About Uncle Andy's

People always ask, 'How did you start making hot sauce?' Honestly, it started as a shot in the dark—and it nearly ruined the kitchen and my sanity before I got it right.

Back in 2020, when the world flipped upside down and 'normal' got tossed out the window, I found myself trapped at home trying to juggle virtual meetings, a constant game of Wi-Fi roulette between the kid's school Zoom and our many devices, and too much time getting caught up in the 24-hr. news cycle. I needed a positive release —and fast!

One morning I looked out into the backyard, and for the first time ever, really took notice of the sad, empty garden boxes the previous homeowner had built. ‘Why not?’ I thought. I’ve always loved fresh produce, peppers being top of the list. Two habanero plants, three bell peppers, sweet peas, cucumber and tomatoes soon filled the boxes. It felt like a little rebellion against the chaos and a welcomed change. Turns out, I’m a halfway decent gardener. By the end of the summer, I had more peppers than I could ever eat—over 120 fiery orange habaneros overwhelmed me in a matter of a few months. That’s when the hot sauce idea hit me. I thought, ‘How hard can it be?’ Ignorance is bliss has never rung more true.

(The original garden box in my backyard, 2020)

The first batch? It smelled like regret and tasted worse. The second? Slightly better but still awful. By the third, my kitchen looked like a crime scene. It took months and, in all, six full attempts—tweaking, tasting, burning my tongue (and eyes) repeatedly—before I finally hit gold. That batch? Sweet, tangy, just enough heat. That’s the Sweet Habanero you know today. For the next three and a half years, my kitchen became a mini hot sauce lab. I’d make a batch when I was running low, keep a bottle for myself, and give the rest away to anyone willing to try it. All I ever asked for was honest feedback. And they gave it—sometimes brutally. But I listened. And I kept improving.

2024 was the year everything took off. People started coming back in droves—not just for a bottle, but for two or three. Family, friends, even friends of friends couldn’t get enough. It was obvious: I’d stumbled onto something worth sharing. So, I posted on Facebook, asking for small donations to cover costs with each bottle. The response? Absolutely incredible. Now, Uncle Andy’s Sweet Habanero isn’t just a kitchen experiment. In just two months of actively promoting, we’ve sold hundreds of bottles and partnered with Don Tequila restaurants, where Uncle Andy’s Sweet Habanero is now the go-to hot sauce on every table.

It’s more than just a sauce—it’s become a community of flavor lovers who can’t get enough of that perfect kick. To everyone who’s tried it, shared it, or told a friend: thank you for being part of this journey! Looking back, it’s amazing how far we’ve come—and trust me, we’re just getting started. Big things are on the horizon for Uncle Andy’s!

(Uncle Andy picking habaneros)