The newest venture is not software.
Onionbreath — onion-themed food under its own brand. That’s the whole idea, and it started the way most of mine do: as a joke that refused to stay buried.
Where it came from
I love onions. Eggs at breakfast, onion on the lunch sandwich, onions in whatever’s for dinner. If a dish can carry them, it does. Years ago that devotion hardened into a standing fantasy: a restaurant where every single dish had onions in it. Every dish. I never pursued it seriously — but I never stopped thinking about it either.
At some point I told my friend Thomas about it, and as savvy bros do, he immediately looked up the domain. It was open. He told me to grab it. I didn’t. I’m always carrying more product ideas than I can build, and most of them go into the back of my head to wait their turn. Onionbreath went back there with the rest of them.
Months later it surfaced again, and this time I went to check half-certain it would be gone. Good names don’t survive. This one had. So I snatched it, and here we are: building a luxury onion pipeline from field to mouth, for consumers around the world.
The shape of it
Resell onion-themed food first, watch what actually moves, and put the movers under our own brand. No launch date — the store opens when the products are ready, and not before. Announcing a date is how a side venture turns into a deadline with no product.
That’s the visible layer. The store is where people look, not the whole of what’s being built — there’s more moving underneath than a gag-shop read suggests. It’ll show when it shows.
And yes, one of the early candidates is onion cotton candy. It photographs like a fever dream. Nobody needs it — which is exactly what “viral” is made of.
Onionbreath joins the ventures row. DW Trim runs jobs, Curtis ships tools, and now something for the shelf. Different industries, same ledger.
