Homebrewers Rejoice!

As someone who has dabbled in brewing my own libations in the past, I was overjoyed to hear that there was a local source for homebrewing (and winemaking) supplies coming to the Cville area. The Fermentation Trap opened recently up on 29 North (just past the Greene County line) and had a Grand Opening day on Saturday in observance of National Homebrewing Day, so EvoMan and I jumped on our two-wheeled conveyances and cruised over to check them out. Owned and operated by a couple of Greene County locals who are back in the area thanks to NGIC, the Trap is a great place for folks experienced in homebrewing and those looking to get started.
They carry several different kits for beer or wine, lots of literature on both, including recipe books on how to create copies of your favorite Macrobrews. If you don’t want to dive in with both feet right away, they also have no-cook beer and hard cider kits that require only a fementation vessel, yeast and water to get started. Each kit yields 2.5 cases of 12oz bottles after approximately 3 weeks of fermentation, and they currently have kits for a variety of styles, from Irish Stout to American Lager.
Homebrewing is a great way to learn more about beer, experiment with flavors, and become active in a community. There are two brew clubs in Charlottesville, so there’s an established group of folks to learn from (and believe me, brewers LOVE to talk about beer) and swap recipes and tips with. The Fermentation Trap is a great place to start if you want to get rolling down the road to fresh, homemade beer and wine, and the owners will be happy to bend your ear, listen to your concerns and answer your questions.
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I am sitting on my back porch this fine Wednesday evening with a tall glass of scotch and a beautiful cigar, a Punch Gran Puro. The Punch Gran Puro is made with 100% Honduran grown tobaccos. As I am smoking this great cigar and afterwards taking a big slug of scotch, I am imagining the process of how this glorious cigar came to be in my possession. Some little Honduran boy probably picked the tobacco and then some beautiful Honduran woman (naked perhaps) rolled it into a cigar, which was then shipped across the ocean and ended up in a little shop in Charlottesville, VA known as “
Ahhh, prom season. Just the word probably causes all of us to simultaneously sigh or shudder, or if you a had prom night like mine, think of siphoning gas into the world’s most charmingly junked out Jeep Grand Wagoneer and wishing that you had opted against pantyhose. We swayed to embarrassing rituals, a certain sense of an oppressive right of passage, and the bittersweet pictures posed in front of a charred fireplace while looking very much like a caricature of the adults we hoped to become, all in the vain hope of the true reason for the night: after-prom. While prom might bring flowers and rentals of all kinds to my mind, after-prom conjure up Tori Spelling getting drunk in a red hoop skirt dress on prom night in Beverly Hills, every single after-school special on sex ed, and my friend M who said that she and her friends had something of a de-flowering party in a hotel resplendent with a heart-shaped tub and silky sheets. For Charlottesville schools, the kids have a much better, and might I say, classier option, and we have a chance to do some of-age boozing to support it. 
