FROSTBITE

The kind of cold that stops being cold and starts being a feeling in your teeth. But also... captivating, a touch spicy and leaving you dangerously wanting more. Wind coming off the ridge sideways, hands past the point of any use, and a long way still to walk. Somewhere behind you there's a woodstove going. You're not there yet. Black Tie — Cracked white peppercorn, dry amber, crisp cypress. Thin, sharp, and unforgiving. Barn — Spruce needles, cinnamon bark, smoked clove, Texas cedarwood. Everything on the other side of the door.