AT THE END of the bar, with a frosty glass of beer in hand, few of us ever look beyond the frothy head of suds.

We sit around, trade lies and gulp pitchers with rarely a thought about where our favorite adult beverage fits into the grand scheme of things. It’s a time to relax, not worry. So we rarely wonder:

Who made that beer?

Where were the ingredients grown?

Were the workers treated fairly?

Lately, though, I’ve been chatting with brewers and beer drinkers who do care about the answers. They’re part of the Slow Food movement – a small but growing political and cultural protest against fast food and industrial agriculture.

Indeed, craft brewers are becoming a vital part of the movement, and not just because they come to meetings armed with kegs of free beer.

Not long ago, a contingent of about two dozen American craft brewers traveled to Turin, Italy, for Terra Madre, the international conference on Slow Food.

Among them was Chris Leonard, proprietor of Gen. Lafayette Brewery & Restaurant, accompanied by a couple of kegs of imperial porter and India pale ale from his tiny brewpub.

This week, I checked in on Leonard with a sixpack of questions. Here’s our conversation:

1. What is slow food?

Slow food is really a concept, founded upon the anti-fast-food movement. It’s a cultural way of life in which, instead of just picking up a pizza, you embrace food as part of your life, and look to someone local for your food.

You know, we used to go to the neighborhood butcher, the neighborhood baker. Today, a cheeseburger in New York tastes the same as it does in Paris. That strikes fear among people who take pride in their local cuisine. It’s a world where everyone serves Applebee’s baby back ribs.

2. But fast food isn’t all bad, is it?

Well, it’s easier to go to chains. And it’s easier to buy frozen chicken fingers and drop them into a fryer at your bar.

But what’s so hard about spicing them yourselves, making your own beer batter? It’s unique and it’s local.

3. Where does beer fit into the slow-food movement?

From the international standpoint, the big guys like Anheuser-Busch are seen as a bad thing. And craft brewers are seen as an antidote.

In America, we’re definintely seen as the small, local, regional producer of a food product.

We’re making individual products, not necessarily from all-local ingredients. But we’re producing specific styles by region, whether it’s the West Coast and its very hoppy beers, or the East Coast and its English-style, maltier flavors.

4. Why did you go to Turin?

It was an exchange of ideas more than anything else. It was a chance to learn how the rest of the world gets its food.

Looking at it from a brewer’s standpoint, it was a chance to see how the big breweries are getting bigger, and how some of the family breweries are getting wiped out.

For instance, not long ago, Dewolf-Cosyns, a small maltster in Belgium, was purchased by a big conglomerate, and then they turned around and closed it when it wasn’t financially viable for them. That was a blow to diversity; it cut the availability of ingredients.

A lot of American craft brewers felt it immediately. Their Special B malt was known for giving Belgian-style dubbel that raisin-y, plum flavor.

5. How is slow food reflected at Gen. Lafayette?

Aside from the beer, our chef, Bill Falcone, and I try to do everything that we can to use local products. It’s impractical to do everything from scratch. But seasonally, whatever we can get locally, we do.

All our pork is from a farm in Lancaster County. The vegetables are local. We use local venison and serve it with chutney made with locally grown cranberries.

Our bread is from Chestnut Hill; our ice cream is from Mount Airy.

6. Why go to all the bother?

I think the quality, more than anything else. Fresher is always better, and that includes the beer.

And I think the building we’re in [a pre-Revolutionary War inn on Germantown Pike in Lafayette Hill] lends itself historically to trying to do things the way they were done 250 years ago.

To me, it wouldn’t feel right if we weren’t trying to make everything fresh. If we converted to pub grub and made more of a profit on that, I’d feel that I’d be doing a disservice to the building. I feel like I’m responsible for the legacy of this land and this building. “

Beer radar

Phoenixville will get its second brewpub in early 2006, when Iron Hill Brewery & Restaurant opens its sixth location. The new joint will be constructed on Bridge Street, the burg’s main thoroughfare. With nearby Sly Fox Brewing, the new Iron Hill means Phoenixville (pop. 14,788) will have as many brewpubs as Center City . . .

Raise a glass to Brandon Greenwood, the lovably cantankerous brewmaster at Nodding Head Restaurant & Brewery. Greenwood, the brewpub’s original brewer, was named brewmaster at the Lion Brewing Co., the contract brewer (Stegmaier, Pocono, Christian Moerlein) in Wilkes-Barre. Assistant Gordon Grubb will take over on Sansom Street . . .

Deadline for entry in Wynkoop Brewing’s 2005 Beer Drinker of the Year contest is Dec. 31. Finalists win a weekend trip to Denver, where they’ll face a panel of wigged judges who will test them on the vastness of their beer knowledge. The winner gets free beer for life at Wynkoop’s brewpub in Denver, and $100 in beer at their local brewpub. More info at www.wynkoop.com . . .

Fans of De Dolle Oerbier rejoice: The next batch of the Belgian specialty to be imported here will be the “old” version of the famously tart ale.

When the brewery was forced a couple of years ago to switch its traditional yeast strain, the flavor faltered. But its importer, B. United International, swears the newest version – to arrive in mid-February – will be taste as good as the old . . .

Other new labels appearing on local shelves: New Holland the Poet stout, Mahr’s Brau Christmas Bock, Schell’s Caramel Bock and Atlantic Coal Porter.

At lagerheads

“What can the Brits tell us Czechs about the quality of beer? It’s as if we Czechs went to France and told them how to make champagne.” – Jan Vesely, chairman of the Czech Brewing and Malthouse Association, after British beer enthusiasts griped about the quality of some Czech beers, as reported by Realbeer.Com.

Joe Sixpack, by staff writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Jenlain Noel. 

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WITH ALL due respect for tailgaters who routinely forget to load up on beer before the big weekend game, let me tell you why the move to legalize Sunday sales at Pennsylvania beer distributors is a bad idea.

And, no, it’s not because I think you’re a bunch of lazy asses who shudda planned ahead.

The bill making its way through Harrisburg is a classic case of lousy, last-minute, self-interested lawmaking that falls short of solving any of the real problems facing the industry and consumers.

In the rush to pass this bill before the end of the legislative session, lobbyists are loading it up with provisions to favor the megabrewers from St. Louis and beyond to the detriment of smaller, homegrown beermakers who bring diversity – and jobs – to our state.

One proposed amendment to the Sunday sales bill is intended to provide millions of dollars in savings to Diageo, the London beverage giant, while denying those same savings to nearly all of Pennsylvania’s 70 microbreweries. (See adjoining story. )

Insiders believe that amendment will get slapped down. But the point is that the Sunday- sales bill is the start of reckless, piecemeal reform that will do more harm than good.

On its face, legalizing Sunday beer sales at distributors seems a no-brainer. Many state liquor stores are open on Sundays, as are delis that sell sixpacks, so it’s only fair, as the 400-member Malt Beverage Distributors Association argues, that they get the same competitive break.

But if you talk to individual distributors, as I have, you quickly find that many of them have no interest in expanding their hours.

Sunday is a day off for these small businessmen, and many of them doubt the extra workday will increase sales.

At a recent meeting of beer distributors in Bucks County, for example, a majority of those attending had no interest in Sunday sales, said Joe Bound, one of the region’s biggest distributors.

“I’m just not so sure that changing the law is good for anybody,” said Bound, who’s been in the business for 58 years. “I doubt consumption is going to go up. So all they’re doing is shifting the sales from one day to another. “

But as soon as the competitor down the block opens on Sunday, you have no choice.

Chuck Greenstreet of Stockertown Beverages in Northampton County said, “Our feeling is that if the law passes and we can be open, we will. But unofficially, I need time to mow the lawn and play with the kids. “

The bill’s main backers naturally paint this as a “consumer-friendly” issue.

The coalition to Modernize Our Beer Laws issued a poll that says more than two-thirds of regular beer-drinkers support Sunday sales.

(MOBL, by the way, is funded by such pro-consumer groups as Coors, Anheuser-Busch and Miller. )

The bill would open distributors on Sundays for all of five hours, from noon to 5 p.m.

Those hours are hardly a convenience to anyone. Instead, they’re calculated not to offend churchgoers, which in Pennsylvania is always the biggest stumbling block when the topic is booze.

Indeed, the limited hours underscore the real intention of this bill: It’s a first, tepid step toward rewriting Pennsylvania’s archaic beer regs.

We all like to gripe about the state’s goofy beer laws. No sixpacks at beer distributors, no cases in delis, two sixpacks at a time in bars . . .

The rules are leftovers from the 1930s, when the Prohibition was ended and lawmakers were freaked about the mob’s control of demon rum.

Capone is long dead, so it’s time for change.

But the fact is many of the state’s unique, smaller breweries – especially Yuengling – survive today because of those rules. Without them, the Borgs from St. Louis – who account for about 50 percent of all beer sales nationwise – would have long ago assimilated shelf space here.

Instead, according to figures cited by the Wall Street Journal, A-B sales are under 29 percent in Pennsylvania, the lowest in the nation.

So here’s the deal:

Fix the beer laws, open on Sundays, even.

But not with the proposal that’s on the floor in Harrisburg. The bill doesn’t account for tavern owners, who hold a big stake in the state’s beer industry, and I’m not so sure it offers much to consumers.

You want reform, get everybody together – consumers, bar owners, beermakers, distributors and community groups – and write some sane laws.

This piecemeal, one-toe-at-a-time approach only plays into the hands of the big guys, the ones who can afford high-powered lobbyists whose only aim is to tweak the law for their backers’ financial advantage.

In the meantime, tailgaters, get your act together. Protect Pennsylvania beer. Buy your brew on Saturday.

Beer radar

Belgians are chuckling over the new corporate name for beer giant Interbrew (maker of Stella Artois). After merging with Brazil’s AmBev, the company changed its title to InBev which, as beer expert Tim Webb notes, is Antwerp slang for cunnilingus . . .

Draft beer to go? A handful of bars (notably, the Grey Lodge in Mayfair) and most brewpubs offer takeout growlers of fresh beer. But now the Sixpack Shop (7015 Roosevelt Blvd., Northeast) – yes, a dreaded “stop ‘n’ go” – is breaking new ground with take-home draft. Look for the likes of Neversink, Anchor or Victory poured fresh from a tap.

Lake Placid Craft Brewing beers from New York are making their way into Philly. Get a taste of 46er IPA and its flagship Ubu Ale, an English-style strong ale. And California’s Lagunitas Brewing is here, too, with an excellent Czech-Style Pilsner, a very drinkable IPA and a powerfully sweet Brown Sugga barleywine . . .

Victory Prima Pils did well against tough competition at the European Beer Star competition. It took a bronze medal in the Bohemian pilsner cate-gory . . .

If you haven’t seen Tammy yet, do yourself a favor and check out the Virtual Bartender at Beer.Com. She pours a helluva pint. No, she won’t take off her top, but she will show you her tattoo . . .

Calendar

Tomorrow: “Craft Brewing in North America: a 20-year Retrospective” by beer historian Rich Wagner. The talk takes place at Yards Brewing (2439 Amber St., Kensington) at 2 p.m. Admission is free. Info, 215-634-2600.

Tomorrow, Sunday: Great Beers of America Classic Beer Festival, a two-day beer fest at Split Rock Resort, Lake Harmony, Pa. $45. Info, 800-255-7625.

Nov. 26: Dogfish Head Minute by Minute, a tasting of the Delaware brewery’s highly hopped draft ales, 60-Minute, 90-Minute and 120-Minute IPA. Taps open 8 p.m. Info, 215-624-2969. *

Joe Sixpack, by staff writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Landmark India Red Ale. 

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Under the guise of “modernizing” state beer laws, Harrisburg lobbyists engaged in some old-fashioned legislative greasing this week.

They came up with an amendment in the Sunday-beer-sales bill that would give British booze giant Diageo Guinness, Johnny Walker, Smirnoff) a huge cash windfall while denying the same savings to the state’s small brewers.

The amendment rewrites Pennsylvania’s arcane liquor law to allow third-party repackaging of beer cases.

Currently, state beer regs say that only a brewery is permitted to package beer. That’s no big deal when your assembly line is producing zillions of identical cans of Lite.

But what if you want to market cases with, say, four flavors of beer? Even 21st-century robots can’t handle the task of mixing and matching. Microbreweries, like Yards and Victory, do it by hand.

When Diageo, which produces Smirnoff Ice at a plant near Allentown, wanted to do it, the company found the labor costs too steep.

Normally, a big company would turn to a third-party repackager to handle the job. Using cheap manual labor, these companies repackage products into those impossible-to-open blister packs you see on the shelves of big-box stores like Costco.

To do the same with beer, Diageo would need to change the law.

State Rep. David Steil, R-Bucks, obliged.

Tucked into the Sunday- sales bill is an amendment that, for the first time, would permit another company to repackage malt beverages.

Steil said he backed the amendment because the owners of Diageo’s repackaging company live in his district. “They’re going to be forced to go out of state without the amendment,” Steil said.

Fair enough, but two provisions raised some eyebrows.

One limited the third-party repacking to breweries that produce a minimum of 15,000 barrels a year. That means the state’s microbreweries – the very companies that depend on the sale of variety cases – would be denied the same cost savings.

Steil promised yesterday that restriction would be eliminated.

The other provision no doubt thrills out-of-state brewers like Coors and Anheuser-Busch. To “preserve” the so-called three-tier system of beer distribution (breweries must move their product to an intermediary wholesaler before it reaches the retail level), repackaged beer must be returned to the brewery before it’s sent to a wholesaler.

That’s no problem for Diageo – its warehouse is nearby the repackager.

But that’s a helluva hurdle if you have to return your repackaged beer to St. Louis.

-30-

THIS TIME of the year, the buzz really kicks in, and I’m not just talking about the high octane in cold-weather beers.

The buzz is the excitement, the impatient talk that circulates among beer freaks over an assortment of highly desired, once-a-year, craft-brewed specialties. Though breweries release specialties throughout the year, the pace picks up during the holidays, when winter warmers and turbocharged “imperial” ales get the blood running.

Weeks, even months before these beers show up on area shelves, anxious fans start yammering about treasured ales with quirky names. You read it on Internet beer-rating sites, you hear it at area distributors:

How long till Double Bastard makes it to the East Coast?

Can I reserve two cases of Mad Elf?

Let’s do a road trip to Downingtown for Hop Wallop on tap.

Yeah, it’s cultish, but the fever pitch is one of the joys in the world of craft beer. If your attention is fixed only on the mainstream – Bud’s commercials or Miller’s taste test – you miss it completely. No one goes nuts when Coors decorates its 30-pack with snowflakes, but in the weeks before Christmas, word spreads like a blizzard as the red-and-green bottles of Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale make their annual appearance. (This year, the hoppy ale arrived earlier than ever, in late October, nearly 10 weeks before Christmas. How do I know? An ecstatic reader named Andy Mulherin e-mailed me and other area hop heads the minute it showed up at Bell’s Beverage in South Philly. )

Rather than being the product of expensive marketing campaigns and focus groups, the excitement is the natural, happy confluence of over-the-top brewers, willing to experiment with exotic tastes, and appreciative beer drinkers who are more than willing to give them a try.

When it clicks, when the suds leave their mark on our palates and our memories, a frantic wave of crowing erupts. First one to get a taste gets bragging rights.

At RateBeer.Com, one member lucky enough to get his hands on an early bottle of Stone Brewing’s 2004 version of Double Bastard Ale offered a quick review: “A little more balanced and less alcohol showing through IMO. I’m not sure if there is a recipe change of any kind or just a palate change on my part. “

Meanwhile, over at BeerAdvocate. Com, readers updated each other on the near-record alcohol content of this year’s edition of Dogfish Head World Wide Stout. (It’s 18 percent, according to Dogfish’s Web site, which also helpfully posts the release dates of all its wintertime specialties. )

And at Liquid Diet Online, Jack Curtin wasted little time sharing his view of Victory Brewing’s Hop Wallop:

“Personally, I miss the pine and citrus notes of the 2003 version, which was more complex and easier to imagine downing several pints of over the course of an evening. I have little doubt, however, that the masses who have eagerly been awaiting this release will be more than delighted with it. “

Indeed, area distributors like the Beer Yard, in Wayne, were so overwhelmed by the demand last year for Hop Wallop that they now take pre-orders for cases.

“The word spreads like crazy,” said Matt Guyer, of the Beer Yard, who compares the buzz to the frenzy around the Eagles. “I can’t get enough of it. “

When one of these brews catches the wave, entire shipments are sold out in days. Frantic phone calls are made to outlying beer stores, searching for any spare sixpacks. Especially treasured bottles are cellared for safekeeping and sipping. Sometimes, brewers re-gear their production schedules to squeeze in one more batch. But mostly, when it’s gone, it’s gone till next year.

So, here’s fair warning. Look for this sixpack of buzz – but by the time you read this, it may be too late.

(Note: some of these cases go for 40 bucks or more. Find a couple pals and split ’em up.)

1. Troegs Mad Elf. This rich but tart red ale from Harrisburg is flavored with cherries. But it’s the Belgian yeast strain that’s the star of this brew, gushing down your throat with a tingly spice.

2. Victory Hop Wallop. I missed this one last year (Victory produced just 800 cases), so I was first in line when this year’s version was released this week. You don’t even need to swallow to taste the hops; they just explode right off the top of your pint and right into your schnozz.

3. Stone Double Bastard. Served in 22-ounce bombers (and bone-crushing, 3-liter weapons of mass destruction), this is an ultra-hopped version of the California brewery’s Arrogant Bastard ale. This angry brew weighs in at a hefty 10 percent alcohol but, honestly, it drinks like dream. And if you’re looking for something smoother, there’s a variety that’s been aged with oak chips.

4. Weyerbacher Insanity. Speaking of oak, this is the Easton brewery’s Blithering Idiot barleywine that’s been aged in bourbon barrels. Though this first-time brew’s too young to qualify as a true buzz beer, it’s already making a commotion. When Weyerbacher applied the same aging to its Old Heathen imperial stout last summer, word spread so fast that the resulting brew – called Heresey – sold out in a couple weeks.

5. Sierra Nevada Celebration. The king of all buzz beers, its appearance in the fridge is as much a sign of the holiday season as Santa Claus climbing up the ladder at Gimbel’s. OK, I’m dating myself, but Celebration – a perfectly balanced, dry-hopped ale made with English malt – turns me into a sentimental fool.

6. Anchor Our Special Ale. Another longtime American holiday ale, this beer gets the buzz from its ever-changing ingredients. Every year, enthusiasts compare notes, detecting aromas and flavors, from clove to pine.

Beer radar

Locals are awaiting the arrival of Secret Ale, the bottled alt from New York’s popular Southampton Publick House. Brewer Phil Markowski said he’s still trying to line up a distributor, and there’s talk of bottling some of his well-regarded, Belgian-style ales at the new Sly Fox brewpub in Royersford . . . Fox, by the way, opens its Royersford location on Monday.

New on local shelves

Cricket Hill American Ale, Southern Tier Belgian Tripel, Rogue Santa’s Private Reserve and Landmark India Red Ale.

Calendar

Tonight: A traditional (if slightly late) Oktoberfest at Cannstatter Volksfest, the German-American club (9130 Academy Road, Northeast Philadelphia). Have a beer and a bratwurst while enjoying performances by Bavarian dancers. Doors open 7 p.m. Tickets $8 ringside, $7 general seating. Info, 215-855-3376.

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IT’S TAKEN me two full weeks to clear the cranium since the annual Great American Beer Festival, in Denver. The notes in my suds-soaked notebook attest to only one thing:

Too much beer and not enough hands.

The lasting image came during a post-festival showdown between East and West Coast brewers at a downtown beer bar. There, we were treated to the sight of Dogfish Head Brewing’s Sam Calagione frantically trying to get his newfangled Randall the Enamel Animal tapping contraption to spew suds.

Everyone got wet, and I’m not sure the beer ever made it into the cup.

The frustration lifted 12 hours later when Calagione, after years of disappointment, finally captured his first gold medal for the Delaware brewery’s Midas Touch.

“I think a lot of people were happy for Sam,” said Curt Decker, co-owner at Center City’s Nodding Head brewpub. “He brings so much to the industry. It was nice to see him go home with something. “

Nodding Head also took home a prize, for its Berliner Weisse, a tart summertime brew that won for the second year in a row.

Meanwhile, it was up-and-coming suburban brewer Scott Morrison who showed that his medal-winning performance in 2003 was no fluke. Morrison, of McKenzie Brew House, in Glen Mills, grabbed a bronze for Bavay, a spicy ale known as biere de garde.

Biere de garde – or “beer to keep” – is an old style of beer from the French/Belgium border that was traditionally made in farmhouses. It’s malty with a bit of fruitiness from the yeast. Typically, it’s sold in corked champagne bottles that can be cellared for months before consuming.

“I’ve loved biere de gardes since my first Jenlain 15 years ago,” Morrison said, referring to the classic French version of the style. “I’ve been working on the same recipe for 10 years, tweaking it here and there. “

You don’t have to travel all the way to Denver to taste this award-winner. McKenzie’s (451 Wilmington-West Chester Pike, Glen Mills) hand-bottles its biere de garde so you can take it home for keeps.

Sixpack awards

GABF judges handed out more than 200 medals. Here are a few they missed:

The Veterans Stadium Memorial Longest Beer Line: With more than 300 breweries on hand, usually you don’t have to wait long for a beer at the GABF. But the line for Alaskan Brewing Smoked Porter snaked for more than a few yards. This beer is legendary, partly because you can’t find it east of California. It took home a bronze for smoke-flavored beer, finishing behind a smoked porter from Missouri and, in a huge surprise, a rauchbier from the Princetonians at Triumph Brewing.

The Stop ‘n’ Go Shortest Beer Line: Zima XXX Black Cherry slush. Let’s just say the Coors guys pouring this slurpee junk had a lot of time on their hands.

The Mercury Medal, for beer that’s worth an early frost: Peg Leg Imperial Stout. It’s the next issue in the body-warming Heavy Seas line of brews from Baltimore’s Clipper City. Hugh Sisson, the brewery’s boss, believes his best bet to break through Philadelphia’s beer market is with his over-the-top ales. (This summer’s Heavy Seas saison, Red Sky at Night, was a huge fave. )

The Honorary “They Oughta Be in Philly” Brewery: Bosco’s, the Memphis brewpub. And not just because the pub’s thirst-quenching La Biere de Tonduese was reminiscent of an old-style Philadelphia lager at its best. These guys have fun, and they make no apologies for copping Dogfish Head’s popular hop-filled Randall the Enamel Animal tapping device. Bosco’s version is Marvin the Organaleptic Hop Transfusion Module.

The Jaw-Dropper (for the festival’s biggest surprise): Bitter End Bistro & Brewery, of Austin, Texas. I’d never heard of these guys, but they blew me away with an excellent range, including Sour Prick – a tart brew made with prickly pears that won a bronze in the Belgian sour ale category. If you make your way to America’s weirdest town, get a pint of 1100, a barleywine, and Richter Scale Rye – both are a mouthful.

The Broken Record for the Festival’s Most Asked Question: What was Lagunitas Brewing Censored copper ale originally called? The answer: Kronic, a label that our square friends in the Treasury Department eventually discovered had drug connotations. Psst . . . Don’t tell the feds about Sweetwater Brewing’s 420 Pale Ale.

Name game

Most brewers I know are lovers, not fighters. But their beer names sure talk big. In Denver, they served Kick Ass Brown, Hands Off Maibock, Total Disorder Porter and Arskigger.

It wasn’t all fightin’ words, of course. There was a Big Woody, a Wee Woody, a Fat Woody and the aforementioned Sour Prick – kinda makes you wonder what’s really on these guys’ minds.

Belgian white beer is known as “wit,” so we tonsiled. Nit Wit, Wits End and Katerina Wit.

Double bock often ends with the suffix, “ator,” a nod to the original, Paulaner Salvator (the Savior). In Denver, I gave thanks to Common Denominator, Der Roggenator, Emancipator, Deviator and Intoxicator.

I wouldn’t normally pick Grand Lake Brewing’s Wooly Booger Nut Brown Ale, but it went down better than its name.

Here are my medals for the best beer names:

• Honorable Mention: Saint Arnold (Houston) Fancy Lawnmower Beer.
• Bronze: Big Rock Chophouse (Birmingham, Miss.) Norm’s Raggedy-Ass Ale.
• Silver: Flossmoor Station (Flossmoor, Il. ) Vote Early, Vote Often American ale.
• Gold: Bull & Bush (Denver) The Legend of the Liquid Brain imperial stout.

And Walking Man Brewing in Stevenson, Wash., gets my vote for brewery of the year, for the best-named lineup: Walking Stick, Jaywalker, Homo Erectus, Knuckle Dragger and Old Stumblefoot.

Beer radar

Iron Hill’s five locations are hosting Thursday-night Oktoberfest dinners through the month. Enjoy a three-course beer dinner for $19.95 . . . It’s still almost a month away, but I’ve got a feeling tix will go fast for this one: Beer and cheese tasting with Brooklyn Brewing’s Garrett Oliver at Tria (123 S. 18th St., Center City), on Nov. 8. Oliver is an apostle for beer cuisine, and Tria’s already made a mark with its excellent fermentables. Info: 215-972-8742 . . .

New on the shelf: Rogue Yellow Snow Ale in 64-ounce bottles, Magic Hat Feast of Fools 12-packs, with two new flavors (Ravell porter and the mysterious Batch 369), Allagash Curieux (bourbon-aged tripel). Coming soon: Czechvar (aka the original Budweiser) on tap.

Calendar

Tomorrow – Great Eastern Invitational Microbrewery Festival at Stoudt’s Brewing (Route 272, Adamstown, Pa.). Beer and buffet at the region’s oldest beer festival, then stick around till Sunday for the brewery’s Oktoberfest. Tix: $25. Info: 717-484-4386.

Oct. 21 – Meet the brewers at Red, White and Blue (33 High St., Mount Holly, N.J.). Beermakers from New Jersey breweries Climax, Cricket Hill, Flying Fish, River Horse and Hunterdon will be at the wine and liquor shop, from 5-7 p.m. Afterward, stop by the nearby Bridgetown Pub (up the block, at 42 High St.) for flights of beer. Info: 609-702-9949.

Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Avery Hog Heaven. 

-30-

LONDON PRIDE is a world-class English ale, and I don’t mean one of those solemn, introspective tomes that goes down like a dose of Thackeray without Cliff Notes.

This is a pale ale the way Brits make pale ales. Smooth, lightly bittered, perfectly balanced – not hopped out the wazoo like those Cascades-addled pales from the West Coast.

Best of all, it’s drinkable till dawn.

So, why can’t this beer get a break in America?

Or, more to the point, why is it that when you go fishing for an English ale on this coast, almost all you can hook is a Bass?

I mean, our shores get pummeled by the Germans, the Dutch, the Mexicans and even the Irish. Meanwhile, England – one of the world’s great beer-drinking countries – exhibits the kind of intestinal fortitude we’re more accustomed to seeing from the French.

The British are so protective of their beer, they have laws ensuring drinkers get a full pint.

Its Campaign for Real Ale, known as CAMRA,has actually rallied citizens to protect failing breweries.

Samuel Smith’s, Bateman’s, Brakspear, Young’s, Shepherd Neame – these are revered names in English beer.

Yet, almost all the Brit beer that floats over to this side of the Atlantic is an overrated, uninspired ale that Otto in “A Fish Called Wanda” might insult as “a stuck-up, snot-nosed, English, giant twerp. “

A fortnight or so ago (that’s Old English for 14 days, mate), I sat down for a taste of Pride and an explanation from Fuller’s export manager Stamford Galsworthy.

He managed to grab us a seat at the Elephant & Castle (1800 Market St., Center City), a chain whose idea of British fare is Heineken and nachos. (Though, to its credit, the place now pours London Pride. )

Fuller’s fate, Galsworthy believes, is partly its own fault, and partly bad business luck.

For years, it’s tried to make a splash with its ESB – or Extra Special Bitter – a category it basically invented. It’s a label that has won more CAMRA awards than any other brew, a beer that’s been described as “the ultimate drinking machine. “

The problem (aside from the fact that nearly every U.S. micro now makes its own version of the beefy ESB) is that Americans don’t turn to British beers for such filling mouthfuls.

“There are certain brands,” said Galsworthy without naming names, “that have not done Britain any favors . . . The perception is that British beer is to be consumed in quantity, not quality. “

Fuller’s might’ve fine-tuned strategies years ago, but it’s been derailed by a tough string of business twists. It had to virtually start from scratch last year when the Heineken takeover of Germany’s Paulaner brewery forced the breakup of its importer.

Its new importer, Distinguished Brands of Colorado, is trying to help Fuller’s remake its image, mostly by touting the lighter-tasting London Pride as its anchor brand. It also stopped producing its India Pale Ale, a sad loss.

The target is, obviously, Bass.

That’s a big fish. Bass is made by Coors.

It’s imported by Labatt USA, a division of Interbrew, the Anheuser-Busch of Europe. Its red triangle is the oldest corporate trademark in the English-speaking world.

Fuller Smith & Turner is an independent brewery, still populated by the same family that started it in 1845.

But Galsworthy notes London Pride already outsells Bass, seven to one in London, partly because of its vast pub holdings. (In England, brewers are permitted to own their own bars. )

“It’s unfortunate, but we have to compare ourselves to Bass, because that’s what people already know,” Galsworthy said.

“The flavor’s toned down a bit. I guess you’d call it ‘accessibility. ‘ “

Even Galsworthy swallows hard when he pronounces that word.

“It’s patronizing, frankly,” he said. “Consumer expectations have come up so far, and I think producers have failed to keep up with them. “

I don’t think we have to worry that Fuller’s is dumbing down to compete with Bass.

It still produces a beautiful London Porter, an ale that could show Guinness a thing or two about dark beer. And I won’t even get into that bottle of 2004 Vintage Fullers Ale that was just released; that baby’s so big, you’ll let it collect dust for three years before cracking it open.

But can London Pride beat Bass?

Probably not until it does something about its price.

London Pride goes for about $35 a case. Bass averages around $30 in Pennsylvania, with deep discounts over the border that put it into the low $20s.

But do yourself a favor and match up these Union Jacks in a bar, by the pint, where the price is about the same.

If flavor has anything to do with it, yes, London Pride can land Bass – hook, line and sinker.

Beer radar

I’m headed to the Great American Beer Festival in Denver this weekend. With 1,600 different beers on tap, it’s impossible to taste it all. Usually, my favorite flavors come from out-of-the-way breweries I’d never have a chance to visit. I’m looking forward to the music, too, of Colorado-based Gobs O’Phun, an Irish band whose CD of Celtic beer-drinking songs is brilliantly entitled “Liverdance” . . .

Eulogy (136 Chestnut St., Old City) is getting into the Eagles spirit, with a Sunday afternoon beer and football luncheon each weekend. Watch the big game with a plateful of Belgian fries, buffalo wings and beer brats, along with beers from a different featured brewery. This weekend: Weyerbacher. Tix are 30 bucks. Call 215-413-1918 for info . . .

New on area shelves: Appalachian Kipona Fest Lager, Unibroue Edition 2004, Grolsch Amber Ale, Samuel Adams Octoberfest, Anderson Valley Brother David’s Triple, Smuttynose Pumpkin Ale and Avery 11.

Calendar

Oct. 9 – Seventh annual Kennett Brewfest (Broad Street between State and Cypress, Kennett Square). Beer-tasting featuring more than 25 regional breweries, with food and music. Taps open: 2-6 p.m. Tix: $25. Info: 610-444-8188.

October 8 – Oktoberfest at the Farmhouse Barn (1449 Chestnut St., Emmaus, Pa.). Harvest beers paired with foods by chef Michael Adams, hosted by John Hansell of The Malt Advocate magazine. Cost: $70 per person. Starts 7 p.m. Info: 610-967-6225.

Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Yards Love Stout. 

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A COUPLE OF Philly beer guys are now members of one of Europe’s oldest trade guilds.

At least that’s what bar owner Tom Peters and beer distributor Eddie Friedland assume happened earlier this month during much pomp and circumstance on Brussels’ Grand Place.

The whole event was in French and Flemish – not these homeboys’ first languages. There were hours of solemn talk from bearded men in flowing robes and funny hats. There was a parade through the ornate square with a keg of beer held on a long pole. They marched into a Gothic room in City Hall, then to a nearby church. They bowed as a blessing was said to St. Arnold, the patron saint of beer. They bowed while one of the leaders put a medal around their necks. They bowed again when they were knighted with a giant mash fork. Then they were awarded diplomas hand-inscribed in something that looks like Latin.

It was official: They were now among the few American members of the 400-year-old Chevalerie du Fourquet des Brasseurs. That’s the Knighthood of Brewers Mashstaffs for youse guys on Passyunk Avenue.

No, you don’t have to call ’em “Sir. ” Mostly, it seems the honor meant they could drink for free at a beer festival following the induction.

Friedland observed upon returning to his family’s Edward I. Friedland distributorship in North Philadelphia, “I had influence for exactly one day. The next day I showed them my medal, and they told me now I had to pay for my beer. “

Peters nonetheless added, “It’s an incredible honor. “

Their induction was recognition of their contribution to promoting Belgian ales and culture in America. Or, as Friedland quipped, “We’ve been shamelessly huckstering this stuff for 20 years now! “

Indeed, Peters and Friedland are among a small handful of beer industry people who’ve created an entire Belgian beer renaissance on this side of the Atlantic, and especially in Philadelphia. (Randy Thiel, brewmaster at Brewery Ommegang, in Cooperstown, N.Y., and Joe Lipa of Washington’s Merchant du Vin importers were also inducted this year. )

In 1995, Peters – then manager of Copa Too! (15th and Spruce streets, Center City) – was the first barman to pour a Belgian (Kwak) on tap in America. Now a co-owner of Monk’s Cafe (16th and Spruce streets, Center City), Peters has hosted dozens of other Belgian “firsts,” including America’s first taste of draft lambic, the quirky sour ale with the funky locker-room aroma. Moreover, his Belgian-influenced dinners have helped awaken the whole notion of beer cuisine in this town.

And Friedland has been there every step of the way, tracking down obscure ales and – except for the kegs Peters manages to hoard for himself – distributing them to scores of bars around town.

Peters may not have been the first to surf the Belgian wave here. (If memory serves me correctly, that honor goes to Michel Notredame, the long-absent bar owner who ran Bridgid’s, then the now-defunct Cuvee Notredame. ) But since Monk’s opened, this town has evolved into Flanders-delphia, U.S.A.

In addition to Bridgid’s, at least two other bars – Abbaye, (3rd and Fairmount, Northern Liberties) and Eulogy (136 Chestnut St., Old City) – specialize in Belgian ales. Dozens of other pubs carry extensive lists of entirely obscure brews from Belgian micros and monasteries.

Our love affair with Belgian ales has spread to the local microbrewers. Victory, Stoudt’s, Yards, Weyerbacher, Flying Fish, Troegs – they all make at least one Belgian-style brew. Bethlehem Brew Works has an entire basement lounge, the Steelgaarden, devoted to Belgian ales.

It’s no exaggeration that some Belgian-made labels, like Cantillon the lambic producer, sell more bottles in downtown Philly than in Brussels itself.

Think about Chimay, the Trappist ale.

Here’s a Belgian beer made by monks at Abbey of Notre-Dame de Scourmont.

For decades, it was available only in bottles – the large ones corked and then cellared till fully matured.

Until 15 years ago, it was almost impossible to find anywhere in this country.

Peters, who travels to Belgium at least once a year, said he had been wheedling the monks for years, trying to persuade them to keg their beer. Philly, after all, is a draft town.

The answer was always “No, Americans don’t appreciate good beer. “

Friedland joined in with a few arm-twists.

Eventually, they persuaded the monks, then they pulled strings to make sure the shipment detoured past New York and headed to Philadelphia instead.

Two years later, Chimay is on tap at dozens of Center City bars, even at neighborhood joints.

The monks send hundreds of barrels to America every year, and Yuengling drinkers willingly pay seven bucks for maybe 10 ounces of the stuff.

It’s no wonder Belgium honored these Philly guys.

Calendar

Tomorrow: Beer historian Rich Wagner will speak on “The Breweries of Brewerytown” at Yards Brewing (2439 Amber St., Kensington). 2 p.m. Free. 215-634-2600.

Sept. 25: Oktoberfest at Ludwig’s Garten (1315 Sansom St.). The German restaurant’s fall fest is a brew-filled, daylong block party. Noon-9 p.m. No cover. 215-985-1525.

Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a bottle of Delirium Tremens.

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I HAVE NO sympathy for beer drinkers fretting about the end of summer.

Sure, now that the softball season is over and the lawn is mown, you’re crying because you don’t have an automatic excuse for draining half a case of ice-cold lager. But if you haven’t had your fill of summer brew by now, you just haven’t been trying.

Nonetheless, as a public service, here’s a sixpack of Joe Sixpack tips for making the best of the last weekend of the Summer of ’04.

1. Get a last taste of summer

Most drinkers’ idea of summer beer is Hoegaarden, the famous Belgian white beer. And, given the number of taps devoted to milky, lemon-topped brew, it’s hard to blame ’em.

There are plenty of other wheat beers out there, but most of them will be gone in a matter of days. Before they disappear, try one of these different flavors:

• Grant’s Mandarin Hefeweizen: No need for a slice of fruit in your glass; this brew tastes like it was made by Dole.
• Three Floyds Gumball Head: A very drinkable (as in all night), hoppy wheat beer from the strange folks in Muncie, Ind.
• Bayrischer Bahnhof Leipziger Gose: When you think German wheat beers, you think Bavaria; this one’s from the former East German republic. This once extinct style is made with salt, which gives it a sharp finish that plays off the lactic bacteria added during the boil. Very reminiscent of the refreshment of Belgian gueuze.
• Schneider Wiesen Edel Weisse: Like a wheat beer on steroids, it’s foamier, citrusier and breadier. According to the importer, it was originally brewed as an Oktoberfest beer, which explains the bulked-up body.
• St. Bernardus Witbier: Though this Belgian brewery is known for its high-alcohol abbey ales, it shows it can put out a relatively light wheat beer, too. It’s crisp and lightly spiced (orange, clove), with a slightly bigger kick than Hoegaarden.
• Hitachino Nest Red Rice Ale: I’d intended to pick up a bottle of this Japanese brewery’s refreshing wheat beer at the Foodery (10th and Pine streets, Center City) but grabbed this one instead. I’d apologize, only this was a happy mistake. After years of drinking horribly fizzy, rice-infused American lagers, this rice brew totally changed my view of that much-maligned beer grain. The rice is fermented like sake, then mixed with pilsner malt and further fermented with ale and sake yeast. It’s almost impossible to describe the result. Imagine if Pilsner Urquell made a red ale. Then add strawberries.

2. Cook up one last BBQ

For those who pack up the Weber when the leaves change, grilling time is almost over. For an end-of-the-season grand finale, try Beer Butt Chicken.

I’d been resisting this idea for years, believing the back end of a bird wasn’t the best place to deposit a can of my favorite adult beverage. Nonetheless, I succumbed last month and produced the best grilled chicken of my charcoal career.

Here’s the deal: Take a can of Bud, pour out the Bud and replace it with something drinkable. I used a spicy Yards Saison.

Rub your bird with any combination of “C” spices (chili powder, coriander, Cajun, clove, cumin, more chili powder). Then dump the remainder of the spices into the can with the beer.

Stand the bird upright and give the chicken the business with the can. Place it on the grill. (Be careful; Don’t dump the beer on your coals. )

Cook it over medium heat for about an hour, longer if you’ve got a big one. It’s done when the legs feel like they’ll pull off with a slight tug.

I don’t know how the suds help this recipe, but beer-can chicken is the most tender grilled chicken you’ll ever taste.

3. Taste a champion

One of the little-known secrets in the beer world is that Labor Day weekend is the best time to visit a brewpub. The reason?

Now’s the time when most breweries are putting the finishing touches on their entries in next month’s Great American Beer Festival in Denver. These are almost always the breweries’ most exotic, flavorful beers of the year – and brewers often put them on tap now for a last-minute taste and some customer feedback.

Nodding Head Brewery & Restaurant (1516 Sansom St., Center City) is pouring a malt liquor that will vie for metal.

All of Iron Hill’s locations are serving GABF entries, including a trio of past medal-winners (Kolsch, Munich Dunkel and Vienna Lager) at the joint in North Wales (1460 Bethlehem Pike). Look also for Oud Bruin, a tart Belgian ale, at Iron Hill in West Chester (3 W. Gay St.).

4. Brew your own

I usually shut down beermaking operations during the summer – it’s just too damn hot to stand over boiling wort for an hour.

But this is your last three-day weekend till Columbus Day, so break out the kettle and grab some hops. You’ll be sipping your own brew before the World Series starts.

For supplies, see Home Sweet Homebrew (2008 Sansom St., Center City) Barry’s Homebrew Outlet (Front and Snyder, South Philadelphia) and Keystone Homebrew Supply (779 Bethlehem Pike, Montgomeryville).

5. Throw a kegger!

You know you’re over the hill when you can’t remember the last time you woke up with an empty keg on the back porch. The empty plastic cups, the half-eaten pizza, the lacy underwear strewn across the couch, pouring the leftover flat beer down your toilet. . . . Good times.

The easiest way to get young again and not waste any beer is a minikeg. Several brewpubs and distributors are now offering 5-gallon kegs (also known as sixtels) of specialty ales.

For $49, you can pick up a fresh keg of Pacific Pale Ale at General Lafayette Inn & Brewery (646 Germantown Pike, Lafayette Hill). The Beer Yard (218 E. Lancaster Ave., Wayne) offers a wide variety of micros in sixtels, with selections from Allagash, Anchor, Brooklyn Brewing, Dogfish Head, Grants, Lancaster Brewing, Sly Fox, Stoudt’s and Weyerbacher, among others.

6. Get a jump on Oktoberfest

True beer fans know Munich’s Oktoberfest begins in September. That means local versions of the malty lager are just hitting the shelves. Look for Flying Fish Oktoberfish, making its first appearance in bottles. Other American micro Oktoberfests are produced by Harpoon, Saranac, Penn, Stoudt’s, Victory and Weyberbacher. *

Foaming at the mouth

“Now far be it from me to deny somebody a cold one, but producing an aluminum bottle that keeps beer cooler for a little while longer seems . . . on par with the ancient Romans filling their swimming pools with wine, or Imelda Marcos’ thousands of pairs of shoes. In other words, we’re clearly running out of things to spend our money on.” – Tom Bodett, CBS Radio, on Iron City’s new aluminum bottles.

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I REALLY WANTED to like the Miller Lite.

I truly wanted to sip the glass of fizzy yellow suds and declare, “I love this stuff!”

It would have been a complete betrayal of my beer-drinking principles, my long-held conviction that light beer is for people who don’t like the taste of beer. But under the circumstances . . .

The circumstances being Nicole, a 6-foot blonde, and Mia, a jaw-dropping brunette, who placed two glasses of light beer in front of me the other night at Chickie’s & Pete’s on the Boulevard and asked me to choose my favorite. Beer, that is.

As this was Miller’s ongoing Taste Challenge promotion, the beers in front of me were, of course, Lite and its mortal foe, Bud Light.

One of ’em – Nicole, Mia, it’s hard to believe, but I couldn’t keep them straight – poured me the beer, smiled and told me to, “See it . . . smell it . . . taste it . . .”

Gulp. I paused.

An hour earlier, a few blocks south in Mayfair, I was saturating myself at Friday the Firkinteenth, the quirky cask ale fest at the Grey Lodge. It’s a frantic event in which hundreds of beer-lovers jam a 1950s-style neighborhood tavern and suck down kegs (also known as firkins) of cellar-temperature ales. We ‘re talking extreme beer, here – over-the-top hops, caramel-like malt, coffee porter, black-as-ink stout.

Two things about the Grey Lodge firkin bash: there are no fizzy yellow beers and, with all due respect to the ladies who love real ale, there are no drop-dead-gorgeous, 6-foot models.

So you might say that by the time I arrived at Chickie’s & Pete’s, my palate was diluted, but I was still thirsty.

Which is the whole point of this peculiar form of beer sales, known at Miller as “experiential marketing.”

Get some good-looking girls, send them to a young, testosterone-juiced bar and start pouring your beer. Guys who have been loyal to their favorite brand since Britney was a virgin will switch on a dime.

Gavin Wolfe, an area sales manager for Miller’s Philly distributor, Muller Inc., marveled at the scene. Smiling at Mia, he said, “You can get anyone to change beers. All it takes is a free key chain. [Customers] think it’s a piece of gold.”

This is the sad but true reality of about 95 percent of all beer consumed in America. Most drinkers don’t think about what they’re guzzling; hell, given the ubiquity of light beer, they don’t even taste it. We drink Brand X because of TV commercials, because of the Coors twins or the Budweiser lizard, because of some flashy NASCAR celebrity.

You drink a specific brand, as Michael Shea, a Miller marketing manager noted, because you “go to a party and all they have is Bud Light. You just kind of fall in line, that’s what you get used to . . .

“You fall into something that’s either trendy or you’re comfortable drinking. You’re not really looking at the substance of the product.”

Naturally Miller, the nation’s No. 2 beermaker, believes that if people would just taste their beer, they’d give up their Bud in a second. I, on the other hand, believe that if people would just taste their beer, they’d wonder why they ‘ve been blowing their money on crappy lager for so long and switch to a handcrafted ale made right in their own hometown.

To its credit, though, Miller is at least using a bit more than cleavage and key chains to promote its product. Even if it lasts only a minute, the Miller Taste Challenge is an opportunity to interrupt all the mindless guzzling with a simple public service announcement:

Taste your beer!

“People don’t realize that they can have a light beer that can taste like something,” Shea said. “Obviously, there are a lot of light beers out there that don’t have flavor. We believe you don’t have to sacrifice a great-tasting beer just to have something that’s light.”

And so there I was, with cups of light suds in front of me, Mia and Nicole asking me to choose.

See it . . . One was golden, the other was not.

Smell it . . . No hops, but I think that was Opium by Yves St. Laurent.

Taste it . . . Crisp, light, with no discernible flaws.

After all that cask ale, neither aroused me, but both were tempting.

I chose one and Mia’s eyes dropped.

It was Bud Light, and I was toast.

 Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Otto’s Black Mo Stout.

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