Dangerous Pretzel Co.
“Everybody thinks they know what a pretzel is. We are here to change that." Drew Sparks's words capture both the confidence and the leap behind Dangerous Pretzel Co., the downtown Salt Lake City shop he owns with his wife, Lindsay Sparks. They admitted, "It felt a little crazy at first,” but what began as an ambitious pivot from tech into food has become a bold addition to the city’s growing culinary scene - one built on conviction, curiosity, and a shared desire to create something side by side.
Both Drew and Lindsay grew up in Lindon, Utah, in large families where the kitchen was always active and meals were rarely small. Drew is one of seven. Lindsay is one of five. Childhood meant being outside - biking, swimming, playing sports - and in Lindsay’s case, dancing for years before continuing at Brigham Young University. Drew gravitated toward building and systems, eventually earning a degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Utah. They met through mutual friends while home for the summer during college, married in 2011, and began building their lives in parallel.
Drew spent a short period in the oil field before deciding it was not his future. A year in Colorado gave them space to reassess before returning to Utah where Drew co-founded a healthcare services company that attempted to evolve into a software platform. “It failed pretty miserably. But it gave me exposure to building software and managing tech.” That experience led him to start Swell, a healthcare patient engagement company he built and ran for eight years before stepping away in 2022. The pace and pressure of startup life had taken their toll. “Starting a tech company takes a lot out of you. I wanted time off. I wanted to reset.”
Lindsay entered the tech world immediately after graduation, working for startups and later Silicon Valley companies, eventually managing remote marketing roles during the long Covid stretch. She carried stability and benefits during those demanding years but felt her own fatigue. “Being on Zoom all day with young kids in the house was a lot. We were both feeling itchy. We wanted to shake things up.” After more than a decade in marketing, the idea of building something tangible - something local - felt energizing.
The two had always thrown around ideas. “We are both idea people. We daydream. We throw things out.” Long before pretzels surfaced, there was clarity about one thing. “We just knew we wanted to build something together.”
Utah’s snack landscape provided the spark. Cookies, soda shops, candy, and ice cream line nearly every commercial corner. Savory options felt less prominent. “Pretzels are everywhere, but they are always the afterthought. No one really makes the pretzel the star of the show.”
Dangerous Pretzel was born from that gap, planted firmly in Salt Lake City’s Post District to be part of the city’s evolving food culture. Establishing themselves downtown felt important. The brand name came after months of collaboration with a creative agency, and when “Dangerous” was presented, it immediately resonated - playful, confident, slightly unexpected. The playfulness is evident in a tagline above their menu, “Danger is our first name,” a twist on the classic idiom.
Quality guided every decision from the start. There are two general pretzel traditions - American and European. The Sparks chose the European route. “We did not want to be an Auntie Anne’s that serves beer.” European style pretzels are dipped in a food grade lye bath before baking, creating a darker crust, a delicate snap on the outside, and a distinctive tang. American versions often rely on baking soda and include sugar in the dough. “Our dough has no sugar. It is butter based, but savory. More authentic to what you would find in Europe.”
To achieve that authenticity, they partnered with a close friend who moved to Utah from Switzerland back in 2010. He missed the bread and pretzels from home and had spent years studying and experimenting. Together, the three of them worked in the kitchen for nearly a month testing and refining. “We just put our heads together and tested everything.” Pretzels, they discovered, are simple in ingredients but exacting in execution. “It is about being pure to that style.”
They imported a lye shower machine from Germany to ensure even coating and consistency. The dough is mixed, formed, proofed, dipped, scored, salted, and baked. For flavored varieties, it goes through a second pass in the oven.
Flavor itself became a differentiator. Rather than simply sprinkling extras on top, ingredients are folded directly into the dough, with hydration adjusted recipe by recipe. “We felt like it was a disservice to just put toppings on top and call it flavored. We wanted it to actually taste different all the way through.” The result is a lineup that balances the classic salted pretzel with inventive combinations such as chili-cheddar dough, or gooey pepperjack cheese and pepperoni, each maintaining the same structure and bite.
The shop carries beer, cider, kombucha, and canned wine under a beer and wine license. “We are the opposite of a brewery. They are beer first, pretzels second. We are pretzels first, beer second.” Nearly every beverage is locally sourced, reinforcing their desire to strengthen Utah’s food and beverage community.
The bakery itself was selected with growth in mind. The back of house allows for wholesale production, catering, and expansion without requiring a separate facility. The front of house was designed to feel welcoming and flexible - somewhere guests can grab something quickly or linger with friends or a laptop.
The early months were hands-on in every sense. Drew and Lindsay baked hundreds of pretzels themselves while coordinating childcare for their daughters. Hours were limited at first, systems tested in real time, and capacity expanded slowly.
Wholesale accounts now include ski resorts, sports venues, and local bars. Catering and corporate orders continue to grow. Conversations around franchising are underway. Frozen retail products and expanded distribution remain on the horizon. The evolution feels energizing rather than intimidating. “We are not set in our ways. If something makes sense and fits who we are, we will try it.”
At the core of it all is a belief that the category itself can be elevated. “Pretzels do not have to be an afterthought. They can be the reason you come in.” There is confidence in what they have built. “We know we have achieved what we set out to do. Once people taste it, they understand.” And there is vision that stretches beyond the Post District. “This is just the beginning. We are building something that can go far beyond these walls.”
