"I don't spend one dime on advertising," he says. "Not one dime. It's all word of mouth."
As often as not, most of the words come from his mouth.
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"This is the only place in Denver where you can get Hatch chile," he says again and again to any customer who asks -- and many of them do. "And I've got a bill of lading to prove it."
And so he does.
Taped on the tarp beside the cash register are three yellow shipping receipts from Franzoy's Young Guns operation in Hatch. Franzoy suggested that Sanchez post them to clear up any confusion about the pedigree of his peppers.
"We want people to know we have Hatch," Sanchez says. "We're not just some little stand on the road with a sign that just says 'Hatch.' We have the real thing. There's proof right there."
But the best proof isn't always on paper.
"Are you from New Mexico?" a customer asks him. "Well, I'm from New Mexico, and I want New Mexico prices. How much do you want? Eighteen dollars a bushel! I used to buy them for $13! This is ridiculous. I don't want to hear it. This is highway robbery. I'm not even sure this is Hatch. When I go home, I'm going to taste it."
Sanchez shrugs.
"We guarantee all our chile," he says. "If you don't like it, bring it back."
Such frankness isn't always appreciated. Another woman was so offended by Sanchez that she left his tent for La Conasupo grocery store a few blocks away.
"He was a jerk," she says. "I asked him if it was Hatch and he said, 'We're the only place in Denver that sells Hatch.' And I said, 'How do I know for sure?' And he said, 'Look. We're the only place that has it. We're going to run out soon. You want it or not?' And I said, 'No. Give me my money back.' The jerk. What does he think he has? A corner on the market? I hope he does run out. Then no one else will go to him."
Sanchez takes his critics in stride. He's trying to run a business, he says, not win any popularity contests.
"It's not a matter of cornering the market," he says. "How am I cornering the market? I'm just one guy selling chile. It's just a matter of being in the right place at the right time."
And he is.
As the day ends, Sanchez makes room for another truckload from Franzoy.
"We did 400 bushels last week, and it will only get better as the weather gets colder," he says. "I'm breaking records here. This will be the biggest weekend ever."
Sanchez is the first to admit he's fortunate to have a supplier like Franzoy, who keeps him well-stocked in Hatch. That and his own surly brand of salesmanship are all that have kept the leaf-hoppers, chile thieves and con artists at bay. But even for him, time is running out.
"In another two weeks, people will be out of luck," Sanchez says. "There will be no more Hatch. And once the chile turns red, the season's over."
When it is, he'll be ready.
"We're going to move down south and sell ristras for Christmas!" he says.
