David Bar

Peter Rahal was living in Chicago during the Groupon era around 2010-2012, when tech entrepreneurship ruled and traditional CPG was considered uncool and low-status. He had a background in food and supply chain; his co-founder Jared was the organized, level-headed counterpart to Peter's creative nature. One day, Peter read an article in Inc. Magazine about low-cost ways to start a business, and it mentioned nutrition bars as an accessible entry point. He sent it to Jared with a simple pitch: "$10,000, we can do this." It wasn't a detailed market analysis—it was inspiration and action.

They literally made protein bars in Peter's mom's basement using a five-quart and 20-quart vertical mixer. They had no idea how to form or package products, so they figured it out as they went. Friends mocked them, but Peter learned a critical lesson early: "You can't care what people think." The first bars were fresh, made to order, and honestly delicious—but they looked different from competitors, darker and less uniform. This would matter later.

Peter was already deep in the CrossFit community, so he started there. He'd show up at his local CrossFit box with samples and ask the owner if he could sell bars from the gym. The box owners—good people who recognized quality—said yes. Crucially, CrossFit customers already knew and loved LaBar (the paleo bar), so they had context for a simple-ingredient, less-sweet product. More importantly, velocity at CrossFit gyms was 80 bars per week, while convenience stores only moved 1-4 bars per week. Peter realized: "If it works at one CrossFit gym, why wouldn't it work at all CrossFit gyms across the country?" They went all-in on this one distribution channel before even considering Whole Foods or traditional retail. This focus became their unfair advantage.

For three years, RX Bar stayed hyper-focused on CrossFit while testing other channels. Convenience stores and grocery stores didn't work; the velocity was too low. Then came the inflection point: a rebrand. Peter hired brand strategist Scott Victor and wrote a precise brief identifying the real problem. "Rx" meant prescription in mainstream culture but meant "doing something to a high standard" in CrossFit culture. The solution wasn't to chase mass appeal—it was to lean into what made the product valuable. The new label showed the actual ingredients ("three egg whites, two dates, six almonds, four cashews") because that's what mattered to customers, not marketing claims. The design minimized the confusing name while leading with egg whites, which consumers associate with premium breakfast and quality. This rebrand coincided with expansion into regional grocers like Wegmans and Publix, then mainstream retailers. Revenue exploded from $7M to $36M to $160M, financed by profitable sales and a line of credit Peter's parents personally guaranteed (which they never needed to tap). The market had been there the whole time—they just had to look uncompetitive while actually being uncompetitive.

Peter sold RX Bar for $600 million. For several years after, he tried to diversify—exploring synthetic biology and other industries—but realized he wasn't equipped to master entirely new domains. He decided self-awareness was more valuable than ego: he was a CPG entrepreneur, and that was okay. When his non-compete expired, he couldn't resist the pull. He saw an opportunity to build David Bar, a protein bar with 26-27g of protein and ~150 calories (vs. Quest's ~20g protein, 150 calories). Now 38 years old with a four-month-old son, Peter says he's the CEO and in the office every day. He doesn't build companies for the money anymore—he builds because idle time is dangerous, because his son needs to see him work hard, and because he's simply not happy without responsibility, challenge, and risk. "I'm a better man with responsibility," he says.