An extensive list is just one thing that helps make a great beer bar. Quantity isn’t everything. Are local breweries represented? Are there unusual beers from other states and across the ocean? Does the list rotate with seasonal favorites and new releases? Is the staff knowledgeable? Has the beer been physically cared for en route to your glass? Is it served just as the brewer intended: fresh, at the proper temperature and in an appropriate glass? And—this is a biggie with us—is the establishment conducive to both drinking and conversation?

Luckily, America is rich in great beer bars where you can expect a perfect pint. So without further ado, let’s visit a few of our favorites.

No visit to Portland, OR, is complete without a stop at the Horse Brass Pub (4534 Southeast Belmont Street). It’s a quintessential British pub where the only New World concessions you’ll see are the BridgePort and Black Butte signs flanking the famous “Public Bar” sign. Well, that and a beer card filled with American craft brews.

Horse Brass opened in 1976, showcasing then hard-to-find imports. Later, it became the first establishment in Portland to offer local micros. There’s a good possibility you’ll see owner Don Younger holding court at the enormous wooden bar. Take a stroll around between pints and look at the posters and pictures, many of which represent military escapades from the days when the sun never sat on the British Empire.

The back-lit boards list the current offerings, which change frequently. So often, in fact, that our server told us that the two-day-old paper menu we picked up had several selections already tapped out. We ordered a Hogsback Stout from Mt. Hood Brewing Co. and a Double Mountain India Red Ale, both served from casks. The food menu is traditional English pub grub: fish and chips, bangers and Scotch eggs; and it’s moderately priced. Quality is Job One, Two and Three at Horse Brass.

The Falling Rock Tap House (1919 Blake Street) in Denver is another corner of heaven for visiting beer lovers. It’s located just a few blocks away from the Great American Beer Festival, and it’s where the brewers hang out after last call at the festival. About a quarter of the over 60 taps are dedicated to Colorado beer, with a wide variety of breweries and styles represented. We’ve been there several times; and even when it’s been packed to the limit, the staff always served us fresh beer at the right temperature.

In addition to a formidable draft list, Falling Rock offers 75 bottled beers: a wide selection of Belgian favorites; high-end selections from American micros, like Hair of the Dog and Dogfish Head; and a smattering of English ales. The décor is ‘70s “starving student”: overstuffed thrift shop chairs with wobbly legs and worn cushions; breweriana on the walls; and hundreds of empty beer bottles on the shelves, including long-defunct brands that will lead you down memory lane. Falling Rock fits like an old pair of jeans, very comfortably.

Forty-ninth State Brews

If your travels take you to Anchorage, be sure to stop at Humpy’s Great Alaskan Alehouse (610 West 6th Avenue). This is the destination for Anchorage’s serious beer fans. The lineup of over 40 drafts changes daily and leans heavily toward brews from the Pacific Northwest. There is also a big bottle selection and if you’re so inclined, single-malt Scotches. During our week-long stay we dropped in, sampled beers from around-the state, made a return trip and another… that alone tells you all you need to know.

Humpy’s isn’t a very big place, but its down-home charm attracts folks of all ages. Chances are it’ll be crowded, but if it is, order a beer at the bar and wait for a table to open up. It won’t be long. This place is fish heaven—a “humpy” is an immature salmon, by the way. Fish are depicted on the walls, and even more show up on the menu: halibut burgers and tacos, and even a smoked salmon Caesar salad. There’s live entertainment nightly and, unlike many places, it won’t interfere with your conversation.

Five thousand miles away, in the “other Portland”—Maine, of course—you’ll find The Great Lost Bear (540 Forest Avenue). Yes, as you might expect, it sports a large stuffed bear. Fifteen of the 65 taps are dedicated to Maine micros; and the beer selection changes so often that the Bear’s Web site warns: “We at the Great Lost Bear can not update our menu daily online (we’re too busy changing beer kegs).”

Oh, about that Web site. It also features the “Bear cam,” so you can use up your 15 minutes of fame while Web surfers watch you quaff. But first, take a few moments and wander around. The walls contain a complete flea market: stuffed animal heads, classic movie posters, pictures of long forgotten politicians and amusement park memorabilia. It’s a good place to eat, too. The menu is, as you might have guessed, eclectic. If you can’t find a satisfying accompaniment to your pint here, you won’t anywhere. And before settling your tab, ask your server if they have any “Support Your Right to Arm Bears” bumper stickers in stock. Regardless of your views about hunting, they make for interesting conversation.

The Ginger Man Pub opened in Houston in 1985. There are now four pubs in this “close-knit family.” They’re all a little different, and each has its own impeccable beer line-up. We haven’t been to all of them—yet—but let’s set a course for Houston (5607 Morningside Drive). First, though, bring your GPS, because this place is hard to find without some help. From the outside, it looks like a house with picnic tables on the front deck; inside a long wooden bar is the main attraction. The backyard is a small beer garden. The taps, which run the length of the bar, are equally divided between domestics and imports.

The Ginger Man is named after one of literature’s gamier characters. An autographed copy of J.P. Donleavy’s famous book is available for customers to thumb through, as are copies of Michael Jackson’s books. The location is close to Rice University and the Texas Medical Center. As you might expect, there have been more than a few serious conversations here over the years, all of them over some mighty fine beverages. Serving fresh beer from 75 taps for over 25 years is a sure sign of an educated clientele. And any place that sells souvenir t-shirts with the famous Shakespeare quote, “And I will make it a felony to drink small beer,” has got to warm your heart.

Our next stop is the Toronado (547 Haight Street) in San Francisco. But, there’s a snag: the word count police just shone the spot light on us. So this is where we’ll meet you in the next issue when we visit the City by the Bay. Until then—cheers!

Of course, there are some bars where the beer is not just a social lubricant, but a major topic of conversation in and of itself….

On October 4, 1957, the Russians launched Sputnik, inaugurating the space age. Three days later an equally momentous event for beer connoisseurs took place in Washington, DC: the Brickskeller opened its doors.

In the fifty years that followed, the modest, subterranean bar has grown into a national icon for beer lovers, with a collection of bottled beers that’s earned the Brickskeller a place in the Guinness Book of World Records.

But anyone can warehouse beer. Why are there a limited number of establishments like the Brick that have gained a national reputation, prompting beer geeks to detour 500 or 1,000 miles to bend an elbow underneath their roofs? What, besides a large selection, makes a great beer bar?

“As soon as I find out, I’ll tell you!” laughs Dave Alexander, the current owner, who’s just received still another plaudit for his efforts: last month, he accepted a Cheers Benchmark Award for the Best Beer Bar from Cheers magazine and the Adams Beverage Group.

The Brickskeller was a ground-breaking beer bar from the start. It’s founder, Felix Coja, a graduate of France’s Cordon Bleu cooking academy, decided to set his restaurant apart by offering a then unheard-of selection of 51 beers from around the planet. His son, Maurice, would push that number into the hundreds by the mid-1970s, sending a refrigerated tanker truck on a cross-country trek to pick up new labels from as many regional breweries as possible.

During the 1980s, Dave Alexander and his wife Diane (Maurice’s daughter) shifted the emphasis from collectors’ cans to American microbreweries, and eventually pushing the beer total upwards to over 1,300 bottled brands.

And what better place to enjoy these beers than in a veritable museum of beer memorabilia? The Brickskeller occupies the bottom two floors of a five-story building that was built in 1912 as a boardinghouse. The dimly lit bar has a feel of timelessness. Locked inside glass cases around the walls is a collection of antique beer cans. Customers are urged to order from the menus and not from the displays: it’s been more than 40 years since anyone brewed Soul Malt Liquor or James Bond’s 007 Special Blend.

An upstairs bar, with a stage, dart boards and about a dozen draft selections, is the scene of the country’s longest running series of beer tastings. In September 1985, host Bob Tupper, a high school history teacher from Bethesda, MD, and his wife Ellie introduced a lineup of exotic (for the time) beers that included Tsingtao, Grolsch and Beamish Stout. A more recent tasting, showcasing the beers of Port Brewing Co. in San Marcos, CA, featured Lost Abbey Judgment Day (a Belgian-style quadrupel) and Old Viscosity (a strong ale described as a “black barleywine”). It’s a testament to how our palates have matured.

A charity auction following the tasting raises $360 for Children’s Hospital, a local institution. When Dave was a youngster, the staff there nursed him back to health from a case of spinal meningitis. He’s reciprocated by raising upwards of $100,000 for his favorite charity.

Guest Tomme Arthur, brewmaster at Port Brewing, offers the best comment on the Brickskeller’s unique gemutlichkeit: “This is six years in a row that I’ve done something at the Brick, and I don’t even have any beer in the local market!”

English Atmosphere, Oregon Address

Across the country, in Portland, OR, the Horse Brass Pub has gained status as a beer landmark for its immense selection (53 taps, 60 bottles) and its authentic English atmosphere (darts, picture of the queen, six handpumps dispensing cask ale). For founder and owner Don Younger, it was a steep learning curve.

When he opened the Horse Brass in 1976, “I didn’t even know the difference between a lager and an ale!” confesses Younger. As for English pub culture, “the only thing I knew is that I liked the Beatles and Rolling Stones.”

Younger credits one of his employees, an English bartender (now retired) named Brian Dutch, with pointing him in the right direction. Brian liked English ale, so Younger added Bass Ale to his selection of four draft beers. As additional requests for beer reached his ears, he put in a fifth tap, for Guinness, then one for Beck’s…and it just sort of ballooned from there.

Dutch’s wife, adds Younger, helped him set up a kitchen that now serves such beloved British pub grub as Scotch egg, ploughman’s lunch and steak and kidney pie.

And Younger himself, who in his pre-publican days ran a regional sales office for Lever Brothers, morphed into the instantly recognizable figure he is today. With his raspy voice and flowing gray mane of hair, he reminds one of a prospector who headed West in search of gold and found his fortune by tapping a different vein.

What enables a pub to aspire to greatness? Younger cites the triumvirate of the owner, the employees and the customers: “People make it a pub.” He was worried how anti-smoking legislation, then sailing through the Oregon legislature, might affect his business. “Our regulars tend to be smokers; it’s a meeting place for them. We don’t have a proper place to go outside and smoke.”

Younger owns several other establishments, including a coffee house/pub (the Hedge House) and two brewpubs (the New Old Lompoc and the Fifth Quadrant), but he promises there will only be one Horse Brass. “People ask me, why don’t you open another, and I answer, hell, I don’t even know how I got this one to work.”

But it’s not impossible to operate a chain of better beer bars. The Ginger Man has four Texas locations (each with outdoor beer garden), and two “cousin pubs” in New York City. The Flying Saucer Draught Emporium operates 11 locations throughout the South, from San Antonio to Charlotte. The original location of the Capital Ale House in downtown Richmond, VA offers 48 draft beers, while a second site in the suburb of Innsbrook boasts 77 taps. A third location is set to open in the suburb of Midlothian by the end of this year.

Matt Simmons, president of the Capital Ale House group, notes that all servers are required to take a Beer 101 class, plus seminars in Belgian beers, German beers, and individual styles. Every shift, the management conducts tastings of seasonals and other newly arrived beers. The result is a well-educated bar, and waitstaff who can handle customers’ questions with ease: What does a witbier taste like? What other beers might I like if I drink a lot of Bass? What beer would go well with my order of bacon-wrapped scallops….or chocolate tort?