One of the things I adore about Cincinnati is its unapologetic quirkiness.

Chili on spaghetti? Nobody blinks an eye.

Home to the world's largest chicken dance? No problem.

And the fact that the Cincinnati airport is in an entirely separate state? But of course.

So when I hear that there's an unusual festival coming up - a celebration of beer, sausages and goats - I'm not too surprised. This is, after all, one atypical place.

The 12th annual Bockfest, Feb. 27-28, is an extravaganza to honor Cincinnati's brewery heritage. But it also the only time Main Street is filled with bagpipers, people dressed as wenches and monks, and real goats. Plus, there's a wooden Trojan goat, filled with beer instead of Greek soldiers.

And then there's the blessing of the beer.

Let me repeat: The. Blessing. Of. The. Beer.

Like, a pastor not only validates, but exalts, my drink. This could be the greatest thing since sliced communion wafers.

For generations, breweries here have created dark, rich, alcoholic concoctions of bock beer. But the tradition started long ago when monks in Einbock, Germany, produced the thick, heavy beverage to tide them over through Lenten fasting.

(Getting bock to basics: The town's name was often mispronounced as "Ein'bock," meaning "one goat." So there's actually a legitimate reason for the locals to be mingling with farm animals during this parade.)

Bock beer is generally introduced toward the beginning of Lent to celebrate the promise of the upcoming spring. And, let's say you happen to be fasting for Lent like those Germans. One glass of bock will sustain you with about as many calories as a pot roast - and enough alcohol to make you not care about the deprivation.

But the suds aren't just for monks anymore. Bock beer has become part of our heritage, as much as Jerry Springer and pig statues as far as the eye can see. And it deserves celebrating because it's a chance to take pride in a tradition as rich as our beer.

"This isn't just about partying and drinking until we're sick," said Michel Keidel, 45, of Mount Lookout, who helped launch the first Bockfest. "It's about remembering our roots."

It includes tours of Cincinnati's abandoned subway system, lectures on beer and local brewery history, and sausage-making demonstrations. There's a full schedule at www.barrelhouse.com.

Bockfest could have been just another beer festival. Instead, it's a labor of love for the promoters. There's little advertising about the event - the news is mostly spread by word of mouth. Nobody makes money off the effort.

Still, 500-600 people participate in the parade each year. They are people who love quality. Individuals who support local businesses. Homebrewers who delight in a good pint. Crowds who know that Cincinnati is much more than riots and intolerance.

That includes a decent amount of young professionals who boast refined tastes.

"Instead of people going out, getting a 12-pack of beer and getting stupid, they're getting smart and ordering two good beers instead," said Michael Cromer, owner of BarrelHouse Brewing Co. "They're looking for excellence.

"They're looking for something from Cincinnati."

E-mail mdowns@enquirer.com