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Our Story 2018-08-01T22:55:25+00:00

THE QUEST FOR A BETTER PICKLE

MEET ALLISON & DREW CESATI

Founded in Crested Butte, Colorado in 2011, Yee-Haw Pickle Co. was built on the belief that good food doesn’t need to be loaded with artificial colors, flavors or preservatives. With fresh ingredients and authentic flavors, we strive to make pickles that stand the test of time.

After Allison was diagnosed with food allergies in 2010, nutrition labels took on a whole new meaning. Store bought pickles were some of the worst offenders, loaded with yellow 5, sodium benzoate, and calcium chloride. But rather than give up on pickles entirely, we started making our own, packing them full of fresh Habaneros and whole spices in our home kitchen at 9,300 ft.

During the summer of 2011, we moved to Park City, Utah to launch Yee- Haw Pickle Co., where we sold our first jar of Hot Damn Dills at the local farmer’s market. We were surprised by how many people had never tasted an all-natural pickle. After building a loyal following at farmer’s markets, we convinced local retailers to stock our products where we sampled our pickles weekly, adding new flavors based on customer requests.

Over the past seven years, we’ve grown manufacturing and distribution and have moved operations back to Crested Butte, but our original recipes have stayed the same. Our most popular flavors, the Hot Damn Dills and No Frills Dills were created during our first year at the markets and these same flavors are available today at select retailers nationwide.

YEE-HAW!

WHERE DID THE NAME COME FROM?

“An expression of enthusiasm or exuberance…” – Oxford Dictionary

Notorious for belting out “Yee-haw’s” while skiing untracked powder, we had agreed on our name before we ever even made a pickle. There was no back and forth, no list of potential brand names; it was Yee-Haw Pickle Company right from the start. In classic entrepreneurial fashion, the framework for our pickle company began as ideas on a cocktail napkin, including both our name and the infamous “pickle dude”.

ODE to REBIRTHA

We said farewell to our most loyal steed, Rebirtha, our ’98 Ford Ranger in April, 2013.

Rebirtha hauled 1500 lbs of cucumbers over Parley’s Canyon, (7,120 ft) multiple times a week for over two years.  She carried more than 200,000 jars of pickles from the kitchen we rented in Kamas, Utah to our storage unit in Park City where we originally ran sales & distribution.

Rebirtha drove us to our first meeting with Whole Foods in Boulder, Colorado and lugged over
1,000 lbs of pickles and gear to hundreds of farmers markets each week. Her engine would occasionally smoke, but she never failed us, not once.

Her final journey as the Yee-Haw pickle hauler was pulling us and our trailer over the 11,018 ft Red Mountain Pass outside of Durango, Colorado, where we had been passing out pickle brine shots at an endurance mountain bike race. She overheated on top of the pass and let us know it was time for retirement.

Convinced that Rebirtha would be heading to pasture, we listed her topper for sale. In a twist of fate, the family who purchased her white cap collected and pimped out Ford Rangers. We couldn’t believe it, but the next day, they came back to the Brine House with a trailer and loaded her up, cap and all.

A few months later we received a picture of Rebirtha. She had a new engine and was shined up to tip top form.  She is now enjoying life as a weekend cruiser. 

Thank you Rebirtha, we couldn’t have done it without you ol’ girl!

“Hi! I have never contacted a food company to express my gratitude but your No Frill Dills are worth the effort. I grew up on dill pickles. I have fond memories of dill pickles. I LOVE dill pickles. It took all my effort not to do a little happy dance in the aisle and open the jar to eat them right there just like a little kid stuffing them in my face. Although I did manage to get them home without incident, I am having a hard time pacing myself. It is one thing to finally find a dill pickle without garlic but your pickles taste even better than I recall. So, thank you.”

—MELISSA P.