Photograph by Skip Lombardi

It was in Providence, Rhode Island, sometime in the mid-1980′s, that I first encountered cherry pepper shooters. These provocatively named antipasti are Italian-American concoctions: the classic is a cube of aged provolone cheese wrapped in a slice of prosciutto and stuffed into a pickled cherry pepper.

As American as the Sopranos, these two-bite treats are not without antecedents in the cuisine of Italy’s Mezzogiorno. Abruzzese, Pugliese, Campagnese, and Calabrese grew cherry peppers, pickled them, and stuffed them with a mixture of preserved tuna, anchovies, and breadcrumbs before submerging them in olive oil—a treatment still prevalent today. I’ve found several references to il pranzo della contadina, the farmer’s lunch, that include peperoncini ripieni, stuffed cherry peppers.

Until recently, how the Italian-American stuffed peppers had come to be called shooters was a mystery to me. Like Jello-shots, oyster shooters, and jalapeño poppers, a cherry pepper stuffed with both provolone and prosciutto—two seductively salty, rich, and pricey ingredients—projects a certain gastronomic swagger, especially if the pepper itself packs any heat. So, by association, anyone downing something like this in a couple of fast bites also radiates the same bravado. It’s a little bit like lighting a cigar with a five-dollar bill…

In fact, if I had to think of the archetypical consumer of anything called “a shooter,” it would be that loud guy who crashed my last Superbowl party, or one of the bachelorettes with whom you go to Vegas every year.

But I am now confident that I have found the actual origin of the term. During my research, I phoned Daniele Foods, a Rhode Island producer of fine Italian deli products. (They cure their own prosciutto and make stuffed cherry pepper shooters carried by salumerie across North America.) Daniele’s Director of Marketing was personable, though apologetic, when she said they had absolutely no idea where the term ‘cherry pepper shooters’ had originated.

Disappointed, I continued to scrutinize myriad Italian and American websites, eventually returning to Daniele’s own pages. And right there, hiding in plain sight on their Corporate History page, was the story of Daniele’s founder who, back in 1977, discovered that

And there I had it. It wasn’t a linguistic leap to get to ‘pro-SHOOT,’ the pronunciation favored by Americans of southern Italian heritage who often drop the final syllable of a word in their dialects. ‘Pro-shoot’ fits the same profile as ‘mooza-REL,’ ‘provo-LOHN’ and ‘min-e-STROHN.’

I’ll wager that it didn’t take long for ‘proshoot’ to become ‘shooter.’ Once again, se non è vero, è ben trovato.

Nothing about cherry pepper shooters is subtle, and perhaps that explains their tremendous popularity. Invented here, they are a legitimate component of any antipasto platter, as welcome at your next party as your (or my) Cousin Vinnie.

Cherry Pepper Shooters

Ingredients:

12 – 16 Marinated cherry peppers
1/2 Lb. Sharp Provolone cheese
4 – 6 Slices prosciutto (approximately 1/8 Lb.)
Olive Oil
1 Large clove garlic, peeled and sliced

Preparation:

Rinse the cherry peppers under running water. With a paring knife, remove the stems. Using a melon-baller, or grapefruit knife, remove the seeds and ribs.

Cut the provolone into cubes small enough to fit into the cherry peppers. Wrap each piece of cheese with a thin ribbon of prosciutto. Stuff one into each pepper.

Place the peppers in a clean glass jar, distributing the garlic as you go. Fill the jar with enough olive oil to cover the peppers. Let sit, refrigerated, overnight before serving.

Use the shooters within one week. The remaining oil will be a delicious addition to any salad.

Serve shooters at room temperature with lemon wedges.