Omertá, Oh How We Missed You.

A few mornings ago, in the midst of a long and difficult bottling run, Luke walked by me en route to the tool wall. He smelled like an orange orchard and I could see a broken peeler in his hand. It was most definitely the Omertá ‘dry hop’ day. Of course, I write dry hop here in quotations because although we do add (dry) hops, it’s the addition of several … Read More →