We’ve all struggled with these supply chain shortages. We’ve all struggled with being told to stay at home. But #ScaiaBlog strives to provide an optimistic look toward the future.

Which brings us to salsa.

A public relations associate called the other day, demanding to present me with some ice cream. He’s done it before. For journalism students: It’s important to accept that ice cream, but only to build relationships. That way, you’re not always following another station that breaks a story.

Example:

When he called, I asked, “Hey, do you still work with Mrs. Renfro’s? Because I can’t doggone find my preferred flavor of salsa at [a grocery store chain I would prefer not to name].”

Naturally, he put me in touch with Doug Renfro. We’ve talked before, and after that first meeting, he demanded I take home a selection of salsa. This was probably about ten years ago when I still was a relatively new Texan and, like a Ohioan, gravitated toward non-threatening varieties of Mrs. Renfro’s like “Mild” or, if I was in a particularly devil-may-care mood, Peach. Doug Renfro sent me home with a selection of different salsas.

I understand now he did that just to provide me with the gateway salsa to get me hooked. “Habanero” might evoke a level of spiciness I was not prepared for, but “Mango Habanero” sounds innocent enough.

Oh, but the Mango Habanero then gets you thinking, “I’ll just try a little bit of this Raspberry Chipotle. Just a bit.” Next thing you know, you’ve got a bottle of Craft Beer salsa on your refrigerator door between the horseradish and pickles. Hypothetically.

And Renfro explains their sales jumped 35% when the pandemic started because people were eating more at home and experimenting with new products, so yes, the Craft Beer Salsa started flying off the shelves at an even greater rate than the stalwart varieties. As people were cooking at home, some worried they’d be thrown into a cilantro-infused jail if they tried different salsas mixed together.

Adding to the problem, while everyone was rushing to the store to buy toilet paper, we all also apparently realized that, in a world without salsa, the survivors would envy the dead. In this clip, Renfro says he was honored people felt his salsa was worth hoarding.

Sales have stayed high, only dropping about 5% from their peak. But Renfro makes a strong point: God only makes tomatoes certain months a year, so they couldn’t just order more from their suppliers to meet demand.

In fact, he ran out of lids. While he says everyone at the shop was worried if people would buy this non-decorative-lidded salsa, the back-up lids have become collectors’ items.

His office had several inflatable jars of salsa. Back when WBAP left its studio in Arlington, I liberated a inflatable jar of peach salsa which still ties my living room together, topped with a sombrero I also liberated from the old studio in Arlington.

But since Renfro has been able to successfully pivot and adjust to supply chain issues, he demanded I take home a selection of salsas.

And also a couple mugs because we’ve had a few chilly days and a nice mug of Carolina Reaper can warm you right up.

Or Ghost Pepper. Renfro says they always run different flavors in the same order to make sure one won’t bleed into the other. They learned that the hard way.

But Loyal Scaiaholics know we’re all on a journey, and we’re all questing to be our best selves. As such, I’ll get to know some new varieties of salsa.