serve it at over 50 degrees. Pull the bottle from the fridge 15 minutes before you open it. And, unlike wine, don’t open the bottle to let the beer breathe. You’ll kill the head.
4. Pour the beer with a nice head – about two fingers’ worth. Allowing the beer to foam releases its aroma and CO2.

GLASS NOTES

Go ahead and drink your Rolling Rock straight out of those little green pony bottles. But if swallowing something with a little more character, do everyone a favor and serve it in a glass.

A full-size shuffleboard, a basement bowling alley, card tables, art-deco etched-glass mirrors and an odor of cigar-burnished woodwork give the United Republican Club of the 25th Ward the look and feel of a tavern from yesteryear. So it’s no surprise that the reg’lars at the Kensington club turned up a 20-year-old can of Ortlieb’s.

“For a long time, it was the only beer you could drink here,” said Fran Evans, a former Frankford committeeman who, though he now lives across the river in Pennsauken, still hangs out at the club. “Albert B. Ortlieb was our treasurer, and the beer was delivered straight from the brewery.”

That brewery, closed in the early ’80s, has been reborn as Poor Henry’s brewpub (829 N. American St., Northern Liberties), operated by a descendant of Ortlieb’s founder. The rebirth had me thirsting for a good ol’ can of Joe’s Beer, and I offered a free dinner to anyone who could dig one up. Fran found one and brought it over to the club.

It was a vintage collector’s Bicentennial can from 1976 with a drawing of Independence Hall on the side and a real flip-top pull tab on the lid.

Frankly, it looked pretty nasty. So, instead of sharing the beer, Fran and his buddies shared stories about their club, founded in 1856.

“I used to come here after halfball games when I was younger,” Evans said. “They told me if I behaved like a gentleman and got to know the guys, I could join. It’s a unique camaraderie.”

The place darn near burned to the ground a few years ago, and the members have spent hundreds of volunteer hours to restore everything from the stained glass to the barstools. Here’s a Joe Sixpack toast, guys: You deserve a lot of credit for saving a historic building that could have easily disintegrated into ashes.

Their pride is a bronze niche sculpture of an oldtime Republican boss named Thomas Powers. If you look closely, you’ll see the sculptor’s signature: Alexander Calder, the same guy who did Billy Penn on City Hall.

The club commissioned the artwork in 1900 for $755 and gave it to Thomas Powers Elementary School. When the school closed a few years ago, the club salvaged the bust and placed it above the fireplace, where today it sternly watches the members hoist mugs of brew. They aren’t drinking Ortlieb’s any longer, but the beer still tastes fine at the United Republican Club of the 25th Ward.

TOKE OR CHOKE?

The distinctive smell of smoke at the club reminded me why many bar-owners have been unable to accommodate the burgeoning premium cigar trend. They’d like to welcome their stogie-stoking customers, but they don’t want to turn off their nonsmoking regulars.

Joe Sixpack enjoys a robusto now and then, so (unlike most matters of taste) I may not be entirely objective on this issue. But what makes cigarette smoke any less repugnant than that of a cigar? If anything, a $5 all-natural Honduran wrapped in Connecticut shade leaf and hand-rolled by peasant artisans produces a far more pleasing aroma than the noxious fumes emitted by 25-cent death sticks pumped out by the job-stealing automated machinery of multinational cartels.

Smoke-free is fine with me – as long as it’s all smoke. Taverns that permit cigarettes but not cigars are discriminating against minority smoke.

Cough if you agree!

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