Long before Gallant Tiger, there was a mascot suit.
Kamal Mohamed spent his high school games inside the Gallant Tiger mascot suit at South High in Minneapolis. Afterward, he sold PB&Js in the parking lot. He never really stopped: a late-night sandwich counter in college, the Nashville Coop food truck, and then Stepchld, his first restaurant. The PB&J followed him the whole way. It's what cooks make themselves at the end of a shift, with good bread and good jam.
He was wearing the tiger suit when he made his first sale. That's where the name comes from.
One question started this company: What would happen if a chef made a PB&J?
Two weeks in, we got a cease-and-desist.
Two weeks after we launched in 2022, the biggest name in crustless sandwiches sent us a cease-and-desist. At the time we were a handful of people making sandwiches by hand in Minneapolis. The story made national news.
Kamal's answer to the press still says it best:
“They can compete with us in the market, the good old American way — or they can invest in us. Either way: bring it.”
Anyone can remove the crust. We obsess over everything else.
Strawberry Cardamom. Blueberry Lemon Thyme. Real fruit, in combinations you'd expect on a restaurant menu, not in the freezer aisle. And the label holds up: 10g of protein and 5g of fiber per sandwich. Kosher certified, 100% vegan.
