Karl Strauss is a sacred name within San Diego beer circles. From 1989 to his passing in 2006, the German brew master concocted dozens of award-winning, well-flavored microbrews that have fueled success for a string of namesake “brewpubs” owned by biz partners Matt Rattner and Chris Cramer.

There are currently six Karl Strauss restaurants in Southern California, four of them located in San Diego County. The original Downtown location on Columbia Street opened nearly two decades ago, breaking a 50-year dry spell in local brewing.

Expansion occurred grandly a couple years later with the arrival of Karl Strauss “gardens” in Sorrento Valley – a gorgeous oasis set within a jungle of corporate structures, adorned with Japanese-style topiary, a koi pond, blooming lily pads, a mini footbridge and outdoor decks. Pretty, yes. But oftentimes so clamorous that you can’t even hear yourself swallow the ale, thus the low rating I’ve given it for atmosphere.

Arriving midweek about 7 p.m., two companions and I wiggled our way to the front hostess desk to be handed the inevitable vibrating beeper. Our wait time for a table was about 15 minutes. The scene was typically chaotic, fueled mostly by large, charged-up gaggles of 30-something guys seemingly celebrating their second puberty after being cooped up in nearby offices all day. The head-splitting racket was augmented by a sports game blaring from a flat screen TV; the milieu turning more obnoxious than festive, especially by the time hump day rolls around each week.

Seated along a row of interior windows that separated us from the tranquility of the koi pond, we employed our loudest voices to converse and place orders. After sunset, we busted our eyeballs to read the dessert menu under recessed lighting so dim, that we needed to flip open our cell phones to shine light onto the print.

Our waitress was swift, albeit frenzied, delivering our beers quickly as though she knew that the sooner customers booze up, the more likely they’ll tolerate the unrelenting noise level.

From a choice of 10 brews on tap, the Windansea wheat hefeweizen is a must, a creamy Bavarian-style beer that surprises the palate with heavy notes of banana and vanilla. The traditional lemon wedge is omitted here because it jangles the sweet finish. Lighter and spicier is Woodie Gold, smoother and less sulfury compared to some of the alpha pilsners I’ve slugged down in Germany. Strauss beers indeed deliver a feisty kick, with some soaring beyond 6 percent in alcohol.

The food menu is mildly interesting once you overlook the standard wings, burgers, quesadillas and seared ahi. The offerings are the same at all Karl Strauss locations, and most dishes incorporate beer into their recipes, although we had a tough time detecting even the slightest hint of malt, hops or alcohol in anything we ate.

Ale-marinated portobello “fries” were as good and meaty as chicken-fried steak. They’re cut into finger-length sticks, battered and served with pesto and chili aioli for dipping. Another starter, firecracker sirloin strips, were tender despite their curly, tough appearance. The strips are served over a bed of cabbage and flavored with a basic soy-ginger-sesame glaze. Their “firecracker” spiciness comes in the form of a decorative dollop of generic Asian chili sauce on the plate. If you’ve had Kemo Sabe’s “skirts on fire,” this rendition will leave you craving more heat.

One of my companions opted for the ubiquitous “Caesar wedge” salad laced with anchovy-rich dressing that ran a little short. Heartier salads include mixed greens crowned with honey-lager chicken, crunchy BBQ chicken and carne asada.

From three different entrees we shared, my favorite was lemon “hef” chicken breast, even though the aforementioned hefeweizen supposedly lacing the lemon sauce didn’t register on our tongues. Instead, the essence of fresh citrus and garlic corresponded well to the charry finish on the chicken while giving a voice also to artichoke hearts and capers.

In the case of drunken shrimp made with the Woodie Gold pilsner, the crustaceans arrived completely sober, the beer yielding entirely to a safely spiced tomato cream sauce dotted with garlic and indistinguishable herbs. Though satisfying, the dish’s strongpoint was the quantity of shrimp we got, about 11 to the order.

All of our entrees came with garlic mashed potatoes (yawn), including “beer-brasied” pot roast dominated by a sweet, thin barbecue sauce that awkwardly snuffed out the flavor of the beef, as well as the huge amount of accompanying carrots. The dish struck me as a better fit for a Texas hoe-down awash in Corona rather than for a brewery that takes its beer-making and food pairings so seriously.

After a final point-and-shout session with our waitress, we ended up with a dish of good blueberry-apple cobbler, concluding that the Karl Strauss concept isn’t any less pedestrian or noisy than a Cheesecake Factory or Claim Jumper or Hooter’s for that matter. The only difference is that it serves better beer.