Peter Piper may have picked a peck of pickled peppers, but he had nothing on Mama Lil’s

Gourmet food lovers in the Pacific Northwest know the name Mama Lil’s Peppers.

The company began in 1992, when Howard Lev made his first commercial batch of pickled Hungarian goat horn peppers in the kitchen of the University Unitarian Church in Seattle's Wedgwood neighborhood. The mama in question is Lev's mother, Lillian. Using her recipe, he began selling the canned peppers in oil at farmers markets.

Now, nearly 40 years and hundreds of thousands of jars later, he's out with a memoir. It's called "A Pepper for Your Thoughts: How NOT to Start a Gourmet Foods Business."

Lev talked to KUOW’s Kim Malcolm about the book and the beloved peppers.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Kim Malcolm, tasting some peppers: Oh, these are delicious. They're tangy. They've got a heat to them. But it's not overpowering, and you just want to eat more.

You grew up with these peppers in Youngstown, Ohio, at home and at local Italian restaurants. You write very sweetly about that time and place in your book. Why were peppers and oil a thing in Youngstown?

Howard Lev: It's because in Youngstown, the Italians, especially the Italians who had all the restaurants, were all Abruzzo Italians, from the towns of Sulmona and L'Aquila. In Pittsburgh and Cleveland, which are very close to Youngstown, these peppers didn't exist because there were lots of Italians there, but none, or very few, from the Abruzzo region.

So, just a critical mass of people from one tiny region is the reason?

Absolutely. Everybody in Youngstown made the peppers. My uncle Irv made the peppers. Many of my mother's friends made the peppers. But my mother, she didn't really eat them herself. She gave them away to people, especially to her family.

Do you remember when the thought first came to you, that I should make these peppers like my mom did, and then sell them?

Oh, yeah, but I don't think I can talk about it.

Why not?

A friend of mine had come over to my house. He had never had them before, and he brought along some magic mushrooms. This was back in 1986. I had these next-door neighbors who had a rock band. We were eating these. I didn't even know what they were, and he had complained about how bitter they were. And I brought out a jar of my mother's peppers. It was the solstice, and suddenly, we started getting very high, and my neighbor's music got louder and louder.

In the meantime, my friend said, "I need more peppers." We had eaten two jars. He said, "Bring me another jar." I said, "My mother won't send me more peppers for another three or four months!" Then he said, "Then we've got to make them. And by the way, these guys next door are great" That was when I realized that maybe we should make these peppers. It was also the night that I realized that Soundgarden kicked butt.

You mean, Soundgarden were your neighbors?

Yeah, we shared a common lawn together.

You went on from there. You detail the ups and downs in your book, lots of both. You talk about your parents quite a bit in the book. And of course, the company is named after your mother. What do you think they would make of where you are right now and how the company is doing?

Oh, they'd love it. I think my mother's truly enjoying it now. As I say in the book, people have asked me over the years, what's the secret of success in the food business? And I told them, "Name your business after your mother, just in case there's an afterlife." You might get lucky, you might get blessed.

Listen to the interview by clicking the play button above.