07/09/2026
My grandad's name is on every bottle we make.
Harrisons means Harri's sons. That's not branding, it's just what happened.
Harishchandra Dhutia came to Loughborough with a van and not much else. He delivered vegetables door to door. His wife would visit customers to check nothing was missing from the order. Nobody asked her to.
Actually the sauces came much later. First it was groceries, then a corner shop, then somehow pallets of spices a friend left in the garden and never came back for.
He still hasn't, by the way.
Here's the bit I think about most. When your family name is on the label, a bad batch isn't a corporate failure. It's a face. Mine, my dad's, his dad's.
And in this trade you're not talking to a procurement portal. You're talking to the chef. The owner. They ring you directly and they don't soften it.
We've never lost a customer on service. I don't say that proudly, I say it nervously. Because the day we do, it won't be Harrisons that failed. It'll be us.
The recipes are inherited. The trust is the part you have to earn again every single delivery.