When Chef Joe and I first said, “Okay, let’s really do this,” we had a bold idea—puffed pasta chips—and not much else. No brand name, no packaging, no clue where to source ingredients. We just knew this snack had potential. But potential alone doesn’t get you on store shelves. We needed an actual product people would want to buy, and we couldn’t stop reminding ourselves that this idea was worth bringing to life.
Tantos (and Flavors) Are Born
Before any official recipe testing, we had to nail down the concept and flavors. Chef Joe had some interesting ideas—like a yuzu-based seasoning and even a sweet churro flavor—but I wasn’t convinced these “fit” the vibe of pasta. Enter my wife with a eureka moment: “Why not name it something that plays off Joe’s pop-up series, ‘Tanto Sí,’ and base the flavors on classic Italian dishes?” She proposed “Tantos” to sit alongside Cheetos, Doritos, and Fritos—brilliant for branding, plus we could lock down a short, unique domain and social handles.
From there, it all clicked: Marinara, Pesto, Cacio e pepe, and a “plain” (our take on butter noodle–name was still TBD at the time but soon became Classico). Suddenly, we had a real flavor roadmap.
Here’s where Chef Joe took over. Let’s just say I didn’t handle much of the cooking (my strengths lie elsewhere). He did everything out of his apartment kitchen, which was comically small for what we were trying to do. There were bowls, strainers, boxes of pasta, and random seasoning jars everywhere. Each session felt like a mini Top Chef challenge—Joe concocting multiple versions of each flavor while I hovered around, trying not to get in the way.
For the next seven months or so, we’d do one or two tasting sessions a month at my place. We’d invite my wife, plus a few trusted friends (shoutout to Ben and Laura), and line up various “batches” on the table. We’d nibble, jot down notes, cleanse our palates, nibble again, and compare. It was both fun and frustrating. Some flavors rocked; others missed the mark. But eventually, we refined each recipe into something we all loved—a crucial step in creating Tantos’ signature taste.
Once we locked in our four flavors, the next hurdle was figuring out how to bag and sell them. We debated packaging types: a stand-up pouch or a traditional chip bag? And ingredient sourcing was another headache—no big supplier wanted to give us a wholesale deal. We resorted to buying in bulk, Costco-style, to keep costs manageable. On top of that, Chef Joe and I each pitched in a set amount of money to show we were both “all in.” It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it gave us the runway to take Tantos from concept to reality.
Meanwhile, we still needed a logo and packaging design that felt real. Neither of us had design chops, so we tapped into our networks. A family friend—a graphic designer—offered a “friends and family” rate and helped create a basic logo and simple packaging. It wasn’t fancy agency work, but it embodied our scrappy startup vibe. Chef Joe handled frying, seasoning, and bagging; I tackled the website, packaging sourcing, and business logistics. Together, we brainstormed the brand language, logo tweaks, and anything else that popped up along the way.
By the time we had a final product in hand, we realized Chef Joe’s apartment setup severely limited our production capacity. That’s when we landed on the concept of “inventory drops”—like a sneaker release—but we’ll dive into that in a future post. For now, just know we were steadily moving past “Is this viable?” and into “We have to make this happen.”
Bootstrapping the Dream
Financing this whole endeavor was another challenge. We weren’t ready to fundraise or pitch investors; we just needed enough to experiment and look semi-legit. So Chef Joe and I each took some personal savings and split it 50-50. It wasn’t a massive amount, but it covered bulk flour, oils, seasonings, and the design work. Looking back, it’s wild how “unofficial” it all was—apartment kitchens, homemade labels, and late-night debates over which pouch size to order. But in all that chaos, we felt the excitement building. Friends would say, “I can totally see this on store shelves,” and every comment sparked a little more confidence.
Thinking back on those early days, I’m struck by how collaborative and fun it all was. Sitting around a kitchen table with friends, sampling every flavor we could dream up, made us believe in Tantos that much more. My friend Laura would say, “We’ll remember this moment when Tantos is on store shelves and a household name,” and we’d laugh—half-joking, half-serious. But here’s the truth: if you care enough about an idea, you’ll find the people, the money, and the elbow grease to bring it to life. And that’s exactly what we did.
