Every bottle on the shelf started life as a mason jar with a number written on masking tape. Number 4 was mustard-forward and a little too sweet. Number 11 was the one everyone kept reaching for without being told to.
We didn't set out to make five things. We set out to make one rub good enough to put our names on, and then kept finding reasons to make another. Gulf Coast Blackening came out of a redfish dinner that went sideways in the best way. Port A Shrimp Shack came out of an actual shrimp boil, on an actual dock, at Port A.
The naming happened last, and later than it should have. We are not marketing people. Landon wanted to name Number 4 after his truck. It did not happen, and Mobile Bay Mustard BBQ earned its name the honest way instead - it's the one we make when the tide's out past Mobile Bay and somebody's firing up thighs.
Two of the five almost didn't make the cut. RiverKingz All Purpose started as a backup seasoning for a gig cooler, made because we ran out of the good stuff two nights before a show. It tested better than the thing it was replacing, which is a humbling way to learn a lesson about how little the fancy version usually adds.
If something on the shelf tastes like it was made twice before it was made right, that's because it was. We'd rather ship the fourth draft with a real name on it than the first draft with a better story.
More from the kitchen
Why we keep the salt under ten percent
Most rubs on a grocery shelf run salt-heavy because salt is cheap and it's the easiest way to make a blend taste like something. We went the other way on purpose.
Our storyTwenty-five years of RiverKingz, one kitchen
Before there was a bottle, there was a band, a green room cooler, and two guys who couldn't agree on the setlist but never argued about the rub.
Read it. Now go cook it.
Every post ends the same way, with a fire and a bottle. Five small-batch rubs and sauces, low on salt so you can season heavy.
