Manufacturing

For over two years making nut butter at home was part of my weekly routine. Days revolved around blending, filling, sealing, cleaning, and usually ended with me labelling fresh stock in front of the TV. Sometimes nights out were followed by a 5:30am alarm to start the process, always posting a quick #selfie in my apron to keep the fans entertained. In 2017, perhaps combined with the impact markets was having on me, it began to take its toll, gradually making nut butter felt more like a chore than a novelty. Dread is too strong a word but I knew something had to change before I grew resentful; not even inspiring Audible books retained my motivation or excitement.

However ready I was, personally, moving NB out of my kitchen was a risk. Demand was relatively low - mostly for markets, NB’s online shop and the odd independent stockist - and I was scared. Being in control of my product felt safe; I knew exactly how many jars of nut butter I could make, when - sometimes at the drop of a hairnet - and what consistency was optimum. It also gave my day structure, and me purpose, something I had to do; it was my job to see manufacturing through from beginning to end - and holding a finished jar in my hand that would eventually be passed on to someone else was a true accomplishment. Plus eating left-over nut butter was a huge perk. 

Agenda aside, I wanted my product to revolutionise the category, to sit alongside (or instead of) my competitors on a shelf in stores, not to be an artisan product found only at markets. To have a food product listed in a supermarket, it needs to be SALSA and/ or BRC certified, which can be accredited to third-party units only; NB needed more than what I could offer with our current set up; I was adamant in making this our next step. First I reached out to a range of factories, huge industrial ones in the Netherlands and Germany, then a couple of smaller ones in the UK owned by competing brands, which put me off. Eventually, after asking around, another food founder introduced me to the facility that made their own branded product. A recommendation I could trust, and minimum order quantity I could agree to.

Anyone I spoke to about scaling-up a product warned me that the outcome is never the same as when you make it yourself (and when I make nut butter, it is gold-dust). This made me nervous, I did not want to lose customers - or have anyone, myself included, prefer the original - the reason this product exists is for its incomparable texture and taste. Anyone I spoke to was right. I did an unprecedented amount of recipe testing at the factory before placing my first order, my one and only chance to smooth out any lumps, quite literally. And when Protein Nut Butter came out as a ball of dough, I took it as a sign and delisted it, at the same time I changed the recipe of Indulgent Nut Butter to make it less bitter. Two decisions two years too late, having seen one too many questionable facial expressions over the years; spontaneously introducing two new flavours to the range to counteract my loss. Golden Nut Butter was inspired by a video I saw on Instagram of macadamia butter being made - the Queen of nuts with its silky smooth texture was enough to tantalise me - adding coconut in my opinion was the missing ingredient to take it to that next level. Praline Nut Butter came to me randomly and organically; I was curious. What would it be like to recreate a typical praline but with a healthy twist, using maca powder for undertones of caramel, buttery pecans as the base, and making it crunchy with almonds; it worked, if I don’t say so myself.

The flexibility of launching new flavours on a whim is definitely something I miss about no longer making nut butter at home. In December 2016, for example, I launched a limited-edition Winter Nut Butter, featuring nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger and cloves, all wrapped up in a bespoke red, green and gold label designed to look like a present. It was the perfect product to sell and advertise, and create excitement around the brand, in the months running up to Christmas. And without having to commit to contracts or minimum order quantities, I could make one batch knowing that the risk of not selling it and having left-over stock was small. In fact, of all the risks involved, the biggest error I made was sending the press release email to over 450 contacts as CC instead of blind-copy, and this was before the days of Google’s option to ‘undo. Embarrassed is an understatement, reading the reply, “you sure know a lot of people!”, was an all time low.

One year after the factory and I first became acquainted, the day I was anticipating, I was both excited and nervous about, eventually came around; NB flying the nest is how I imagine it feels to have a child leave home. Not wanting them to go, holding on until the very last moment - deep down knowing this transition is necessary, character building. Officially moving manufacturing out of my flat and into the trusted hands of someone else - the weight off my shoulders for no longer being responsible was astonishing (perhaps parents can relate here too). Stripping ‘nut butter rules’ from my kitchen walls and cooking unconstrained, the freedom I gained was liberating. I felt like a new woman! I had SALSA accreditation, new and improved flavours, refreshed packaging (third time lucky, or so I thought). Minus a few initial hiccups - the texture curdled in our first big order of Perfect Nut Butter, which resulted in me sending all 200 jars back - outsourcing changed everything. To the point that when I ran out of stock a couple of months ago, mum suggested I make a batch at home to tie me over until the next factory run. I may have done this willingly and without hesitation every other day for over two years, but in a one word answer - no.

If I were to go back and change anything, it would be to ask the factory to oversee fulfilment and storage. Every new batch, hundreds of jars was delivered to me on a curb-side pallet, which, at face-value, literally means the courier will not take one step further. The hallway was my warehouse and my floor the packing-line. And if receiving a parcel is part of the experience, let’s just say that my jiffy bags were no Net-A-Porter.