Free shipping for subtotals over $24
Oðin's Treasures, Smoke-Bound Ember: I know the pepper cured in smoke, Where fire and darkened fruit awoke. Its heat rolls deep with steady weight, While roasted sweetness rounds its fate. No sudden strike, no fleeting glow, But embers built to linger slow. From ripened red to ashen air, A smoky strength is resting there.
