We are a group of stupidly lucky individuals that get to wake up and make beer every morning. We are proud of the products that we make, and obsess about improving them. We respect brewing traditions and know-how, and look to use that knowledge to create rule breaking innovative products. We have bosses, employees and co-workers that often believe in us more than we believe in ourselves. We hate how “made in China ” this world has become, and feel proud of being part of the return to local, soulful crafted products. We bring intention and love to our craft and hope that is experienced in the sip. We feel that life is about learning, and learning is about humility to the potential of it all. We believe that having a beer is a culinary, social and cultural experience. We laugh at brewers that have secret ingredients. We are super into water chemistry. We are nerds. We find it easier to live the world of craft than to tell the story of craft. We are not sure how to use the word authentic without sounding inauthentic. We love homebrewing and homebrewers. Hatch is a place where real food and real beer is made by real people, and served to real people by real people. It all started out in Ephraim’s yard, where he first brewed beer and poured it for his neighbours. Word got out about the backyard brewery and the neighborhood started showing up for the freshest (and only) beer around. That said, you can’t really have a bunch of taps without good food, and so the spark that would eventually hatch Hatch, was lit. Different food and beers every week brought a wide range of people to the backyard. To this day, we try to bring the simple backyard hosting vibes to wherever we go, and it remains a core part of our hospitality ethos. Hatch officially opened in the Mahane Yehuda Market in 2017. It attracted a range of eclectic staff, from avid homebrewers to fresh off the boat lone soldiers.  There we explored the  idea of “ human hospitality”. “Human Hospitality” sounds sexy, but implementation was difficult. We didn’t always know what we were doing, and we didn’t always know how to explain to ourselves why we were doing what we were doing. We made a load of mistakes along the way, and  that’s why people get us and like what we do. Every experience where we fell short  acted as a teacher for us to learn how to be better restaurateurs, brewers, and hosts. Being real people allows us to make greater beer and greater food, each time. That’s why our guests at Hatch like the food and beer, but they also like the people behind the food and beer. For us, Hatch is an opportunity to grow and learn, and has taught me a lot. Every day is a lesson in how an Israeli secular bartender can serve beer and connect to a religious American customer. Two people from different worlds, with different jokes, humour and culture. But we all like beer. There’s nothing better than seeing a guest take a sip and start smiling. There’s a lot of meaning behind drinking something that people have put their hearts into. That meaning fills us up every morning and drives our work. Here is a picture of a common scene at Hatch, one that may look mundane to some, but is unbelievably meaningful to us a brand and as people. You step into the Mahane Yehuda Market in Jerusalem which  might just be the craziest part of the Middle East, after Gaza and the Temple Mount. You walk up to hatch and you see: On the bar outside sits A hassidic couple, two Kibbutznik girls, and a handful of students who are studying for priesthood, wearing prominent crucifixes. Everyone on the bar has a beer, and some of Hatch’s American bar food. While not a particularly strange group of people for Hatch, it never fails to get us. It’s hard to shake the bigger picture of harmony between different cultures, and some sort of world peace ideal, but it’s a bit more simple for us;, because I know that our hard work creates a product that’s accessible to such a wide range of people from such different backgrounds and it is part of a dialogue of commonality and human connection, and that continues to inspire us always. If you made it to the end of this, you deserve a beer.