The First Nominee, According to Me.

We're only three days into qualifying here at Thirsty Pilgrim Mobile Headquarters, but there's already an early candidate for Perfect American Craft Beer: the Bitter American from San Francisco-based 21st Amendment.

Full of zesty hop flavor and aroma, dry and sessionable, with enough malt backbone for balance but checking in at a svelte 3.6 percent strength. Inspiring, nearly perfect, and handpicked by 1-year-olds everywhere for thirsty dads. Especially those throwing down sausage-and-peppers pies at Pizzeria Paradiso on this sultry DC afternoon.

I get to drink the beer, and the boy gets to eat the pizza crusts. That's the deal, and it's a fair one.

Wow, this city is a swamp. And I submit to you that the work of pushing a baby stroller is nearly identical to that of a lawnmower. Although they each have their on unique challenges.

It really is an outstanding beer. On a list full of really interesting options, I had to order a second one and skip all the rest. One knock against it is that it's summer seasonal only. With luck and sales maybe it will go year-round.

What's Your Best Train Beer? And an Argument for Cans.

I'm not talking about the tin-can, train-station swill to which we often resort when nothing else is available. I'm asking about your greatest coup... What's the best thing you've drunk on the train? A Westy, maybe? And did you have the proper glass for it?

It's an occurrence that borders on tradition... We take the train from Brussels to some beer fest or other event, out there in the hinterlands somewhere. We memorize the departure times of the last three trains back to Brussels, and we never ever catch the first two of these. Oh hell, we can spend these last 10 tokens if we wait 40 minutes and go for the last train out... Then, 50 minutes later: Time to book it! Grab something good for the train!

After the hop fest in Poperinge we went with the Petrus Blond, a bit sweet and pretty drab by Belgian standards. The Bavik café next to the station was happy to oblige, even if they had never heard of the brewery's aged beers. It got the job done.

Following last year's Brassigaume my friend Matt and I grabbed one (or was it two?) bottles of Saison Dupont and made use of our tasting glasses. Then the train packed up with post-holiday students on their way back to school, standing in the aisles and sitting in each other's laps. We felt it was only polite to share. By then I felt a bit ill from motion and claustrophobia and just possibly from too much beer. Unfortunately a pack of younglings had hemmed me in, preventing ay dash for the men's room. I managed to fight the bear and win, as we say in the Ozarks, but that was a long ride back from Marbehan.

Then last Friday was Hasselt's excellent Bierweekend. After more than three hours of festing Kjeld and I accidentally-on-purpose missed the last direct train to Brussels and opted for the change in Leuven. We grabbed two 75cLs for the ride – the hoppy blond Lupulus from 3 Fourquets and the quasi-mysterious Helkiase from Dupont. (I suspect that last to be the Vielle des Estinnes with another label, this one made for a medieval hospital museum in Lessines.)

Both were tasty but that saison-ish and refreshing Helkiase really won me over. Unfortunately it also hit the seats and the floor. I returned from a trip to the toilet to find a guilty-looking Kjeld and beer splashed everywhere. Apparently the train had lurched and he was unable to save my glass. Something seems to have dulled his reflexes. We were the only ones riding the train except a conductor, and he was less than impressed.

That's the problem with glassware on the train, isn't it? Once it spills, you've lost that beer. But a tin can... You might lose a few glugs before a dramatic and triumphant rescue.

That gets me thinking more about cans. I'd love to see a few Belgian craft breweries start using them, as some American ones do (see 21st Amendment or the mighty Oskar Blues). In terms of quality there is no reason not to do it. Yeah, there's a certain loss of aroma and prestige.

On the other hand, you look like a real asshole drinking from a tulip glass while fishing.