The land is bleakest in the depths of midwinter. When the night is long & enduring – with banshee winds wailing, storms shaking the window – it is a time to batten down the hatches. A lost word evoking the warmth & intimacy of an enveloping woolspun blanket, in front of a cottage fireside, Lómhar – sounds like ‘lover’ – is perhaps what hygge is to the Danes. We have conjured the mood of Lómhar in this soulful spirt: our assemblage composed for hibernation; a winter hymn of hope & renewal; a dark & spicy cuvée to warm the bones in the icy twilight.