error.
Still learning.
It started small. Just jalapeños and habaneros — two varieties, a patch of ground, and no idea what I was getting into. That first season taught me enough to want more. So I pushed. More varieties, more plants, more ambition. By 2026 I was growing 14 varieties across twelve acres in Bridgeton, New Jersey.
None of it came easy. Plants died. Pests invaded. Diseases spread through rows I'd spent weeks building up. There were nights I was out there at 10pm with a flashlight picking bugs off leaves by hand because I wasn't willing to lose what I'd put into it. I treated every plant like it mattered — because it did. You don't pour that much of yourself into something and walk away when it gets hard.
Then came the harvest. And then the sauce. The process was tedious and humbling and I made plenty of mistakes. First batch came out right. Second batch I overcomplicated it and lost what made the first one work. Third batch I came back to basics, tightened everything up, and landed on something I was finally proud of. That's what's in this bottle.
I'm still learning. Every batch teaches me something. But the commitment hasn't changed from day one — grow it right, make it right, and never put something in a bottle I wouldn't be proud to hand to someone face to face.