IN A YEAR that saw Anheuser-Busch actually brew a pumpkin-flavored ale, you might worry that small brewers would have a tough time coming up with anything original.
I mean, if the beer borgs of St. Louis are going to start churning out a quirky seasonal variety flavored with allspice and cinnamon, what’s left for an industry that depends on creativity and unusual flavor?

Hops, apparently.

In 2005, craft brewers continued pushing their beers toward the edge of bitterness with ample batches of freshly grown hop buds. Indeed, the simple India Pale Ale is no longer hoppy enough for American brewers. One of the most popular styles of the year was the Double or Imperial IPA, with levels on the International Bittering Units scale stretching into triple digits (a standard IPA runs about 50 IBUs). Excessive hops are now such a popular “extreme” ingredient that Boston Brewing boasted it was using “enormous, almost reckless, quantities of Hallertau Mittelfrueh hops” in its new Samuel Adams Imperial Pilsner.

Yo, I like hops as much as the next beer guy. But as you’ll see from Joe Sixpack’s Sixpack of the Year, craft beer offers plenty more than buds.

In no particular order, here are my favorite new beers of 2005.

1. Dreamweaver Wheat. Troegs Brewery in Harrisburg does not make a single bad beer. And some of its beers – Mad Elf, Troegenator Double Bock – are just plain great.

Add Dreamweaver Wheat to that list. The ale, spiced with the same yeast strain used to produce Mad Elf, is a thoroughly refreshing flavor bomb. Think mandarin oranges doused with cracked black pepper.

In the past, you had to hunt down this beer on tap. But Troegs this year thankfully made it part of its year-round variety bottle case.

2. George’s Fault. If you missed the final keg Nodding Head Brewery & Restaurant (1516 Sansom St., Center City) tapped in October, you are spit out of luck – unless brewer Gordon Grubb can persuade Home Sweet Homebrew owner George Hummel and former Philly beer legend Brandon Greenwood to return for an encore.

The trio twisted an old homebrew recipe and took home a gold medal at this year’s Great American Beer Festival – a fitting tribute to Philadelphia’s brew-it-yourself beer-making guru. But even if you didn’t know the background of Hummel’s ale, the taste alone would tell you that this one was special. Made with honey, orange peel and coriander, George’s Fault packed a huge flavor that cloaked its 9 percent alcohol punch.

3. Stegmaier Anniversary IPA. Released to celebrate the Lion Brewery’s 100th anniversary, this beer was welcome proof that:

A. The Wilkes-Barre facility is entirely capable of producing a much better bottle than its run-of-the-mill Pocono lagers and ales.

B. It can do it at a very reasonable price.

At about $18 a case, this IPA (another Greenwood creation) could be the ultimate go-to ale, reminiscent of those hop flavors of old Ballantine Ale. Crack open a bottle for a huge garden aroma, followed by a well-balanced malt kick. Sadly, it’s looking like Lion won’t continue brewing this in its 101st year.

4. S’muttonator Doppelbock. If Smuttynose from New Hampshire didn’t package a variety case with four different flavors, I don’t think I’d ever enjoy its beers down here in Pennsylvania. Good as it is, I don’t really want to get stuck with 24 bottles of, say, Shoals Pale Ale.

But I’d bend that single-flavor rule if we’re talking about S’muttonator, one of Smuttynose’s so-called Big Beers. This double bock – a rich, malty lager that’s the liquid equivalent of a fresh Amoroso’s hoagie roll – is the kind of beer you want to chew all night.

Except, you’ll fall over under the weight of an alcohol content that approaches double digits. Which makes me wonder why they bottle it only in those 22-ounce bombers. Those babies can inflict some seriously tasty damage.

5. Peche Mortel. Among beer freaks, this was THE huge, new beer of 2005. Bottles of this go for $20 or more, and still no one can keep it in stock, thanks largely to well-heeded word-of-mouth publicity.

It’s an espresso-flavored imperial stout by a Quebec brewpub called Brasserie Dieu Du Ciel, which roughly translated means “Oh my God! ” No kidding. Peche Mortel (Mortal Sin) is the brewery’s first bottled beer, and it breaks at least three or four of the Ten Commandments.

Like, Thou Shall Not Mix Caffeine and Alcohol. This is the beer Starbucks would pour if they carded you before filling those Venti cups.

6. Supplication. Having committed a mortal sin, the prayer for forgiveness is upon bended knee. For me, that was found in the humble, assured restraint of Russian River’s Supplication.

Fermented with three different yeast strains, this brown ale is intentionally soured, like a Belgian lambic. But it pulls back from that assertive, mouth-puckering sourness and fills the mouth with complex layers of flavor. One sip gives you oak undertones, the product of a year’s aging in used pinot noir casks. The next hits you with a subtle whiff of cherries. Then malt, then champagne, then cider and then those cherries again.

There is a lot going on in brewer Vinnie Cilurzo’s beer, but rather than discordant notes competing for attention, the flavors are in harmony. I hear angels singing – forgive me, I am suitably awed.

The 6 runners-up:

1. Saison Vos by Sly Fox Brewing (Phoenixville).

2. Samuel Adams Imperial Pilsner by Boston Beer (Massachusetts).

3. Gonzo Imperial Porter by Flying Dog Brewing (Colorado).

4. Fort by Dogfish Head Brewing (Delaware).

5. Urthel Bock by Brouwerij De Leyerth (Belgium).

6. Hop Hog by Lancaster Brewing (Lancaster).

Joe Sixpack was written this week with a 1996 bottle of Samichlaus.

-30-

In the beginning, Schmaltz Brewing’s Jeremy Cowan had a schticky idea for a beer: He’Brew, the chosen beer.

It was, he acknowledges today, a bit of inside joke – a kosher beer made for Jews, who aren’t generally regarded as the world’s biggest beer-drinkers.

Cowan’s first creation was Genesis Ale, an amber ale.

Genesis was followed by a brown ale called Messiah Bold, “the beer you’ve been waiting for. “

Both were decent beers. Drinkable, but hardly biblical in proportion. To me, the flavor just didn’t live up to the cute hype. (“Don’t pass out, Passover! “)

Then came Jewbelation 5766.

Finally, Hanukkah not only has its own beer, it has one of the best holiday ales – Christmas, Kwanzaa, Festivus, whatever – that you’ll find at your local beer store.

This is not a mere marketing gimmick. Jewbelation 5766, named after the Hebrew calendar, is a massive, seriously made beer. Brewed to celebrate Schmaltz’s ninth anniversary, the batch – cooked up by Olde Saratoga Brewing in New York – contained 9,000 pounds of malt and nine hop varieties.

As soon as it showed up in stores, before Halloween, it began turning heads, not an easy task up against so many other, extraordinary holiday beers.

Celebrator, the West Coast beer-trade paper, gave it a top rating of five stars.

The Pacific Brew News named it best of show in a blind-tasting of more than 30 wintertime beers, ahead of the likes of Anderson Valley Winter Solstice and near-mythic Alaskan Smoked Porter. “I think it is safe to say this was a surprise for most of us,” the newspaper acknowledged. “But this beer had it all. “

Even the prickly beer-raters at BeerAdvocate.com have been unanimous in giving it the thumbs-up.

“It’s fantastic,” Cowan told me in a phone conversation while on a cross-country tour to promote his beer. “This kind of response is exactly the goal I had in mind with He’brew. People are starting to take the beer really seriously. “

Which, admittedly, is a bit difficult when you plow through all its hilarious Jewish hype (“The first ever extreme high holiday beer”) and a wordy press package that attempts to explain why the number 9 is such an important digit in Hebrew life (it’s the age when Gene Simmons, of Kiss, first moved to New York).

Enough! How’s this stuff taste?

Dark brown with a tan head, Jewbelation 5766 explodes with a malty aroma right out of the bottle. The hops don’t jump out of the glass, but instead mellow that sweet flavor and disguise its very powerful kick.

OK, maybe I should have read more closely, but that big No. 9 on the label also refers to the alcohol percentage. When I fell to my knees after polishing off a 22-ounce bomber solo, it wasn’t out of religious devotion.

Cowan, ever the schtickmeister, can’t help but quip: “This Hanukkah, the candles won’t be the only thing getting lit. “

L’chaim!

FYI, most beer is regarded as kosher because its raw ingredients (barley, hops, water) do not violate the Kashrut, or Jewish dietary laws. The only concerns arise in beers with flavoring additives or specialty yeasts, like those used in barleywine.

The Chicago Rabbinical Council says all non-flavored U.S. beers, including dark beer, are kosher.

If you’re worried, several beers in addition to He’Brew are certified as kosher, including: Layla Dirty Blonde Lager, made in Israel, certified by the chief rabbinate of Ashkelon; Coors, Miller, Redhook and Negra Modelo.

And, of course, there’s always Manischewitz.

Beer radar

If weekly installments of Joe Sixpack haven’t been enough to keep you up to date with the Philadelphia beer scene, look for beer historian Rich Wagner’s copiously compiled “Craft Brewing in Philadelphia, 1985-2005. ” It’s 20 years of beer lit on a CD for $20, plus tax and handling. Info at his Web site, http://pabreweryhistorians.tripod.com.

Anheuser-Busch continues to develop edgier-flavored beers. Following its Halloween release of Jack’s Pumpkin Spice, A-B is pouring Winter’s Bourbon Cask Ale, brewed with dark-roasted caramel malts and aged in toasted bourbon oak casks with whole Madagascar vanilla beans. And these are the same people who make Bud Light?

This week’s column was written with a bottle of Middle Ages Wailing Wench. 

-30-

IT ONLY TOOK 70 years, but America’s cutting-edge craft brewers have finally discovered . . . the beer can.
Till now, these tiny brewers have distributed their quirky ales and lagers in either kegs or dark brown bottles. It was all about purity and taste and the protection of their delicate product from unpleasant flavors.

Cans? Those were for crushing against your forehead, dude. Microbrewed beer was high-class hooch, not frat-boy swill! Small brewers would no sooner give up bottles for cans than Napa Valley would abandon cork in favor of twist-off caps.

And then one day, Dale Katechis and his pals at Oskar Blues Restaurant & Brewery in Lyons, Colo., were sitting around joking about the next step for their young company. At the time, their beers were sold on tap, only; you’d have to drive up to the brewpub in the foothills of the Rockies north of Denver for a taste. How could they sell their product to a wider audience? Someone mentioned cans.

“It made us all laugh – craft-brewed beer in a can,” said Katechis, the brewery’s founder. “But then we thought, doing something different like that actually fit in with our philosophy here. ”

“Different,” of course, is the eye of the beholder. After all, breweries have been canning since 1935. Within 25 years, cans overtook bottles in popularity, and it’s been that way ever since.

Microbrewers, though, shunned cans from the start. That’s partly because modern canning lines could cost five times the price of bottling equipment.

Bottles were also more convenient: When brewers change flavors, from pale ale to stout, for example, all they have to do is slap a different label on the same bottle. Cans, by contrast, are pre-printed with the same label, and they must be purchased in huge quantities.

More importantly, there was also a snob factor at work. If you were going to persuade consumers to cough up $25 or more for a case, if you wanted them to sip your bottle-conditioned ales over candlelight dinners, you had to distinguish your product from the same old 30-packs of BudCoorsMiller.

Oskar Blues wasn’t the first craft brewery to break the rules. For a brief period in 1999, Philadelphia’s Dock Street Amber was canned by F.X. Matt in New York. Henry Ortlieb, who owned the company briefly, told me he did it so he’d have something to drink on his boat.

But Oskar Blues was the first to actually go out and buy its own canning equipment, a new, less-expensive version made in Canada.

It turns out, though, the cheaper cost is secondary to all the other benefits, according to Katechis.

“The can is not a gimmick but a great package for microbrewed beer,” he said. “The cans are lined , and they impart zero flavor to the beer. They keep beer fresher longer because the beer never sees sunlight. The dissolved oxygen levels are lower than the industry standard. They’re easier to environmentally recycle. And it’s easier to package compared to a bottle. ”

If Katechis sounds like a canned proselytizer, it’s partly out of necessity. “We were up against industry sentiment that ‘you just can’t do it,’ ” he said. “We’ve gotten a lot of joy out of turning people’s heads. The process of educating the consumer has gone a lot faster than we anticipated. ”

Indeed, in the three years since it canned its first beer, Oskar Blues has increased production tenfold.

Other small brewers are taking notice. According to Katechis, there are 26 U.S. microbreweries canning today, including highly regarded outfits like Tommyknocker, Ukiah, Big Sky and New England Brewing Co.

Sly Fox in Royersford, Pa., is expected to begin canning by next spring.

Aluminum isn’t for every craft-brewer, of course. I doubt we’ll ever see Brewery Ommegang put cave-aged Hennepin Farmhouse Saison into a can.

And it’s not for every drinker. “I do think there are some people who just won’t drink beer out of a can,” said Katechis. “It was like, when you were in high school, you drank out of a can. Unless you had a date, then you brought bottles.

“But we’re a bunch of rednecks in Lyons, Colorado, brewing really good beer and putting it in a can and laughing all the way to the bank. ”

So, how’s it taste?

Dale’s Pale Ale has more aroma than any beer I’ve ever chugged from a can. I can’t believe the hops make their way out of that tiny flip-top opening.

Likewise, Old Chub is a malt bomb. I actually poured this Scottish-style ale into a glass and was rewarded with a huge, billowy head and tons of toffee-like flavor. And it’s a kick, at 8 percent alcohol.

A brief history of the beer can

Jan. 24, 1935: First steel beer can, Krueger Brewing, Newark, N.J.

Jan. 25, 1935: Students at Rutgers University in nearby New Brunswick, N.J., perfect the shotgun.

1959: Coors produces first aluminum beer can.

1962: Iron City produces first pull-tab, eliminating need for church key. Pittsburgh steel industry begins decline.

1977: Debut of Billy Beer, named after President Carter’s brother.

1978: John Belushi crushes beer can against his forehead in “Animal House.”

2002: Can of Clipper Pale (circa 1941) goes for $19,299 on eBay.

Joe Sixpack’s column written this week with a can of Old Chub Scottish Style Ale.

-30-

NINE OUT OF 10 beers consumed in this country are the same dependable American-style lagers. But what about that 10th one?

Increasingly, it’s India Pale Ale, a style that resides defiantly at the opposite end of the flavor spectrum. Flowery, bitter and full of fruity aromas – it’s astonishing that this edgy style thrives in a world of indistinct sameness.

Yet, thrive it has. Today, it is almost certainly the No. 1 craft-brew style in America. At the annual Great American Beer Festival, IPAs have been the most popular judging entry in each of the past four years. I can’t name a brewpub that doesn’t make one; indeed, among many microbreweries, from Victory Brewing in Downingtown to Bear Republic in California, it’s the No. 1 seller.

Don’t believe me? Just take a look at the selection at your local beer distributor. The Beer Yard in Wayne, for example, lists nearly 80 IPAs, more variety than even among lagers.

Which is remarkable not just because their taste is so different from the mainstream, but because just 30 years ago, IPA was almost nonexistent on the American beer landscape, except for Ballantine India Pale Ale.

So, how did we get from one to possibly 1,000 different IPAs in just a few years?

As with most craft beer trends, it’s tempting to credit Fritz Maytag, the man who turned San Francisco’s Anchor Brewing into America’s first modern craft brewery. In 1976, he produced Liberty Ale for the nation’s bicentennial celebration. No, he didn’t call it an IPA, but Liberty Ale’s hoppy flavor soon begat a family of West Coast hopheads. Sierra Nevada, BridgePort, Mendocino, Rogue, Deschutes – they all pushed the hop button (mainly the grapefruity Cascades variety), first in their milder pale ales and eventually in beefier IPAs.

The deeper explanation for IPA’s popularity, though, might be found in the beer itself. This style was originally brewed in England in the late 1700s to cool the thirst of the Crown’s colonial empire in India.

London’s sweeter porters and lighter ales couldn’t survive the trip to Bombay. The solution, found by a brewer named George Hodgson, was to brew an ale to a higher alcohol level, then balance the increased malt content with more hops.

Hops and alcohol provided some preservative value to stave off sourness, Hodgson found. More importantly, perhaps, the increased bitterness tended to mask many off-tastes.

Two hundred years later, America’s young (and mostly self-trained) brewers discovered the same trick. As most shied from pasteurization, brewers learned IPAs could last a few more weeks on the shelf. And when they made the inevitable recipe mistake, they fixed it with a bit of dry-hopping (adding hops after fermentation). As one well-known brewer told me a few years ago, hops can hide a multitude of sins so easily, “a monkey could make an IPA. “

Well, maybe.

But the fact is, after making so many IPAs, American brewers have gotten pretty damn good at this classic European style. Except that, as with cars and rock ‘n’ roll, Americans make ’em bigger, better, faster and stronger.

“We’ve totally redefined the IPA in America,” said Brian O’Reilly, brewer at Sly Fox Brewhouse & Eatery in Phoenixville. “It’s a very extreme beer, the way it’s made now. “

The extreme nature of the style, I think, is the real reason for its popularity. Craft beer drinkers have left standard lagers behind; other varieties like Kolsch, pilsner, Oktoberfest – even lighter ales – are too subtle to do the trick. But a monster like Sly Fox’s hugely bitter Rt. 113 IPA knocks ’em upside the head and tells them in no uncertain terms why they laid out 25 bucks for a case.

“Our customers,” O’Reilly acknowledged, “just can’t seem to get enough of hops. “

Sly Fox will prove that point today with the eagerly anticipated culmination of its yearlong IPA Project. Throughout 2005, O’Reilly brewed and served a series of single-variety IPAs (using one hop variety, not a blend), saving a keg of each. Nine different single-variety IPAs will be tapped, along with a 10th, called Odyssey (a blend of the nine), as well as a handful of others. Together, the Sly Fox IPA Project boasts a staggering 14 IPAs served at one bar. And, no, they won’t all taste the same.

Sly Fox Brewhouse & Eatery (Pikeland Village Square, Phoenixville) celebrates its 10th anniversary today starting at 10 a.m. with a beer breakfast. All 13 Sly Fox IPAs will be available on tap and in growlers to go. Info, 610-935-4540.

-30-

JUST BACK from Brussels is Jessica Waltz, a bartender at Ten Stone and the first American to win the 9th annual Stella Artois global Draught Master competition.

The wha . . . ?

It’s sorta the Olympics of Suds, a grueling – make that, drooling – two-day pourathon pitting the top tap-handlers from taverns around the world. Each was judged on technique, presentation and stamina as they pulled two glasses of Stella Artois and a pint of Hoegaarden, and a single goblet of Leffe Brown poured from a large bottle.

With her aggressive coaster placement, unshaken glass selection and near-perfect foam formation, Waltz, 28, who lives in Center City, gave Philadelphia its first major title since the 76ers’ NBA championship in 1983.

I joke, of course. There was no ticker-tape parade for Waltz, but she’s already a celebrity in local beer circles. Since her victory last week, guests have been stopping in at Ten Stone (2063 South St., Graduate Hospital area), requesting a perfect pint from the reigning champ.

“Everyone wants me to pour them one,” Waltz laughed when I caught up to her earlier this week. “I was surprised word spread so quickly. “

For Waltz, the toughest part of the competition was those two Stella Artois. They had to be served side by side, with the identical amount of foam on each.

Yes, it was nerve-racking to be judged in front of the cheering crowd at Brussels’ old Vaudeville Theater. But she said that it was no tougher than hustling drinks on a busy Saturday night.

“Also, we don’t pour from a bottle at Ten Stone, so that’s something I never practiced before,” she said. “But now I know all the different things I’m supposed to do when I pour. “

Indeed, here’s World Champion Beer Server Jessica Waltz’s sixpack of pouring tips:

1. Introduce yourself and your beer. Guests want to know a bit about what they’re about to swallow.
2. Choose the correct glassware. A beer tastes better in its proper glass: pilsners in tall, thin glasses; Belgians in goblets or tulips, for example.
3. Make sure it’s clean and rinsed. Soap not only impedes foam development, it tastes downright funky.
4. Use cold glasses, not warm out of the dishwasher. But not ice cold. That’ll kill the flavor.
5. Don’t be afraid to pour a large head. True, American beer-drinkers think they’re getting cheated, but a large collar of foam looks better, protects the beer from smoke and actually adds to the beer’s enjoyment.
6. Use a head-cutter. Pour until you’ve got a half-inch of foam above the glass rim; these top bubbles tend to be larger, adding to gassiness. Trim them off with a blade so the remaining collar consists of compact bubbles.

For her victory, Waltz received a huge trophy and a free trip to anywhere in the world. And, of course, the glory of being the world’s best beer pourer.

Beer radar

Wondering what beer to serve with Thanksgiving dinner? Take a hint from Iron Hill Brewery & Restaurant, which is featuring a beer-pairing menu for $19.95 throughout November. Two of its food-and-beer matches would be welcome at any holiday dinner: butternut squash soup and Pig Iron Porter, and pan-seared duck breast with Abbey Dubbel.

Meanwhile, Newcastle Brown Ale suggests cooking your bird with beer. Forget the stuffing, just stand the turkey on its end and shove a can of beer inside, then cook over low heat on your barbecue grill.

Sly Fox just hit the streets with its first bottled beers. Till now, the Phoenixville and Roysersford brewpubs’ beers were available on draft only.

Look for 25-ounce corked bottles of Saison Vos, to be followed shortly by Christmas Ale, about $5 a bottle.

Also new in town, Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales from Dexter, Mich.

Try Oro de Calabaza, a biere de garde (8 percent alcohol) that won gold this year at the Great American Beer Festival.

Calendar

Today, tomorrow: Valley Forge Brewery Collectibles Show (Holiday Inn, 6170 Morgantown Road, Morgantown, Pa., exit 298 off the Pennsylvania Turnpike). Bring those old beer cans in your garage for a free appraisal, trade ’em in for other valuable beer junk. Doors open: 2 p.m. today, 9 a.m. tomorrow. $5.

Tonight: Yards Brewing rolls out its new Poor Richard’s Tavern Spruce Ale at Grey Lodge (6235 Frankford Ave., Mayfair). The Kensington brewery’s latest in its Ales of the Revolution series, honors Benjamin Franklin’s 300th birthday. It’s based on his spruce-and-molasses recipe.

And, yes, there’s a whole dwarf Alberta spruce tree in the batch. No cover, pay as you go. 215-624-2969.

Nov. 19: “Craft Brewing in Pennsylvania: Past, Present and Future,” a lecture by beer historian Rich Wagner at Yards Brewing (2439 Amber St., Kensington). No cover. 2 p.m. 215-634-2600.

Nov. 19-20: Great Brews of America festival at Split Rock Lodge (Lake Harmony, Pa.). Enjoy flavors from about 50 different craft brewers. Beer pours: 1-5 p.m. daily. $23. 800-255-7625.

Joe Sixpack, by Don Russell, was written this week with Hampshire Special Ale. 

-30-

TOO BAD the state of Connecticut backed down last month on its attempt to ban Seriously Bad Elf beer over the Santa Claus on its label.

The state had said that the British import violated its liquor rules because the label depicted a mean-looking elf with a slingshot firing Christmas balls at Santa’s sleigh.

The beer’s importer, Shelton Brothers of Massachusetts, blustered over the proposed ban and vowed to fight the ruling on First Amendment grounds. Connecticut’s Department of Consumer Protection then wimped out, finding that its Santa rule applied only to booze advertisements, not actual bottles.

Thus, the incident managed only to demonstrate the silliness of overzealous government regulators while providing a PR bonanza for an otherwise little-known beer.

Lost was a perfect opportunity to lay out some ground rules in what I predict is going to be the biggest battle for the liquor industry in the next 10 years. Namely, the reduction of America’s minimum drinking age.

There is growing sentiment among academics and some elected officials that the 21-year-old minimum fails to curb alcohol abuse. It’s hypocritical (18-year-old Americans can die in Iraq but they can’t legally pop open a Bud back home) and it likely promotes DWI (the automobile being the favorite place for teens to surreptitiously gulp ’em down).

Naturally, beer-makers can’t argue in favor of lowering the age to, say, 18, without facing the charge that they’re only interested in increasing sales.

What the public mostly hears, then, is only one side of the issue, from the likes of Mothers Against Drunk Driving and nattering do-gooders. The balance of this one-sided debate is further skewed when the industry – which talks a good game about fighting underage drinking – seemingly hands zealous anti-booze forces a gimme by plastering Jolly Old Saint Nicholas on a bottle of beer.

Of course, the Santa Claus contretemps, like the controversy over the minimum drinking age itself, is far more complex than that.

While several states (not Pennsylvania) have rules banning the use of Santa Claus in liquor-related advertising, most leave label regulation to the federal Tax and Trade Bureau, which does not ban Santa. Meanwhile, the voluntary code of conduct at the Beer Institute, the industry’s main lobbyist, prohibits the use of Santa Claus in advertising and marketing materials.

The rationale behind such bans is presumably that Santa’s reputation is an innocent one, a vision of sugar plums, not malt liquor.

Yet, as Tom Pastorius of Penn Brewing, in Pittsburgh notes, America’s image of Santa is also almost wholly a product of commercialization. “It was the retailers in New York City who used it to sell their products,” said Pastorius. “Before that, Christmas was almost entirely a religious holiday. ”

Indeed, Pastorius is careful to note that the label of his own St. Nikolaus Bock Bier depicts not Santa Claus, but a fourth-century bishop of what is now Turkey. It was St. Nicholas of Myra, famous for his gifts to the poor, who helped spawn the Santa Claus legend.

Whether you call him St. Nick or Santa, the image appears on plenty of other bottles, too. Santa’s Private Reserve, Santa’s Butt, Pere Noel, Kerst Pater and Delirium Noel all carry his image.

One of the most coveted holiday beers, Austrian-brewed Samichlaus, is obviously named after him.

Even if government regulators could crack down on every “violator,” the question is why bother?

Dan Shelton, who helped stir up this whole mess, correctly notes the image of Santa on a label is hardly inducement for a teenager to illegally down a bottle. “For one thing, kids that age don’t think Santa is cool,” Shelton said. “Plus all these beers are too expensive for kids, who just want to drink as much as they can to get drunk. ”

Yet it was just that party-hearty attitude that cost Bud Light back in the 1980s when it dressed up its Spuds McKenzie mascot in a Santa outfit. The beer packaging was quickly banned in a couple of states because it appeared to be aimed at kids, and Anheuser-Busch (which had used Santa in beer advertising as early as the ’50s) never stepped over that line again.

Today, the big beer-makers, at least, seem content to abide by the industry’s self-imposed ban.

Shelton, who is not a member of the Beer Institute, opposes that standard, saying it does nothing to combat underage drinking. Meanwhile, he says, a government ban of Santa is an “over-broad” step at the expense of his First Amendment rights to advertise his product.

Agreed. But unless these issues get a decent public airing, beer-makers can’t win. They’re going to have to contend with holier-than-thou nannies wagging their fingers, accusing them of exploiting a childhood icon.

And that helps no one, especially underage drinkers themselves, in the smoldering debate over the minimum drinking age.

-30-

THE DAY that beer freaks always feared is upon us. Rivers boiling, the dead rising from the grave, dogs and cats living together – Anheuser-Busch, the big, bad Evil Empire, is brewing . . . a pumpkin ale.

That’s right, the St. Louis behemoth that dumbed down American beer palates with bottle upon bottle of fizzy yellow rice juice is now producing an all-malt version of one of microbrewing’s signature quirky styles.

Pumpkin ale, of course, is not for everybody – and that’s why the new Michelob Pumpkin Spice Ale is so remarkable.

A-B makes zillions of gallons of flavor-deprived beer for the lowest common denominator; y’know, Bud Light. Indeed, the entire craft beer industry was founded on the self-evident truth that people were sick of drinking the same old BudCoorsMiller. And now, Auggie Busch is brewing a beer with nutmeg?

And guess what: It’s pretty damn good.

No, it doesn’t knock your socks off like Aunt Gertrude’s Thanksgiving pie. But this beer, also known on draft as Jack’s Pumpkin Spice Ale, is very drinkable, with a nice edge of Hallertau and Saaz hops. In fact, given how pumpkin ales tend to floor you with spices, this is one of the few I’ve tasted that had me reaching for a second.

A-B brewmaster George Reisch believes the hopping “was really the key thing” in this beer. “It’s well-balanced between sweetness and bitterness,” he said. “We weren’t worrying about overwhelming people on the initial aroma. This beer shows off the spices and pumpkin real well. “

It’s not like we ever doubted they could do it.

As Michelob product manager John Costello said, “We’re one of the world’s largest brewers, but we’re also one of the best. “

Maybe, but from the looks of it, much of that talent is devoted to producing perfectly consistent yet utterly insipid lagers. A-B cranking out a pumpkin ale is like Danielle Steele suddenly publishing “Naked Lunch. ” Where did that come from?

According to Reisch, the ale was first produced in A-B’s small test brewery in St. Louis, where young brewers are trained and new styles are sampled. Barleywine, Scotch ale, hefeweizen – the trainees knock them off, give them a sip and then dump them down the drain. A thirsty nation never gets to taste them.

The Pumpkin Spice Ale might have faced a similar fate, except lately A-B has been on a variety kick, putting out new brands and flavors to win over fickle consumers.

Initially, A-B had planned to distribute the ale only on tap, as the first of its new line of seasonal beers. But Costello said that after the company’s brewmasters got a good taste of it, they recommended making it part of Michelob’s annual specialty sampler, a 12-pack that includes a bock and a pale ale, among others.

“We’ve been brewing these beers for a long time,” Reisch continued. “It’s kind of like a debutante ball, to come out with these beers and have people actually see them. “

The pumpkin ale, Costello believes, will appeal to both “beer purists and beer novices. “

Compared to Budweiser and the rest, it’s just a blip, of course. But something’s going on:

Earlier this month at the Great American Beer Festival, A-B was named large brewery of the year, picking up five medals, including three golds. Yeah, a couple were for non-alcoholic faux suds, but it also won for Michelob Pale Ale. That’s right, a gold medal on craft brew turf, in a category dominated by the likes of Great Divide, Snake River and BridgePort – some of America’s best small brewers.

You wonder: What’s next?

A-B will continue its seasonal draft series with a winter warmer to be released in the next month or so. And keep your eyes open for Michelob Celebrate, a 24-ounce bottle of holiday lager spiced with vanilla beans and aged in a bourbon barrel. It’ll ring your chimes at 10 percent alcohol.

Could Budweiser Barleywine be next?

Beer radar

When in Cape May, stop in at the cozy Blue Pig Tavern in historic Congress Hall (251 Beach Ave., Cape May). The pub is now serving Blue Pig Tavern Ale in bottles, which between you and me is actually Flying Fish Extra Pale Ale bottled specially for the Victorian B&B crowd . . . Speaking of F.F., congrats to Gene Muller and the crew on its 10th anniversary. The world’s first dot.com microbrewery managed to make it longer on the Web than Pets.com, Flooz and Kozmo combined.

Why yell at your TV when you can suck down your craft beers and listen to beefy Eagles explain why Al Michaels is a dunce? It’s Monday Night Football with WMMR’s Matt Cord at Iron Hill Brewery (1460 Bethlehem Pike, North Wales), next week, featuring defensive lineman Sam Rayburn.

Philly-area brewers will be loading up the shelves in the next two weeks with their winter specialties. Besides 12-ouncers and draft, Troegs Mad Elf is heading down the T-pike this season in three-liter bombers.

Victory Hop Wallop is zeroing in, too, with a keg debut next Friday at Grey Lodge (6235 Frankford Ave., Mayfair).

Meanwhile, look for Magic Hat Saint Gootz, an unusual dark wheat ale like drinks like a chocolatey bock. Also new on area shelves: Pete’s Wanderlust Cream Ale, Speakeasy Double Daddy IPA and Wychwood Fiddler’s Elbow.

New Guinness flavors may be headed this way. The St. James’s Gate guys have fiddled with the recipe of their famous stout, producing a new version called Guinness Brew 39. It’s described as somewhat hoppier but with the same creamy body. It’s part of a series of new stouts that Guinness is introducing in Ireland to expand its portfolio.

Calendar

TODAY: Grab a taste of the final keg of George’s Fault, the Great American Beer Festival gold-medal winner from Nodding Head (1516 Sansom St., Center City). The grand cru style ale, which I wrote about last time around, was brewed by Nodding Head’s Gordon Grubb and Brandon Greenwood, and Home Sweet Homebrew’s George Hummel. Beer tapped 3 p.m. Pay as you go. 215-569-9525.

Nov. 4: Oktoberfest at Cannstatter (9130 Academy Ave., Northeast Philadelphia). Men in lederhosen, women in dirndls, oom-pah music by the Kapelle Fellas and lots of food and beer. Taps open 7 p.m. $7, $8 at the door. 215-855-3376.

Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Cricket Hill Blide’s Bitter. 

-30-

NODDING HEAD, the tiny Sansom Street brewpub, brought home a gold medal from the Great American Beer Festival in Denver this month, and this time it’s George’s Fault.

It’s also brewer Gordon Grubb’s fault, and ex-brewer Brandon Greenwood’s, too.

But in the days following America’s most important beer-judging event, Philly locals were pretty much in agreement that this honor truly belonged to the city’s beloved brewing guru, George Hummel.

Hummel, with his wife Nancy Rigberg, operates Home Sweet Homebrew, the beer-making shop just down the street from Nodding Head. Since 1990, the pair have provided ingredients and inspiration to scores of brewers, professional and amateur.

Tom Kehoe, the founder of Yards Brewing, for example, purchased some of his earliest ingredients from Hummel; other beerheads return to the shop for advice, especially on style (and, no, we’re not talking about untucked tie-dye shirts here).

It was a casual conversation about brewing techniques with Greenwood, Nodding Head’s first brewer, that led to the gold.

Hummel, who hosts and judges a variety of homebrew events, had wanted Nodding Head to brew a recipe based on the winning entry in a local contest. Greenwood balked but agreed to sit in with Hummel one afternoon while he brewed a typical five-gallon batch.

“He and I always had a thing going back and forth over beer styles,” Hummel said. “I’d critique his beers, he’d critique mine. ” Hummel jumped at the opportunity of brewing with Greenwood, who learned his craft in Scotland, because “he’s one of the most educated brewers I know. “

Likewise, Hummel impressed Greenwood with his own ingenuity: a converted picnic cooler used as a mash tun; an inverted garden sprinkler used to sparge, or cleanse, the spent grains.

The beer they made that day was one of Hummel’s mainstays, adapted from a recipe found in the pages of Charlie Papazian’s “The Complete Joy of Homebrewing”: Who’s in the Garden Grand Cru.

“I’ve torqued it so many times, it’s a different beer now,” Hummel said. It’s also a deceptively easy-drinking quaff, made with wheat and honey, then spiced with coriander and orange peel.

“It’s a beer that lovers of good beer taste and find that it has a lot of character,” Hummel said. “Conversely, I’ve heard women who say they don’t like beer taste it and say they love it. Even Coors Light drinkers like it. “

By the time Nodding Head got around to brewing a full-scale version of the recipe, Greenwood was heading to a new job at the Lion Brewery in Wilkes-Barre. (He recently resigned. )

It was left to Greenwood’s assistant, Grubb, to brew the batch, one morning last December.

“We made a lot of decisions on the fly, especially on how much spice to add,” said Grubb, explaining the difficulty of converting a five-gallon stovetop recipe into a seven-barrel (217 gallons) run.

And there was the matter of what to call it.

“When we were at the bar that day, the question came up, and Brandon said, ‘What will you tell people if this sucks? ‘ I told him we’d say it was George’s fault. And that stuck, mainly because the other suggested names were too disgusting. “

After a month or so of fermentation and conditioning, George’s Fault was finally ready to be downed.

“I was very impressed,” said Grubb. “Not only is it very tasty, but even though it’s 9.5 percent alcohol, it’s almost delicate. “

Not long after that first taste, Grubb and Hummel were sucking down beers at the annual Michael Jackson tutored-tasting at the University of Pennsylvania Museum. One of them was Midas Touch Golden Elixir, the honey brew from Dogfish Head that had won a gold medal at the 2004 GABF.

“We just looked at each other,” Hummel said. “Gordon goes, ‘Our beer’s better than this. ‘ “

That settled it. Grubb put aside a keg for the judges and Hummel made plans for his first visit to the big festival.

You already know what happened. George’s Fault took first place in the honey specialty lager/ale category.

Second place went to Midas Touch Golden Elixir.

“That was the icing on the cake, just beating Sam,” said Hummel, referring to Dogfish Head brewer Sam Calagione.

Not that a gold medal is changing life at Home Sweet Homebrew. This week when I called Hummel, he was vacuuming the shop carpet, hoping Nodding Head gives him the heads-up when it taps the last keg of George’s Fault.

In other Great American Beer Festival news, Iron Hill Restaurant & Brewery’s Wilmington location was named large brewpub of the year. It won two golds and a bronze.

Here are all the local medal winners. Note: Not all of the winning beers are currently being served or distributed.

Dogfish Head Brewing, Milton, Del., silver, Midas Touch Golden Elixir, specialty honey ale.

John Harvard Brew House, Devon, gold, Devon Altbier, German-style brown ale.

Iron Hill, Wilmington, gold, Belgian Strong, Belgian-style strong specialty ale. Also, gold, Kriek de Hill, Belgian-style sour ale; and bronze, Ironbound Ale, American-style pale ale.

Nodding Head Brewery & Restaurant, gold, George’s Fault, specialty honey ale. Also, bronze, Ich Bin Ein Berliner Weisse, German-style wheat beer.

Triumph Brewing, New Hope, gold, Honey Wheat, American-style wheat. Also, silver, Dunkel, European-style dark; and bronze, German Pilsener, European-style pilsener.

Triumph Brewing, Princeton, N.J., Czech Pilsener, Bohemian-style pilsener.

Beer radar

Dock Street Brewing, which helped launch the city’s micro-brewing revolution, is marking its 20th anniversary with specials around town this month. Tonight, a tasting at Bridget Foy’s (200 South St.). Dock Street, which formerly operated a Logan Square brewpub, now brews its Bohemian Pilsner and Amber Beer at FX Matt in New York.

Look for another odd brew from Dogfish Head to debut in Philadelphia at the Grey Lodge (6235 Frankford Ave., Mayfair). This one’s an African honey brew made with tree bark. The History Channel is expected to broadcast a documentary on the beer later this year.

Troegs Brewing’s Dreamweaver Wheat was so popular this summer, the Harrisburg brewery is now including it in its variety cases. And keep your eye out for Troegs’ insanely popular Mad Elf, the cherry-red winter ale. Bottles should be on the street in two weeks.

Calendar

Tomorrow: The Craft Beer Movement, a tasting with beer critic Gary Monterosso, at Aleathea’s Restaurant at the Inn of Cape May, (7 Ocean St., Cape May, N.J.). While in town, stop in at Congress Hall (251 Beach Ave.) and sample its new Blue Pig Tavern Ale, brewed by Flying Fish. Beer-tasting, 2 p.m., $25, 609-884-5555.

Oct. 21-22: Five-course Oktoberfest dinner at the Farmhouse (1449 Chestnut St., Emmaus, Pa.), hosted by John Hansell, publisher of The Malt Advocate. 7 p.m., $75, 610-967-6225.

Oct. 22: Lehigh Valley Brewfest at the State Theatre (453 Northampton St., Easton). Free food and plenty of drafts from local brewers. Tipplers advisory: Keep an eye out for Fred, the ghost who reportedly haunts this historic former vaudeville theater. Beer pours noon-3 p.m. and 5-8 p.m., $30, 610-252-3132.

Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of Paulaner Oktoberfest.

-30-

SEEN THOSE posters for Moosehead around town? They’ve been popping up on telephone poles on South Street, Old City and elsewhere. No names, no ad copy, just a green silhouette of a moose head.

You’re witnessing the start of a quirky marketing campaign to revive one of Canada’s classic but forgotten lagers. Whether it works or not, Moosehead’s effort to rebuild its brand reveals much about how beer-makers struggle to win hearts and mouths in a world dominated by BudMillerCoors.

Not surprisingly, it has more to do with image than actual flavor.

Twenty years ago, Moosehead was the No. 3 imported beer in America, behind Heineken and Lowenbrau. Today, unless you live near the brewery in St. John’s, Canada, it’s practically extinct.

Blame the decline on aggressive marketing by the competition, as imports from Mexico, especially Corona, leapt forward. Or on changing tastes, as consumers switched to light. Or just lack of attention, as the brand’s U.S. importer switched hands over the years.

Whatever, Moosehead faded till it became almost a nostalgic thirst-quencher. According to Shamus Hanlon, brand group director of marketing for its current importer, Gambrinus Co., the average Moosehead drinker is 42. Its biggest fans are guys who guzzled it with abandon in college but who now have gray hair, a mortgage and a wife who’s on his case to lose that gut.

“In the beer business, it’s a young person’s game, a numbers game,” Hanlon said. “Your consumption from the time you start drinking at 21 will halve by the time you’re 25. And it will halve again by 29. By 29, you’re drinking one-quarter what you did at 21. So, as a brand that wants to remain healthy and grow in a tough industry, you’ve really got to do a good job of getting consumers into your franchise when they’re young. Otherwise, it’s much more expensive for you later.”

Time for a little Grecian Formula.

“The effort,” Hanlon said, “is to get the brand younger and get the brand back onto the radar with our primary target, 21- to 29-year-old males.”

Gone is the familiar but old-fashioned outdoorsy image. Even those proud Canadian roots – once a synonym for strong, naturally brewed lager – are getting soft-pedaled.

You want to sell something to 20-somethings, think tattoos and flashy graphics. Think edgy culture and rebellion. Think iPods and takeout pizza and alternative newspapers and Death Cab for Cutie.

Think Moose.

Forget the beer’s flavor or its price. When the brewery’s marketers and ad agency, Tom, Dick & Harry of Chicago, asked its target audience what one image they had of Moosehead, they kept coming back to the damn moose. Not the goofy one in Saturday morning cartoons. For younger people, there was something appealing – positive and independent – about a 7-foot tall creature with skinny legs and a rack of antlers the width of a Winnebago.

“Young people don’t view the moose as Bullwinkle-ish,” Hanlon said. “They don ‘t really remember ‘Rocky & Bullwinkle.’ It doesn’t come off as a cartoonish character, big, dumb and lanky, like a different take on a cow.”

Moosehead’s marketers realized, Hanlon said, there was “a tremendous equity and relevance in the animal itself.”

If they could sell the moose, they could sell the beer.

We’re not talking Marlin Perkins, stalking-the-wooly-mammoth kind of moose here, though.

Moosehead’s moose is meaningful, intelligent and… horny.

A copy on one upcoming ad explains, “Before mating, a male must follow a female around for a week. One night in a bar doesn’t seem so bad.” Another says, “During courtship, a moose’s neck becomes swollen, his eyes bloody and his temper short. But at least he doesn’t have to dance.”

The idea, Hanlon said, was to take the moose “then cross-mate it with a 21- to 29-year-old guy… They’re practically the same!”

Those ads are still a couple of weeks down the road. For now, Moosehead is simply promoting the moose as a recognizable icon, a la Apple’s silhouette or Pepsi’s swirls. Illustrated with concentric circles, heavy on the green and gray, the image is supposed to be, in Hanlon’s words, “contemporary, hip, energetic.” It’s showing up in bars, on pizza boxes, in alternative weeklies, “literally down to the street-level.”

That tack is mostly a matter of necessity. Moosehead doesn’t have the dough for a national TV campaign.

But this non-traditional, or guerilla, approach to brand marketing can work. Red Bull and Pabst Blue Ribbon, notably, have sold tons of cans without glossy magazine ads and 30-second spots on Monday Night Football.

“It’s a type of approach that speaks more effectively to young adults than going toe-to-toe with Bud, Coors and Miller,” Hanlon said. Young people have “grown weary of bad advertising, of the tonnage that crosses their desk, their radio, computer screen and iPods. It requires a much keener message and one that ‘s more relevant to them.”

Hanlon hopes that the graphics and, later, its quirky messages will catch their attention even before the word, “Moosehead,” ever appears on the ads. “It allows them to make the message their own as opposed to having it forced down their throat,” he said.

As the campaign was launched in Philadelphia and three other cities this week, Hanlon said he had already seen signs of success.

“I literally saw young adults tearing down the postings, hauling them off for their own,” he said. “It’s very interesting, the response. It’s not like anything we’ve seen before.”

Swallowing the advertising is one thing. Moosehead hopes that, next, they’ll actually swallow the beer.

Beer radar

As you’d expect at this time of the year, the shelves are full of Oktoberfest. In addition to the six official Munich versions (Spaten,  Hacker-Pschorr, Paulaner, Lowenbrau, Augustiner, and Hofbrau), look for the always spectacular Ayinger Oktober Fest-Marzen(available locally on tap). Erdinger spins a new twist with a wheat version of the malty lager, called Oktoberfest Weizen. No shortage of Oktoberfest from the Yanks, either. Try Oktoberfest from Sam Adams, Harpoon, Brooklyn, Appalachian, Victory, Flying Fish and Stoudt’s…

Also new on local shelves: Peg Leg Imperial Stout, Harpoon Amber Ale and Birrificio Italiano Cassissona…

And keep an eye out for Lion Brewing’s 100th Anniversary IPA. Early tasters put the one-time-only Wilkes-Barre specialty in a league with the highly regarded Stoudt’s Double IPA. The steal: You should find it under $20 a case, about $5 less than the going price for a high-octane IPA.  Calendar

Tomorrow- Oktoberfest at Ortino’s Northside (1355 Gravel Pike, Zieglerville). Bring your lederhosen to this gem of a beer joint in the middle of nowhere and wash down a German-style buffet with a hefty selection of traditional Oktoberfests served on tap. Live entertainment. Tix: $25, $28 at the door. Info: 610-287-7272.

Tomorrow- “Ortliebs, Brewers by Birth since 1869,” a history of the now-defunct Northern Liberties brewery, by beer historian Rich Wagner. The lecture, at Yard’s Brewing (2432 Amber St., Kensington), is free. Info: 215-634-2600. Starts: 2 p.m.

Sept. 24- Oktoberfest at Ludwig’s Garten (1315 Sansom St., Center City). An all-day block party at the city’s best German bar. Taps open: Noon. Info: 215-985-1525.

Sept. 25- Sippin’ by the River, the annual beer- and wine-slurp at Penn’s Landing. Taps open: 1-5 p.m. Tix: $25, $30 at the gate, benefits Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation. Info: 215-396-9100.

 Joe Sixpack, by Staff Writer Don Russell, was written this week with a glass of St. Feuillien Brune.

-30-