About Salamander Sauce
Legend says the salamander is born of fire —
not consumed by it, but created through it.
Salamanders don't fear fire — they master it.
How This Started
Almost two decades ago, I was making quick meals after long days and couldn't find a hot sauce that did what I needed. Everything I tried was either thin and sharp or just straight punishment. I wanted sauce that enhanced food.
So I started tinkering in my kitchen. Fresh habaneros for depth, not just burn. Bell peppers and carrots for body and sweetness. Real bourbon because bourbon vanilla and smoke deepen everything. Ginger for bite. Lime juice for brightness.
I kept adjusting until it hit—that moment when your face lights up and you just know it's right.
Then I saw the same look on other people's faces. A chef friend wanted it in his restaurant. His customers asked where to buy it. Word spread the old way—through food, through people who care about what they're eating.
That's how Salamander started. No business plan, no pitch deck. Just people asking for more.
Who Makes It
I spent most of my life working New York restaurants—some high-end places in Manhattan, mostly front-of-house. Describing dishes to guests every night. Talking through flavors and textures. Pairing wines. You learn what makes people light up versus what falls flat when you're watching their faces as they taste.
Spent time in the kitchen too—tasting dishes as chefs created them, offering feedback, understanding how flavors come together before they hit the plate. Enough to know the mechanics. But mostly I learned from the other side: what actually works for the person eating it.
I applied that to hot sauce. The principle I learned from wine pairing—the right element reveals what's already there—became the philosophy. Heat that works with food instead of overpowering it. Sauce that makes the dish better, not just hotter.
Started making sauce in 2009 because I couldn't find what I needed. Almost two decades later, I'm still tasting every batch. Still adjusting. Brooklyn-based from day one, working with a Hudson Valley co-packer who follows the same process I developed in my kitchen.
No culinary school, no secret family recipe. Just years of paying attention—first to guests and chefs, then to what fire does to fresh vegetables.
Fire That Transforms
I chose the name "Salamander" because they're cool creatures—bright orange, can regenerate limbs, and there was some vague connection to fire that felt right. The full story behind the name →
Almost two decades later, I finally dug deep into salamander mythology. Turns out alchemists used them as symbols of transformation—fire that refines instead of destroys, heat that reveals what's hidden inside ingredients instead of burning it away.
That's exactly what I'd been doing with habaneros and fresh vegetables. Same principle the alchemists described, just with a pot instead of a crucible.
Salamanders master fire. Heat that creates, transforms, reveals. Born of fire; defined by flavor.
How I Make It
Brooklyn-based, Hudson Valley-made. I work with a co-packer in New York's Hudson Valley who follows the same process I developed in my kitchen almost twenty years ago.
Fresh vegetables create the body—bell peppers, tomatoes, carrots cooking down into natural thickness. Fresh habaneros and jalapeños for heat with character. Bourbon deepens everything in the Whiskey. Eight tropical fruits create complexity in the Tropical.
Just ingredients you recognize, transformed by fire. What makes a sauce truly artisanal →
What Makes It Different
Vegetables First: Most sauces start with vinegar. We start with bell peppers, carrots, and tomatoes. That creates natural body, not thickeners.
Low Sodium: Fresh vegetables have natural umami. We use 25-50mg of salt because we don't need to compensate for thin flavor.
Real Ingredients: Real bourbon, fresh peppers, actual fruit. No xanthan gum. No liquid smoke. Just physics.
Read the deep dive on our process →
Like salamanders, we master fire. Nearly two decades, same process, same refusal to compromise.
