Provisions

Showing 10–13 of 13 results

Seven Devils Green — Charred Tomatillo Salsa Verde
The Seven Devils stand over Hells Canyon, and the peaks have names: He-Devil, She-Devil, the Tower of Babel. Nobody named them that as a joke. Fair warning, in other words. Tomatillos, serranos, onion, and ten cloves of garlic go over the fire until the tomatillos blister and start to collapse. They look ruined. They're perfect. Blended rough, seeds in. It comes out sharp and green and innocent-looking — right up until the serranos show up with all that garlic behind them. The hot one. Named honestly. Refrigerated, never canned, made the week you pick it up. Local pickup in the Treasure Valley.
Snake River Ember — All-Purpose BBQ Rub
The Snake does all the work in this state. It runs a thousand miles, waters every farm in the valley, and on its way out it carved the deepest gorge in North America — deeper than the Grand Canyon, and it doesn't advertise. This is the rub that does all the work. Smoked paprika, brown sugar, garlic, onion, black pepper, mustard powder, smoked salt. Ribs, chicken, brisket, pork shoulder — it's built for the meat, not the label. One step matters most: the brown sugar gets dried in a low oven before it's blended. That's why the tin doesn't cake in a month. Most people skip it. We don't. Local pickup in the Treasure Valley.
The Stanley Kettle — Dried Soup Broth Base
Stanley, Idaho posts the coldest temperature in the lower forty-eight more mornings a year than any town in America. Sixty people live there on purpose. That is a town that understands soup. This pouch is for those mornings: our garden vegetables dried down hard, mushrooms, parsley, thyme, garlic, peppercorns, smoked salt, and two bay leaves in every bag. The vegetables come off the same nine beds as everything else here — they just got dried instead of cooked, and nothing goes in that isn't fully brittle. Three tablespoons to a quart of water. Simmer thirty minutes. Strain it or don't. Local pickup in the Treasure Valley.
Treasure Valley Red — Fire-Roasted Salsa
They named this valley for treasure and then filled it with farms, which turned out to be the same thing. This is the valley's jar. Tomatoes, jalapeños, onion, and garlic straight onto the fire until they're blistered and black — then a knife, not a food processor, which is why it's chunky and pourable instead of smooth. Smoked salt, lime, cilantro, a toasted morita underneath for the backbone. Mild to medium. The one that ends up on everything. It's named for the Treasure Valley because it never leaves it — refrigerated, no canning, no preservatives, made the week you pick it up. Local pickup: Nampa, Caldwell, Meridian, Boise.