The Slayer, as you well know, has the ability to sniff out any brewpub within a hundred mile radius of his locale. This unique talent has served him well in he is on safari in unfamiliar territory. No matter how foreign the place may seem to him, he always feels at home when perched atop a bar stool. Beer is a universal language and The Slayer speaks it fluently.

One of the great perks of being The Slayer is that no matter which brewpub his bottom may rest, pints of free beer are soon to become his. He never has to ask or beg, although he has been known to utter a well placed hint now and again. As if it were liquid manna, brew of the least costly variety appears. He knows not from where, but has the decency and ambivalence not to ask.

The experience of entering a brewpub and supping of free beer has become so common place that The Slayer thinks it rather blaze' at times. To him, this experience is as routine as guilt is to a child raised in a solid Catholic household (I see a red door and thought I'd paint it black--the Catholic matriarch credo). It takes an exceptional brewpub to peek his interest enough to chronicle it in this column.

As it so happens The Slayer recently had such an experience (what are the odds?). He discovered this unique brewpub in Indiana, of all places. A born and raised Michigander, The Slayer is much more familiar with this state that is merely one large corn field separating Ohio and Illinois, both of which are also just large cereal producing fields, than he likes. As far as The Slayer knows there are only three great things to come out of Indiana in the last 100 years. They are: Larry Bird; David Letterman and New Frontier beer, one of the first organic beers produced in this country.

Yet, amidst this wasteland of tractors, combines and harrows, The Slayer discovered one of the most interesting drinking establishments in the country. It's locale is as uncommon as the tavern itself. You won't find it in America's largest city not to be located on a waterway, Indianapolis, or among the gray Rust-belt factories of Gary. In order to partake of the ambiance of the Road Apple Brewhaus, you will have to go to Grabel, Indiana.

This little berg in the Northeast corner of Indiana, just outside of Fort Wayne, is in the heart of Indiana's Amish country. These gray suited buggy drivers are so prevalent that the Dairy Queen and many other local businesses have hitching posts in their parking lots to accommodate the Amish customer's horses.

In keeping with Grabel's steel-wheeled theme (rubber tires being to modern for the Amish) The Road Apple's Amish owner, Erhardt Schmidt, named the brewpub after the nickname the locals have given to the horse manure lying in the streets of the town. The name is just a foreshadowing of the influence this sect of nostalgic agrarians has on the establishment.

The first thing that caught The Slayer's eye as he came upon the brewpub were the hitching posts and the structure that housed this haven of fine beers. The Road Apple Brewhaus is an old Amish barn. Mr. Schmidt bought the building in nearby Van Wert, Ohio and had each board, rafter and wooden peg (no metal nails for the Amish) numbered and disassembled. Then he had the whole thing reassembled in Grabel. In the grand Amish barn raising tradition, the whole process took two days, one to take the barn apart the other to put it back together.

As The Slayer entered the brewpub through a door modified for human use only, he was immediately struck by its Spartan interior. Virtually the only decoration were German steins and krugs placed atop the buildings crossbeams. Along the walls and behind the conspicuously mirrorless (the Amish believe mirrors produce graven images), enormous oaken bar hung actual gas lamps. The pub's austere decor was completely offset by the charm of being in a barn with no electrical outlets.

The actual brewery was one of the most unique The Slayer had ever seen. It is an used twenty barrel system that Mr. Schmidt modified so the brewing water could be heated via an open propane flame rather than electricity.

The brewing operation not only serves in the making of fine craft beers, it also plays a major role in the brewpub's climate control. The water used to brew the beer is taken from a well next to the barn. The agua is pumped up to the very top of the building by wind and pony power. A windmill atop the pump house is the main source of power. During the summer, Erhardt hitches ponies to a large wooden wheel that is connected to the pump; thus augmenting its power. Because his brewery has become somewhat of a tourist attraction, he allows the children who visit with their families free pony rides. This keeps the kids amused while mom and dad sample the wares from his brewery.

The water comes into the barn at its peak. Hanging beneath the water pipe are a series a enormous fans. They are driven by a current of cold air, generated by the 52 degree water, as it forces its way down. This keeps the barn a comfortable 74 degrees during the summer.

During the Winter, the vents on the side of the enclosed brewing area are opened to allow the heat from the boiling water to permeate the building and keep it comfortable for patrons. In the Summer, these vents are closed and the heat leaves the brewpub via a steam-stack, if you will. Since the brewing operation is in the middle of the building, this is an efficient way to heat it.

Aesthetics, ingenuity and creativity are fine, but The Slayer will always judge a brewpub by the product. The Road Apple Brewhuas had three beers on tap when he paid it a visit. They are kept in underground holding tanks and served via the traditional hand pump method; no refrigeration or carbon dioxide needed. The beers he tasted were: Plough Sheer Porter; Horsedrawn Hefeweiss and Angus Alt.

The opaque, black Plough Sheer Porter had a lovely tan head and roasty aroma. When The Slayer tasted it, he was amazed by it's perfect chocolate malt, roasted barley balance. This was definitely a grand Porter.

The expectedly cloudy Horsedrawn Hefeweiss had the usual voluminous head and a somewhat musty odor. Undeterred by the brew's nose, The Slayer tasted of it anyway. Apples, peaches and lemon flavors permeated this most impressive example of the ultimate Summertime beer. The Slayer was so enamored with Horsedrawn Hefeweiss that he actually bought a krug to take home.

The straw colored Angus Alt had an adequate head and malty aroma. This example of the aged German ale was expectedly clean and crisp with a wonderfully herbal hop finish. Erhardt Schmidt certainly knows how to brew.

If you ever find yourself in Northeastern Indiana, God forbid, make sure you stop at the Road Apple Brewhaus. The atmosphere and the beer are well worth the trip to Amish country. Remember, no pictures allowed (that graven image thing again).