Okay - so I’m a little bit crazy. In 1998, my wife Carol and I left the questionable comforts of a corporate existence and headed off into the great unknown: life against the Blue Ridge, putting our hands deeper into the Earth, and the promise of a quieter, more rural life.

The day we closed on the farm, I quit my job as a marketing manager in the computer industry and The Chile Man was off!

We’ve come out here with a bunch of idealistic goals, a willingness to work hard, and a desire to transform this place from the barren pasture it was to something substantially more productive. We’ve planted trees and shrubs, tilled through tough sod and sandy soil, pulled out truckfuls of base-of-the mountain rock, and organically and bio-intensively grown as many flowers, herbs, peppers, and berries as we can.

And then, there’s the spiritual side of things: to do, as Gary Snyder best said, “the real work.” Something more real than suit coats and ties. Better than cubicles and no windows. More meaningful than suitcases and software. Something which might help heal the Earth, rather than exploit it. Something enduring, something sustainable, something eternal.

The Chile Man sprang from a simple idea: that we could provide a variety of all-natural food products bursting with flavor, unique in creation, and with just a little zing. Something with the freshness and taste we remembered growing up. Something we couldn’t find on grocery store shelves. It helped that I loved to cook - and that my first concoctions received rave reviews from our friends.

The truth is, my cooking had gotten a little out of hand, and my gardening, too! In 1996 and ‘97, I picked more than 15,000 peppers from our small lot in Arlington, Virginia. And during the fall and winter months, I busied myself with making more than 50 kinds of sauces. So many, in fact, that I ended up taking over the family freezer with the remainder.

Finally Carol had had enough. “You have to get rid of some of this stuff!” she cried. “We’re out of room!” “Get rid of it?”, I replied. “Get rid of it? I can’t just throw it away! These are my children!!!” “Well,” she said, pausing a while. “Hmmmmmm. You could always try selling a few…” And so we did. If only she’d known what she was getting into. We don’t just have that one freezer any more; we now have four!

We’ve come a long way from those humble beginnings. Our first batches were packed in recycled Polaner jelly jars, with a simple, taped-on , black-and-white label. Our friends and colleagues were our first customers. And although The Chile Man represents quite a bit of work - we figure both of us work more than 70 hours each week – it’s been a relatively smooth climb.

During that climb, we’ve learned about hermetic (or vacuum) sealing, the preservation of acidified foods, and proper bottling temperature. We’ve learned about FDA regulations and the Code of Federal Records (CFR). We’ve also become USDA-certified in Acidified Food Processing; qualified to become an FDA Food Canning Establishment (FCE #02773); and were admitted to the Virginia’s Finest quality manufacturing program in April 2000.

So – What’s This About Value-Added?