The 13th Annual Indiana State Fair Brewers Cup Competition, July 8 and 9, with 1,071 entrants became one of the largest U.S. craft beer competitions. Ninety nationwide judges tasted and rated brews in 23 main categories with 78 subcategories.

Newcomer Bier Brewery won the Brewers of Indiana Guild Champion Brewery trophy over runner-up Crown Brewery and third-place Upland.

Michael Pearson (Indianapolis) won Homebrewer of the Year for a second time (2008) with four first-place brews, narrowly defeating fellow MECA Brew Club member and best friend Bill Ballinger.

Upland's Persimmon Lambic Sour Ale won Professional Best of Show. Chris Ingermann (Muncie) won Homebrewer Best of Show.His winning recipe will be brewed and served at Broad Ripple Brew Pub.

Indiana's homebrew clubs featured their brews at the awards banquet in the State Fair's Farm Bureau Building.

All the gold, silver, bronze winning homebrew and professional beers will be on display in the Ball State Agriculture/ Horticulture Building during the Indiana State Fair, Aug. 5 – 21.

Full list of winners at www.Indianabeer.com and www.brewerscup.org

In response to all of the 'is it true?' questions we've been getting over the past few days: we don't have a lot more information than the sign on the door and what Barley Island posted on Twitter and Facebook earlier this week. But it does appear that their Broad Ripple brew pub is permanently closed. On the 27th, a post on Facebook said simply:

Sorry to post that we closed Barley Island in Broad Ripple today. Thanks for your patronage, visit our brewpub in downtown Noblesville for growler refills, great food and good times.

Consult the Barley Island website for more info, or check their Facebook page.

• A quick rinse. Photo by Kris Arnold.

“This is why I watch football games at home,” remarked my father as we crossed the threshold into this year’s Winterfest.

True, the din inside the Indiana State Fairgrounds’ Agri/Hort Building on Saturday was overwhelming, a sensory-overloading mishmash of boisterous brewers and consumers mingling over mini-pints. But their jostling and pushing did little to detract from the vast array of good, local beer on site.

Well, “good” by the standards of those who actually know craft beer. Right off the bat I was decidedly self-conscious of just how unqualified I was for this particular adventure. The extent of my beer knowledge is limited to comparisons of caloric content between the standard college-party offerings, Keystone vs. Coors Light.

It wasn’t until editing NUVO’s Jan. 26 cover story that I began to consider the nuances of craft-beer appreciation. The endless considerations in testing brews were baffling to me, but I was intrigued enough by the cliquish hedonistic culture weasel some tix to the sold-out event.

I felt like a fraud on Indiana Brewers’ Guild territory, armed only with the dumbed-down beer how-to bullet points found in last week’s merciful sidebars. To illustrate, were you aware that beer is made up of hops, yeast and water? Of course you were. I, on the other hand, was essentially embarking on the beer equivalent of a blindfolded joyride.

After collecting our roadmap programs and souvenir glasses, we stopped to take in our surroundings. The Guild had turned the space into a formidable convention center for Indiana’s beer nerds. And though the venue could have benefitted from more dump-and-rinse troughs stationed throughout, conditions were otherwise perfect for enthusiasts to browse the snaking labyrinth of brewery booths.

We started our Tour de Froth at Shoreline Brewery’s booth; I selected the Bavarian Bombshell, a brown ale, because our program’s description mentioned chocolate and I happen to be a hormonal 23-year-old girl. It’s my cross to bear. I would soon learn that choco-beer is just too rich for me past the first three sips. This revelation somehow did not stop me from sampling roughly four more variations.

Moseying to Mad Anthony Brewing Co. next door, my dad and I both tried out Good Karma IPA — again, I was lured in by the beer’s boast of caramel malts. Even to a rookie palate, the bitterness of the hops was striking. Next we made our way to Broad Ripple Brewpub’s booth; manning the bar were some familiar faces from our regular Sunday night dinners, who supplied us with the Monon Porter and the Marzen. I found myself again leaning towards the lighter latter.

Just a few stops down the same aisle, we discovered our unanimously agreed upon favorite at Bee Creek Brewery; their Hoosier Honey Wheat was a dream, for newbies and aficionados alike.

Though much of Winterfest’s appeal is its celebration of local breweries, we felt it would have been downright xenophobic to miss out on sampling the out-of-state brew lines. We never made it over to North Coast Brewing Co., but the east coast was well represented indeed.

Brooklyn Brewery’s Brown Ale almost did me in with its triple-threat backgrounds of coffee, chocolate and caramel. Massachusetts and Vermont transplant Harpoon Brewery was up next — truthfully, it was likely due to the novelty of their UFO Hefeweitzen that we were drawn to the vendor. I preferred the wheat beer to its bitter brother Leviathan Imperial IPA, which boasted a whopping 10 percent alcohol content.

We promptly got back to our Midwest roots though, tolerating the long lines in front of Sun King, People’s Brewing Company and NUVO’s cover darlings at Bier Brewery. Honestly, the wait was a hidden boon — plenty of time to digest and metabolize the rich samples.

With full bellies and a buzz, at least on my lightweight part, we left Winterfest very satisfied with the overall sampling experience. I’m still holding onto my embarrassingly obvious neophyte status in the craft-beer business; I’d do well to avoid serious conversation on the matter with a connoisseur.

But at the very least, I may now be able to hold my own on the customers’ side of the bar, equipped with the self-awareness that I’m generally a lager girl. Thanks to the fine, benevolent brewmasters of Indiana and beyond, I can shed the last threads of my collegiate safety blanket and branch out from my uninspired, often unsatisfying beer orders. PBR be damned!

Up until last week, I didn’t actually know what mead was.

I knew it was an alcoholic beverage. I knew it was in Beowulf and other Old English literature (thank you, English degree). Besides that, I had no clue just what the stuff was. That’s why I’m glad New Day Meadery has finally opened its doors. It turns out that mead is delicious!

As I’ve discovered, mead is similar to wine, but with fermented honey replacing the grapes. New Day Meadery, which opened earlier this summer, uses only locally cultivated honey and locally grown fruits for their various flavors. When you’re tasting their mead, you’re tasting pure Indiana.

I went into the shop and was quickly greeted by Renee, the shop’s friendly and helpful hostess. She suggested we try the full flight: small samples of their 8 varieties for $5. It’s a great way to figure out what you like while on a budget.

Since fermented honey tends to be on the sweet side (go figure!), I was impressed by the selection and quality of dry meads on hand. My personal favorite was the Peach Mead, which was fresh and bright.

The sweeter meads were especially sweet and intense. If you are a fan of ice wine, you’ll like these. Hands down, I’d take the Semi-Sweet Black Raspberry Mead. While Renee suggested pairing it with dark chocolate, I could easily see having the mead as dessert by itself.

The Meadery is planning on having a small food menu coming soon. Because they’re only offering crackers to munch on at the moment, Renee encouraged me to bring in lunch from one of the neighborhood restaurants the next time I came into the shop. They want New Day Meadery to be a place for community, where friends can enjoy good company and good drinks. I know I’ll be back soon.

New Day Meadery is at 1102 Prospect Street in Fountain Square. It’s open all week from 11:00 a.m. — 9:00 p.m. For more information, visit www.newdaymeadery.com.

• courtesy photo
• The 'floating arm' is just one of many of Zane's signatures.

In the meantime, you can catch Zane's “Drinking Made Easy” Comedy Tour live next Tuesday at the Athenaeum (and, most likely, the Rathskeller immediately afterward). It's the namesake of the show he's currently shooting for the HDNet.

Me: So from your June 8 blog post, it sounds like “Three Sheets” will be on Travel Channel.

Zane: I don't want to make the official announcements because I want (Travel Channel) to be involved. Basically, they called me up [Tuesday] and said, “we want to have a conversation about the show.” And I'm like, “aaand? Get to it … ” I could not judge her tone from the opening of it.

They love the show. They aired a few episodes for about a month. It rated well, so they are acquiring the entire library of 52 episodes from Fine Living Network and they'll start airing them on Travel, and if people are receptive, we'll air a new season. It's been about 18 months since I've [taped “Three Sheets”].

Would there be any changes to the show on Travel?

It wouldn't change the show at all - our mantra would be that we would not. If we were to shoot another episode, we would not change a thing.

I hear the “Drinking Made Easy” for HDNet will focus on US cocktails and customs. I'm sure you'll visit New Orleans - where else?

We're on tour, doing about 50-plus cities on our comedy tour.

We're only in each city for a day and a half; I have Steve McKenna and [buddy comedian Marc Ryan] go out and cover things I'm not able to cover 'cause of time constraints. It's fun; it's going to be more crazy than “Three Sheets.” It will satiate.

Can you give us a teaser?

“Three Sheets” is me talking with locals. The crew are my very, very good friends, and we have a blast. Now I'm on tour with my two best friends. And as happens when you're out with your two best friends, sometimes you stay in one location a little too long …

We are going around and learning about the drinking customs: i.e., in Philly there's a place called Yards, and it's a brewery that makes beer with recipes from like Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, etc. They're really interesting ales - one from Ben Franklin has spruce in it. We also went to New Orleans and sat down with the woman who invented the Hand Grenade; we went to Pat O'Briens; went to Jean Lafittes, the oldest bar in country.

It's a lot easier to shoot over the course of four days. With this, we have to jam it in to like a day and a half. The point I'm making is, by the last location, it may be a little crazier than the first location. The [point] is to explore the culture, learn about the history of drinks, discover unique drinks.

I give out my e-mail - ZaneLamprey@gmail.com. Some days I get hundreds of them, but I address them all. But a lot of people say, “You should go here,” talking about these bars that are a lot of fun.” We're not looking for that - we're looking for, say, Chicago originals, like Goose Island.

In Phoenix [finding locally sourced and created beverages] was difficult; in New Mexico it was difficult. People will say, 'go to this place, it's an amazing tequila bar' - but tequila is not from here. [We want to find] what's from here. In the East Coast it's easy - sometimes a little too easy, there are lots of choices. In the Southwest, like Santa Fe, Phoenix - those are newer cities than Boston and Philly.

Do you try to find “originals” at every city you stop at for the comedy tour? What about Indy?

We were supposed to have been in Chicago, and then we had so many people in Indy that said, “Hey man, why don't you add us,” so we added it. It's interesting having to plan to be able to shoot, because I can't come there and do an episode, and shoot six or seven segments, and then go and do a show … time wise, it's not possible. We were in Pittsburg last night [Lamprey was in Columbus during this call], and will be in Cincy tomorrow.

• Phillip was Girls Pint Out's Dark Lord Day mascot. He kicked the day off with a splash.

But that's how it goes. You get to the grand city of Munster, Indiana, at some ungodly minute in the morning, assuaged only by the hour you gain that close to Chicago and your coffee-flavored beer breakfast. The crowd of 5,000-plus puts a little wind in your sails, too.

The last two times I've gone it's been overcast and humid, but that's not terribly bad drinking weather, if you consider the alternative: increasingly ripe bodily odors in a line that doesn't quit.

I spent a couple of hours in that line to get the once-yearly manna, Dark Lord. It's Three Floyds Brewing Company's mean ol' mo'fo of a Russian imperial stout. The guy on the bottle would clearly eat you, given the chance.

For the record, this isn't my favorite style of beer — at least, not right away. At first, it's viscous as molasses, but the 12-plus percent ABV gives it lots of nasty bite. Like tequila, but not as smooth. Hot like it. The 2008 is just getting drinkable, and when I'm in the right mood, it's pretty damn good.

But you don't go to the event just for new Dark Lord beer. You go for the ridiculous counterculture that makes Sarah Palin's base look rational. And for the ever-changing lineup of American beers on tap that you might not get anywhere else.

But if you're really there for the title header, I've got good news:

You don't really need a Golden Ticket

If you don't know why you ostensibly need the Golden Ticket, I'm not sure why you're reading this — but welcome.

Golden Tickets are sold ahead of the event for people to redeem to buy up to six or so Dark Lord bottles. They're that popular.

But in fact, the moral of this story is that if missing the small window of Golden Ticket sales is your only excuse for not going, find a better one.

For example, one beer commie hippie carrying some beer version of a ticket scalper sign made it his mission to redistribute the wealth. By noon, he had succeeded in procuring seven or eight golden tickets at cost or for free. He said he was going to give them to people that didn't get any. In beervana, I like to believe that could be true.

I myself had planned to buy my bottle off my friend Tamre, founder of Girls Pint Out, who ALWAYS buys her Golden Ticket in the tiny little parcel of time they sell them after the impromptu Twitter announcement. But this year, I didn't have to buy my bottles from her. After several hours of standing in the line to buy beer — actually, an accidental occurrence — I asked the dude next to me if he'd let me use his second ticket to get into the warehouse where they were selling. He did. I got in. And bought as many as my little heart desired. Which was two.

I hope this admission doesn't make the the process more stringent next year, but I doubt it will. Handling that many people and their paper indulgences will never be that precise. Yes, Golden Ticket sales go to charity — but late people like me usually miss them anyway.