China has long produced beer, notably the Tsingtao brand launched by Europeans decades ago.

Now, no matter your elevation above sea level, you can taste a beverage brewed in Tibet - dubbed the “Roof of the World.”

Lhasa Beer has arrived in the United States.

In the United States, among some people, it is easy to think of Tibet as only a place where Buddhist monks quietly reflect on calming the mind and reaching different states of being content.

That is true.

But more than 2 million people live on the “Roof of the World” or “shi jie wu ji” in Chinese.

And savvy is savvy no matter how close you are to the sky.

Wrapped in eye-popping yellow labels, the beer is brewed at a commercial factory 11,975 feet above sea level, according to the company.

How high is that?

If you live in the Seattle area, Mount Rainier stands at 14,410 feet above sea level.

So, scale up to 80 percent of Mount Rainier’s height, gather enough money and material to open a commercial brewery and begin making brew.

Certainly, there are local customers in the Lhasa area.

But, thinking big? Like the world?

Then, haul it all the way down the mountain (rail or truck likely would be the most economic method), load it on ships that ply the oceans and sell it in other countries.

I spotted Lhasa Beer at the Asian Food Center, which is located in a suburb of Seattle.

What caught my eye was the name – in addition to the colors, especially the yellow which can pop out in a more dramatic fashion compared to some of the blues and greens that I see with other beer packaging.

The word, “Tibet,” which is on a beer neck label also can make people look.

The beer uses Himalyan spring water and Tibetan barley, among other ingredients, according to the company’s Web site.

The company explains:

The native Tibetan barley, unlike most barley varieties in the world, has no hull. Thus it adds to the beer’s body and gives it an extra dimension of flavor while eliminating some of the undesirable astringency that can come from the grain hulls.

But it does look like Tibetan barley poses some challenges in making the beverage because, as I understand, you typically need hulls. The company uses “just the right amount” to make the beer.

The company talks about the marriage of “Good Beer” and “Good Karma,” saying that 10 percent of the profits go to supporting Tibet and its people.

Another interesting note is that Lhasa Beer is part of a joint venture and has received support from The Carlsberg Group. 

Now, the question is: Did I buy a six-pack of 12-ounce bottles?

It was on sale for $5.29, down from the normal price of $8.99.

My answer: No.

I more captivated by the packaging, colors used on the boxes and labels and the background of Lhasa Beer.

Like I said: Savvy is savvy.

Lhasa Beer has its own Facebook page for its followers and you can see what others are saying about the beer through a quick online search.

What amazes me, from a business perspective, is that the beer I saw near Seattle traveled approximately 10,000 miles to reach market.

That does tell you something about global markets, in addition to thinking that the beer descended about 11,000 feet from the brewery to the Seattle area, which has places only about 500 feet above sea.

To top it off, managers at the Asian Food Center were willing to sell it for only about $5 per six pack.

The price, given the brewery’s distance from the United States, shouldn’t be a complete surprise.

Target has an area in which items, including toys often made in China, sell for about $1.

But the economics of Lhasa Beer still have me scratching my head.

Oh, well. The next time I want to buy some beer, I think I’ll know which brand I’ll try.

By the way, if you have tried Lhasa Beer, please feel free to leave a comment on its taste.

Before I forget, here’s how the China Daily covered Lhasa Beer landing in the United States. Here’s the dispatch from The Associated Press.