A note from Nu
Where it started.
When I was little, I lived with my nan for a while. I was the pickiest eater at the table, so every night she'd leave a pot of bone broth bubbling in her slow cooker, the traditional way, with herbs. It was her quiet way of looking after me. Years later, that picky eater tried protein shakes to look after herself, and my skin and my stomach strongly disagreed. That's when I finally read the label: thickeners, sweeteners, fillers. Not what I wanted in my body.
So I went back to nan's broth, and one sip took me straight back to her kitchen. Nothing in the shops tasted like hers, so I decided to make my own bone broth powder. I reached out to over a hundred food manufacturers to help me make it properly. Nearly all of them said no. I only needed one yes. Then came the glamorous part: the first three years of packing every order myself, no weekends off, and one dislocated rib (thanks, pallet). I'd do it all again, because every pouch still goes out the way nan would want. She always taught me to pay it forward, so we started the Good Karma Club: a little kindness passed on, one friend at a time.
