PORTLAND, Maine — It’s good on eggs, oysters and even moose jerky. Hot sauce, the Mexican-inflected staple derived from chili peppers, is building momentum across the Pine Tree State. First launched in the ’90s by a few outliers, pepper sauces made in kitchens and farms here with diverse ingredients from seaweed to blueberries are a tasty antidote for winter weather.
“I started it to teach the kids about business. I was making it on my own for Christmas gifts,” Dan Stevens recalls of his now popular Captain Mowatt’s, which launched in his Cape Elizabeth home in 1997.
Dropping off a few bottles of his fiery Canceaux sauce at Becky’s Diner in Portland, the blend of red chilies and garlic went viral.
“They said, ‘we need more sauce.’ So we made more,” Stevens said. “Then they called us up again and said, ‘we need more sauce, we need more sauce.’”
At 61, Stevens is having more fun than a former tugboat operator should. His growing Portland-based company is now a mini enterprise.
Spicy flavors such as Blue Flame, made with blueberries and seaweed, to Greenie, which has fresh avocados, cilantro and lime juice, are doused liberally on everything from popcorn to eggs from coast to coast.
“It’s enjoyable coming up with different recipes and names. I eat hot sauce every day. I just created a new one with tart cherries,” Stevens said.
Where Captain Mowatt’s has nearly 30 varieties of sauces, other liquid chili makers stick to one.
In Buxton, Scott Waldron is experiencing a similar surge. The UPS driver started Lost Woods Sauce in 1999 to fulfill a need.
“I could only find Tabasco and Frank’s hot sauce,” he said.
Like Stevens, his hobby ignited fast. Chili peppers, red wine and garlic is his winning combination. Because “ hot sauces have been growing in leaps and bounds” and his proximity to Portland, which he calls “‘the next Seattle,’ with beer and bar scenes and restaurants, all sorts of stores” looking for an edge, business is brisk enough that his wife is closing her day care business to help.
Popular at places such as The Great Lost Bear and The Bayou Kitchen in Portland and serving as a key ingredient on the buffalo chicken pizza at Willows Pizza and Restaurant in South Portland, the killer condiment can propel recipes over the top.
“It’s the top seller,” Willow’s waitress Jennifer Johnson said of the chicken and blue cheese pizza with a Lost Woods Sauce kick. “We get a lot of requests for it.”
In Bangor, Natural Living Center carries Captain Mowatt’s, and caterer Ann Marie’s Kitchen is wild about his sauces, Stevens confirmed.
Similar to mustard, salsa and barbecue sauce, hot sauces are a culinary gateway to flavor and depth.
“People are looking for variety. They want what they eat to be elevated. Even if they order chowder, they want something special,” Waldron said. “Hot sauce delivers.”
At Maine’s Pantry on Commercial Street, a shelf groaning with hot sauces testifies to a strong demand. From the Kennebunkport Sauce Co. to Beast Feast Maine in Bridgton to organic experiments such as Waldo County hot sauce from Three Lily Farm in Thorndike, more pop up each year. The Gringo Killer from Guzman’s in Scarborough is a vinegary, peppery one-two punch that makes chili say “hey now.”
Is competition bad for business? On the contrary. “The more the merrier,” Waldron said. “If you walk into a store and see 10 or 15 bottles, now you are thinking hot sauce.”
Now in his fifth year, former zoologist Kelts Gordon is having so much success that he is looking for a commercial location for Kennebunkport Sauce Co. His blueberry-based sauce is popular at local inns and hotels and is a feature at breakfast buffets.
“It’s found its home with eggs and relates well with hot dogs, too,” Gordon said.
Alaska is an emerging market for his all-natural wild Maine blueberry sauce.
“It does nice things to game,” he said of the fruit, jalapeno, onions and habanero sauce with medium heat.
“A lot of sauces out there are flamethrowers. I want people to taste the food and blueberries and everything that goes with it,” Gordon said.
Although some hot sauce owners make it sound easy, like any endeavour it takes patience and persistence.
He has amassed an impressive line of flavors and garnered awards, but Stevens says hot sauce is not a get-rich-quick scheme. You’ve got to love it.
“There are a lot of people that like the thought of it,” he said. “They get in and get out. It’s not easy to make a living. Most are doing it on the side. But it’s all we do.”
