A brief moment for something approaching, like, Actual Human Feelings or something.
Three years ago — February, 2013 — Fetish Brewing Company held its first CSA pick-up. We had 12 members, we gave out three twelve ounce bottles of beer (two Spelt and one Ghost Pepper), the labels were stuck on with sugar and milk and optimism, no-one paid a dime for their beer, and 0.0% of our wives understood what it was we were up to.
And, tbf, neither did we.
We spent that first bitter winter (and another six or so bitter months) brewing outside in a driveway in Millersville, getting to know each other and huddling around the kettle burners, warning Aaron not to brew sorghum beers or pumpkin beers or we’d quit, making fun of Aaron’s lunatic little dog, and putting this weird little company and it’s weird little business plan together.
The plan from the beginning being: to brew small batches of thoughtfully constructed beer, to develop sustainable partnerships with local growers and ingredient suppliers, and to partner with the bars and restaurants in Lancaster who support our mission.
And to keep it super-sexy.
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