Our story
It started as a happy accident.
Nobody plans to become insufferable about peanut butter. It happens to you, one perfect pinch of pink salt at a time.
2023
The accident
A late-night batch of homemade peanut butter gets finished with the only salt left in the cupboard — a gift box of Himalayan pink salt. It shouldn't have mattered. It mattered enormously.
2024
The farmers market
Forty jars, one folding table, a hand-painted sign. Sold out in ninety minutes. The next week, eighty jars. Same result. A pattern emerges.
2025
The roastery
We move into a real space, buy granite stone mills, and start roasting 48-hour batches. Every jar gets a batch number and the name of the person who sealed it.
2026
The jar in your hands
Three flavors, one obsession, still absurdly small batches. We ship nationwide now — but every jar is still made exactly like the accidental one.
What we won't budge on.
01
Two ingredients, always
If a flavor needs a stabilizer, an oil, or a syrup to work, it doesn't ship. Constraint is the recipe.
02
Slow is the point
48-hour roasts and stone mills are objectively terrible business decisions. They are also why it tastes like this.
03
Glass, not plastic
Recyclable jars, paper tape, zero plastic fill. The planet eats too.
Ready to ruin every other peanut butter for yourself?
Small batches sell out. The batch calendar doesn't care about your feelings — but the waitlist does.