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Wilhelm, our great-great-grandfather, crossed from Norway with his wife and three sons, chasing the simple promise that hard work could turn one life into another. Five more sons followed, eight in all. He set up at 273 Court Street, Brooklyn, first making gloves by hand, then turning the same shop into a music studio where every boy was taught to play.
That's what aging in oak does, too. Coffee enters the cask as one thing, sits with the wood and the ghost of bourbon for ninety nights, and comes out as something the beans could never have imagined for themselves.
That's how much cold brew has run through batches under my operation — overseen personally, batch by batch. It's the experience behind every bottle of Wilhelm: small-batch, barrel-aged, and never rushed.
Bourbon-barrel-aged cold brew. No alcohol. Best served neat, over a single large cube.




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