Heat that knows how to sit by the fire.

January 2019

Original

The first recipe that stuck.

It started at dawn with a handful of chocolate habaneros and a dash of creativity. Not a brand. Not a label. Not Camp Master G. Just early light and peppers dark enough to look like trouble.

Chocolate habanero first: brown, wrinkled, cocoa and earth before it’s fruit. Bourbon and brown sugar to give the heat a chair. Lime so the dark didn’t go muddy. Cinnamon because why not.

That batch became Original because it refused to be a one-off. The next batch made it a problem. Everything after this bottle is people and the mess the people made.

Camp Master G showed up later. Original was already on the table.

September 2019

Hot Blonde

Named first. Claimed later.

That next batch almost went through life as Tropical Heat. That name deserved to die, and it did, the minute the boss man Scott tasted it and said this is Hot Blonde. He knows wifey Lynn is a redhead (A.K.A. Red Roxy). He said it anyway.

White habanero, not the chocolate ones from Original. Pale fire. Pineapple is the body of the pot — sweet, tart, a little mean when the heat rides with it. Honey and light brown sugar. Bourbon. Same family. Different bottle. Garlic enough to keep it honest. Cardamom at the end, clean and floral.

The bottle had that name for six years. It did not have a face. Camp Master G had no good explanation for Lynn why Hot Blonde was in the house.

Then the problem statement hit the table: who is this Hot Blonde? The solution was Kristi — sister-in-law, her alter ego finally claimed. That’s when the story started to make sense. Thanks Boss.

October 2019

Red Roxy

Lynn’s bottle. On purpose.

Before that claim, Camp Master G still needed a plan for the trouble the boss man created: curate and dedicate a new recipe to Lynn. He named it Red Roxy.

Mango first — ripe, round, a little sunset. Habanero riding inside the fruit instead of on top of it. Bourbon and brown sugar. Rosemary, pine and backyard. Clove at the back. Lush. Heat with a point of view.

True to herself. She knew Hot Blonde was a friend. She let the blonde stay — in glass.

September 2021

Out of production. For now.

Alter Ego

So he mixed them. Hot Blonde and Red Roxy in one jar. Same room. No referee. Camp Master G left the batches alone like they might work it out. Mango walked in. Pineapple was already there. Nobody left. Sweet meeting sweet and neither one backing down.

At the time, the woman behind Hot Blonde was still unnamed. Sister-in-law. Kristi. Roxy didn’t know either. So whatever he thought he was doing, it wasn’t a reunion. It was a setup he couldn’t see.

Two sauces under the same roof. One lady who had let the blonde stay — in glass. A man with a habit of bottling trouble and calling it a plan. Alter Ego is what happens when that plan works too well.

February 2022

Persimmons

Dennis gave him the persimmons. Good friend. Camp Master G bottled what he was handed. Fall fruit. How was he supposed to foresee witches.

After Alter Ego he needed a story that fit the pot. White witches sell harvest better than black ones. He didn’t cast them. Roxy and Hot Blonde stepped into the bodies and took credit for the conjuring. Redhead with the flaming wand. Blonde with the spell book.

Roasted persimmon. Habanero. Mezcal instead of bourbon. Maple so the fruit doesn’t turn.

The dark witches are still in the room. They’re just not on the label.

August 2022

Flaming Pear

Then the pair changed clothes.

Pears. Pepper heat. A batch that made sense on paper. Pear first — floral, grainy-sweet, orchard. Heat that arrives late. Fruit plus fire. Logical. Until Roxy and the Blonde flipped the script into a double entendre.

Not a typo. A flaming pair who showed up together with the fire already lit, wearing a name that was already theirs.

A pair. A pear. Both on purpose.

August 2022

Out of production. For now.

Wussy Sauce

Thank goodness Flaming Pear was too hot for Chris. Camp Master G had a way out of self-inflicted trouble. He needed a taster with a sense of humor and no interest in making a case. Chris qualified.

Same Flaming Pear flavor. Half the heat. He called it Wussy Sauce. Chris didn’t mind.

CMG was in the clear. For now.

Chucktowne Heat

Peppers. Vinegar. Garlic. Onion. Salt.

Camp Master G’s traditional hot sauce on purpose. Pepper-forward. Fermented. Savory from garlic and onion. White vinegar up front. Apple cider under it. No bourbon. No mezcal. No fruit juice. Witches, weapons, double entendres — all have a place in the storyline. Not invited to this party.

Charleston saying its own name. Camp Master G and Red Roxy in the Holy City. Local. Proud. A little swagger. It only made sense.

Stay out of trouble. Put it on food.

September 2024

Dike Rider Dan

Dan rides more than most. His line is worn in. The dikes of Lake Moultrie tell the story. East dike. Gravel that doesn’t quit. He said jalapeño, and that should have been the whole meeting.

Jalapeño. Vinegar. Garlic. Onion. Salt. Lime. A touch of fresh pineapple. Bright. Weekday heat.

Roxy and Camp Master G went heavy on the libations the night they christened it. The sass is the name: Dike Rider Dan. He earned it. He rides.

Troubles behind him. Jalapeño out front.