Muria started at a kitchen table in Miami — a pot of bell peppers and chili that never really came off the stove. It was the thing guests asked for. The thing we couldn't stop spooning. We bottled it because we had to.

Every jar is small-batch, made with real peppers, vinegar, chia, and time. No shortcuts. No seed oils. No fillers you can't pronounce. The better-for-you part is just what happens when you cook like a grandmother instead of a factory.

We believe in the long table. In leftovers. In a jar that earns a place on your counter, not the back of the fridge. Pepper No. 1 is the start. No. 2 and No. 3 are already simmering.