on Peppers — John Znidarsic

Here’s the thing. When we were all cruising around 2019 completely oblivious that our entire world was about to come to a screeching halt I’m not sure I could’ve answered the question At what age does one start canning Hungarian hot peppers? Turns out its 41.

It’s hard not to start in Warren, Ohio. I mean, that’s where the recipe came from. It’s also that lawless place where five of my buddies either hail from or have married into. Things are different in Warren.

But, if you’re drinking Crown in the ITAM at 7:00 a.m. after a workout at the Y at five, there’s a better than average chance there are some peppers out. Someone passes from “a touch of the Leukemia,” you’re goddamn right there are going to be peppers at the wake. You got the famous 422s or Chicago Frank’s peppers. And, you’ve got the old guys - the dads of my golf trip who’ve been doing golf trips longer than my crew has been alive. First-class peppers. Plenty of prominent players.

So, amidst the toilet paper hoarding and impending doom of the Fall surge we decided to pile into a low-ceiling University Heights basement and throw our hat in the ring.

“Choose your job wisely. It’s yours for the next 30 years.”

Here’s the thing about canning peppers: it’s both a lot of work and not a lot of work. And, that might be what makes it great. You have periods of frenetic beehive activity followed by longer stretches of kicking back and stretching your legs. A little homemade wine. Some bread. Sample the product. There’s no rush. It’s a gentleman’s game.

Year one they were salty - dropped in the Atlantic salty - but crisp with an appropriate heat. This year we cut back the salt and added freshly minced garlic. We’ll see how the product turns out.

We also added a guy. We’re five now. Got aprons and everything.

More salt early. Cut the day between salting and canning. Freshly minced garlic is a winner. Add another bushel. It’s all in the ledger.

We’re coming after you, Chicago Frank.