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Slow Burn Provisions
The Kitchen Letter
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A letter from Andrés
Dear friends,
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I'm writing this from the bench by the window, so forgive the smell of chiles on the paper. This summer's batch of Ghost & Guava fermented three weeks longer than I planned. The weather stayed cool right through July, the cultures took their time, and I decided not to rush them. It's better for the wait — rounder, less sharp on the finish. Slower, honestly, than I meant it to be.
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That patience came at a cost, and I owe some of you an apology. The extra three weeks pushed our restock two weeks past the date I promised. If you've been checking the shop and finding it empty — I'm sorry. I'd rather send you something I'm proud of late than something I'm unsure of on time, but I know that doesn't refill your cupboard any faster. Thank you for waiting.
While the ferment was going, we finished a change I've wanted to make for a long time. Every chile in this batch now comes from a single family farm in the Sierra Norte. I used to buy from three or four growers depending on the week, and the flavor wandered because of it. Working with one grower means I know the soil, the harvest window, the hands that pick them — and the sauce finally tastes the same jar to jar. It costs a little more. It's worth every peso.
As for what's next: I'm testing a milder everyday sauce for January — something you can pour on eggs without thinking about it. It's still rough, and I'm not promising a date. But it's on the bench, and it's coming.
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The fermentation room in early August — twelve weeks in, and these ones stayed for fifteen.
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Thank you for reading this far, and for keeping a small kitchen in business.
Andrés
Slow Burn Provisions — Oaxaca
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How we make it
Twelve weeks of ferment, no shortcuts.
Every jar is small-batch, single-farm, and given the time it asks for. If you're curious about the process, the whole story lives on our site.
Read the whole story →
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