Our History

Back in my university days, I lived in a quiet suburb of Queens, New York—nothing fancy, but full of life. The neighborhood was mostly Caribbean families, and the streets always had something going on. Music, backyard barbecues, kids running around, old uncles playing dominoes on the sidewalk. And always—always—the smell of spices in the air. It was the kind of place where food brought people together.

It was there that I first came across something I’d never forget: Caribbean pepper sauce.

Every household had their own version. Thick, bright, fiery stuff—each batch a little different, depending on who made it. Over time, I started trying them all, mostly during weekend cookouts. It became kind of an obsession—finding that one sauce that just hit different.

That’s when I met Grandma Julian.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew her. She had this quiet confidence about her, like someone who didn’t need to say much because her food already said it all. Her pepper sauce wasn’t just good—it was something else. It had heat, sure, but also this deep, tangy flavor that stuck with you. It didn’t punch you in the face—it stayed with you.

I must’ve raved about it one too many times, because one day she waved me over and said,

“Come by on Sunday. I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

And so I did. I spent the whole day in her kitchen—watching, asking, scribbling notes while she moved by instinct. No measurements, just memory. She told me it was her grandmother’s recipe, carried over from the islands. She let me taste, stir, chop, and learn. No frills, no shortcuts. Just the real thing.

When I moved back to India, I kept making the sauce for myself. Didn’t share it much at first—wasn’t sure how people would take to it. But once I did, the response was immediate. My friends and family loved it. We started putting it on everything: eggs, dal-chawal, momos, fried rice, samosas, even plain toast. That tangy fire just woke everything up.

And that’s when it hit me -

Every drop tells a story.

This sauce was born in a kitchen in Queens, where Caribbean flavors met generations of tradition. Taught to me by Grandma Julian—no frills, just instinct—this pepper sauce brings serious heat, deep tang, and soul in every spoon. I brought it home to India, and it just clicked.

Now I’m passing it on.

No marketing fluff. Just fire, flavor, and family