Chili-Heads hunting for high Scoville units can voyage to Georgetown for mouthfuls of heat. The city square brags an award-winning hot sauce maker and his shop.
Mike Valencia, owner of Mikey V’s Hot Sauce Shop, has worshiped hot sauces since his youth. As a preteen, Valencia, who later spent a 27-year career in automotive repair, tossed papers and mowed lawns for a little coin to spend at Southern California hot sauce shops.
He has made his own hot sauce ever since.
When Valencia moved to Austin in 2010, his brother dared him to enter the Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival. He did for the first time in 2012, and he won first place in the individual category.
“People kept telling us we needed our stuff on [retail] shelves,” he said.
Mikey V’s opened March 1, 2015, with six products cooked in a 500-square-foot commercial kitchen. Valencia made it his full-time gig in February 2016. Now the shop sells more than 25 of its own products made in a 3,000-square-foot kitchen as well as products from other hot sauce makers.
“Texas products make up 90 percent of the store. We hang our hat on that,” Valencia said. “When tourists come by they get a little taste of the Texas heat.”
The other 10 percent of merchandise is claimed by award-winning products from hot sauce makers around the country, Valencia said.
“‘Started from the bottom; now we here,’” Valencia said, quoting the rapper Drake. “I followed my dreams, and here we are, in New Zealand, Australia, the U.K. and Canada and over 100 stores nationwide.”
The store hawks up to 20,000 Mikey V’s bottles yearly, not counting pallets shipped. As the company grows, Valencia said he plans to increase assembly line abilities and equipment capacity.
“People here love local products,” Valencia said. “That’s one of the reasons we chose Georgetown to home our business.”
Mike Valencia, owner of Mikey V’s, said he had to seek special permits from the health department to serve samples of hot sauces at his store.[/caption]Mikey V’s benefited from a hot sauce market boom. The U.S. hot sauce market grew 150 percent between 2000 and 2014, according to market research company Euromonitor data. The popularity has been attributed by various market research companies to increased Asian and Hispanic populations as well as the rising popularity of hot wings.
Valencia, a self-described foodie, said his recipes are borne from his home cooking. When he cooks, Valencia said he ruminates on the hot sauces that should accompany the dish.
“Sometimes any other sauce just won’t work with that dish, so I have to make a new one,” he said. “That’s why my hot sauces are not standard like the Cajun sauces you find on every table at every restaurant.”
Many of his sauces, such as Zing—a mild sauce with Asian inspiration—are motivated by attempts at home-cooking world cuisine. Some come from his background in Southern California and Hawaii—such as a peach, pineapple and habanero sauce made to be served on tropical-style foods.
If the sauce tastes like cash, Valencia will test how the product will last on shelves and if it is too acidic to be consumed to make sure it is a feasible product.
“If it sticks, it sticks,” he said. “But I still want to make sure the sauce will sell.”
Valencia will hold taste tests for his Facebook followers, calling testers into his commercial kitchen. If these loyal customers like it, he said he knows he can sell it.
The peppers and produce used to cook these vats of sauces are then locally sourced. A Houston company provides the bottles. A Pflugerville shop adds labels adorned with devilish figures representing his unique hot blends.
“I ask artists to taste the sauce and draw what they’re eating,” Valencia said. “Then my family and friends sit around throwing out names until one sticks.”
Valencia then sends the sauce to food processing labs to ensure it is safe for consumption. When the government OKs production, Valencia fills bottles.