Blatch’s BBQ
“My grandma Rosa made everything with love. Watching her cook was like watching someone do magic with their hands - and it stuck with me.” Chris Blatchford, owner of Blatch’s BBQ, might not have realized it at the time, but those early years in San Diego watching his grandmother create Mexican dishes from scratch left a lasting impression. It was more than just flavors. It was a feeling - a way of expressing care, joy, and creativity. “I remember being four years old, leaning against the kitchen counter, just staring at her. I probably asked a thousand questions.”
Chris grew up in Southern California, just outside San Diego, in a vibrant neighborhood with deep Latin American roots. His grandmother, Rosa, was from Tijuana, Mexico, and her cooking - filled with warmth, tradition, and bold flavors - inspired Chris from the time he was a toddler. His mother played an equally foundational role. At age six, after asking what to do with the surplus of Granny Smith apples in their backyard, Chris created his own spiced "Apple Chris" recipe, baked it using a step stool, and sold it door to door in disposable tins. He even handed his mom five dollars “for the utilities,” he told her. “She was everything one could hope for in a mom."
Chris moved to Utah in 1999, finishing high school in Cache Valley and later attending college there. In 2011, Chris relocated to Salt Lake City. “Poor life decisions working in the finance world,” he joked about what brought him south. For fifteen years, Chris worked in the corporate world, eventually becoming a financial management analyst overseeing research and charity portfolios at the University of Utah. Meanwhile, he was quietly building something else entirely - working 100-hour weeks as he juggled his day job and his growing side hustle: Blatch’s BBQ.
Blatch’s BBQ began as a creative, financial outlet encouraged by his wife, Joy. The two had met in 2009 as servers at IHOP and bonded over shared exhaustion - leaning on each other, literally, between tables. Their first date was to a coworker’s funeral. “Romance blossomed from there,” Chris said with his signature mix of heart and humor. Joy is now his partner in every sense - sitting by his side in the kitchen during service, taking orders, managing payments, designing branding and stickers, and offering ideas he is always eager to try. “She’ll taste something at a restaurant and say, ‘We can make it better at home,’” Chris said. “She doesn’t cook for Blatch’s, but she’s in the kitchen. Her fingerprints are on everything.”
In July 2021, after Utah passed its Microenterprise Home Kitchen law, Chris and Joy launched Blatch’s BBQ out of their 1896 home. Chris worked closely with city and health departments to meet all regulations, converting their historic residence into a legal micro-restaurant. “In the beginning, it was two or three people coming by,” he said. “Friends telling friends. Then their friends told more friends.” It took about five months before things really took off. Influential locals started spreading the word and then came the turning point: a feature in The Salt Lake Tribune.
“We weren’t ready,” Chris laughed. “We didn’t have real prep tables; we didn’t have a commercial fridge. I was serving food out of coolers. There was a printed sign taped to the front door.” Even so, the demand surged. “I never imagined what we’d become. I just thought I’d make some real good barbecue that wasn’t meat-based.”
Blatch’s has since won numerous awards, including Best BBQ in Salt Lake, all while being completely vegan since 2022. The space feels like a speakeasy. Visitors enter Chris and Joy’s actual home, often greeted by a line that stretches down the block. There are couches where people relax, chat, and share stories while waiting for their orders. “It’s not just about the food,” Chris explained. “It’s about connection. They get to watch me cook, ask questions, and learn about the process. Some things take five days to make.”
Every sauce, pickle, and protein are made from scratch. Chris harvests juniper berries for his pickles, seaweed for brisket, and makes all his own hot sauces - up to twelve bottled varieties available each week. His garlic aioli? Joy’s idea. His brisket? “That’s my trademark,” Chris said, noting it is now in version 115. “I’m a flavor snob. I’m never going to settle for traditional tastes. If you want mellow and mild, I’m not your guy.”
The brisket takes five days to prepare and involves overnight veggie broth, smoked and ground mushrooms, charred onions, and garlic. The mac and cheese - his Bomb Diggity Mac - is a two-pound showstopper topped with hot sauce, herbs, and seven crunchy toppings, plus a house-made vegan protein. His steak strips are also a customer favorite. “The best thing about barbecue is that you should have leftovers,” he said.
Wednesdays are experimental. Chris offers just one dish - whatever he feels inspired to make - and customers simply ask for “the special.” Past creations have included fig and balsamic cornflake-crusted fried chicken sandwiches made from seitan. “It’s how I express myself as a chef,” Chris said. “People never get tired of it. I never repeat anything for at least three or four months.”
Fridays feature a more traditional barbecue menu with sandwiches, platters, and à la carte options. He also offers a freezer full of take-home mains - fifteen rotating proteins, half of which change weekly. Monthly Taco Tuesdays mean hand-pressed tortillas, slow-cooked fillings, and fresh salsas. And on Sundays, the Crepe Brunch features vegan crepes stuffed with roasted artichokes, spinach, and homemade sauces, or dessert crepe options like blueberry or Oreo cheesecake.
Despite the success, Blatch’s remains deeply personal. “It’s something special,” Chris said. “Being part of a wedding, a birthday, or a family gathering. It’s an honor that they choose my food. People feel that love, and they give it back.” He chats with everyone, often joking and “flirting” while he prepares their food. “You can always trust the chubby chef,” he laughed.
Everything Chris does is self-taught. He began by cooking for friends, which turned into larger gatherings, and finally, a community-driven business with a loyal, ever-growing following. “There was always something missing when I went to barbecues,” he said. “Now I get to fill that gap and share a full-time hobby with the world.” What is most important to Chris? “I want people to taste how much I love doing this,” Chris said. “And if I can make amazing food without hurting animals or the planet, that’s even better.”
