I had the Ultimate Italian sandwich at Moody’s Delicatessen in Waltham, MA a few years ago. Joshua Smith, their resident deli genius, had inserted rings of Mama Lil’s original pickled goat horn peppers in place of the usual flabby, citric slabs of red roasted nothingness in between the cheese and the bread. It was an act of true connoisseurship.
I had never heard of Mama Lil. Her peppers were prominently marked as coming from Oregon, as if Portland were some kind of Pickled Pepper Athens. I had two competing visions of her, and they both involved head scarves. In one she was a kind of zaftig earth mother, overseeing a crew of vagabond ex-hippie pepper pluckers in a humid, hidden valley on the Pacific coast. In the other, she was a European grandma. I took home a really expensive jar of her peppers from Moody’s refrigerated case and ate all of them without wondering too hard how they were made. I figured I’d run into them again.
Which I did, but it took years. Partly because I never went back to Moody’s. My musician friend from Waltham moved to Nashville, and the hand surgeon I was seeing there fixed up my trigger finger, and Waltham is otherwise kind of a pain to get to. So imagine my delight when I ran into Mama Lil again. Her peppers were tucked into the crowded aisles of a market in lovely Woodstock, Vermont; a town pumped so full of Rockefeller money that they could apparently afford to buy them in bulk, and repackage them.
I was more careful, this time. I wanted those peppers, and I didn’t want to order them in glass jars, from Amazon. I tasted the pickling liquid. It was not too acid, and very sweet. There was also a mysterious, bushy, licorice scent to the liquor that made the peppers seem a bit exotic and spicy, rather than just sweet and hot.
The bleached-out seeds that speckled the dregs looked like fennel to me, though I compared them to dill and cumin, just to be sure. I created a tentative recipe, lowering my typical brine formula to just 4% salt, and using twice as much sugar as usual. Mama Lil’s slices still had more sweetness in the flesh, but I tabled work on that feature while I ate the initial results. Which were pretty spectacular, especially on sandwiches.
So what is a goat horn pepper? The interwebs, as randomly unreliable as ever, suggest that the goat horn is a variety of cayenne. But Mama Lil’s peppers looked shorter and thicker, like Hungarian wax peppers, only ripened to a fulsome, lipstick red instead of their usual pale yellow-green. Either way, I wouldn’t find any near me. But a couple of supermarket trips later, cello packs of peppers winsomely labeled Li’l Hotties appeared. They were a stoplight blend of red and green jalapenos and small, hot yellowish wax peppers, and I immediately thought – nice cheap Christmas presents.
Meanwhile, although Mama’s own home site was pretty coy about the original recipe, her resellers were as gabby as proud uncles. Mama Lil was from Abruzzi, her grandson makes the peppers, and the secret ingredients include fennel seed, garlic and maple syrup. I kicked myself for having missed the central Italian maple sugar season, but I did have some fresh bottles from the last one in Vermont. That, and the garlic, and the Li’l Hotties, do make a spectacular hot-sweet pickled pepper. You should be so lucky as to be on my cheap Christmas present list, but you can stock up for one of your own.
Papa’s Pickled Peppers
My take on Mama Lil's famous sweet-hot pickled peppers.
Slice off the stem ends of the chilis and remove the seed core. A clam or oyster knife is a great tool for the core removal. You don't have to purge every seed, but much of the heat is in the seeds and white pith.
Slice the chilis into rings about 3/8" wide. When you get down to the tip, slice in half. Add all ingredients to a medium saucepan. There should be just enough liquid to cover the chilis if you press down a bit. Don't add extra liquid - you'll have too much as is. Bring just to a boil over medium high heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt, then let cool.
Once cool enough to handle, lift out the chilis with a slotted spoon or similar device and pack into two clean, empty pint jars. Pour most of the liquid into a large measuring cup and distribute the remainder, with the fennel seed dregs, between the two jars. Top off the jars from the measuring cup, seal, and let cool completely or overnight. Unless you have sterilized the the jars and lids, store in the refrigerator. They will keep for many weeks.
Gratuities
This is a very close take on Mama Lil's original style pickled peppers. I was inspired to use the Christmas-colored pepper mix I ran into in the super, but the red ones turned out to be seriously hot. This was OK for my jaded palate, but if you want something like the distinctive "goat horn" peppers that Mama and her clan grow in Oregon, look for a fully ripe (i.e., red) Hungarian wax pepper. You might also check out red poblanos, anaheims and cubanelles, but they will be a bit milder and less fleshy.
Green jalapenos these days tend towards mildness, but the red ones have retained the old-fashioned heat I associate with Road Runner cartoons. I blame sriracha, which is mainly a red jalapeno paste. Maybe only the hot varietals are allowed to ripen.
You might be tempted to cut the peppers into slabs instead of rings, but resist. In slab form, you'll be biting crosswise through the skin. This is very distracting when you're trying to focus on a sandwich.
As a Responsible Adult, I have to tell you that pickles should be stored in the fridge unless the jars have been sterilized. As an observant eater who believes in acquired immunity, I have eaten pickles that have sat around in crocks on a counter for weeks, if not months. Walk your own path.
Ingredients
Directions
Slice off the stem ends of the chilis and remove the seed core. A clam or oyster knife is a great tool for the core removal. You don't have to purge every seed, but much of the heat is in the seeds and white pith.
Slice the chilis into rings about 3/8" wide. When you get down to the tip, slice in half. Add all ingredients to a medium saucepan. There should be just enough liquid to cover the chilis if you press down a bit. Don't add extra liquid - you'll have too much as is. Bring just to a boil over medium high heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt, then let cool.
Once cool enough to handle, lift out the chilis with a slotted spoon or similar device and pack into two clean, empty pint jars. Pour most of the liquid into a large measuring cup and distribute the remainder, with the fennel seed dregs, between the two jars. Top off the jars from the measuring cup, seal, and let cool completely or overnight. Unless you have sterilized the the jars and lids, store in the refrigerator. They will keep for many weeks.
Gratuities
This is a very close take on Mama Lil's original style pickled peppers. I was inspired to use the Christmas-colored pepper mix I ran into in the super, but the red ones turned out to be seriously hot. This was OK for my jaded palate, but if you want something like the distinctive "goat horn" peppers that Mama and her clan grow in Oregon, look for a fully ripe (i.e., red) Hungarian wax pepper. You might also check out red poblanos, anaheims and cubanelles, but they will be a bit milder and less fleshy.
Green jalapenos these days tend towards mildness, but the red ones have retained the old-fashioned heat I associate with Road Runner cartoons. I blame sriracha, which is mainly a red jalapeno paste. Maybe only the hot varietals are allowed to ripen.
You might be tempted to cut the peppers into slabs instead of rings, but resist. In slab form, you'll be biting crosswise through the skin. This is very distracting when you're trying to focus on a sandwich.
As a Responsible Adult, I have to tell you that pickles should be stored in the fridge unless the jars have been sterilized. As an observant eater who believes in acquired immunity, I have eaten pickles that have sat around in crocks on a counter for weeks, if not months. Walk your own path.