Postcards From the Weekend: When in Omaha

"I take a sip, then another. By the fifth one my cheeks start to warm. Halfway through the glass I can finally take my jacket off. There’s still a chill that blows into the brewery with the arrival of each new beer drinker looking to escape the cold, but there’s an entire section of big barrel-aged beers on the menu, so I think I’ll be fine."