Pesto

It would be nice if there was always a jar of homemade pesto sitting in the fridge… or sitting on the table.

pesto-on-table

A jar of the deliciously green amalgam of basil, pine-nuts, pecorino sardo, garlic and extra virgin olive oil waiting patiently to lend it’s aromatic deliciousness to everything it touches. A generous spoonful stirred into some linguine or trofie,  a dollop in a bowl of summer minestrone, a little with some warm lentils or as topping on a steaming baked potato……dribbled over some warm grilled vegetables, perking up a bruschetta…….

Of course we don’t always have a jar of homemade pesto in the fridge.

I have been thinking alot about pesto recently, so much so, that I was beginning to believe I had actually made some, a bit like when you tell a little fib so many times it starts to feel true. I know what started my pesto daydreams, it was this nice little film – go and watch it and then come back and you tell me you don’t want to make and then eat some pesto.

I really like it when I get a real food bee in my bonnet, an idea, something you really really want to make buzzing around in your head, distracting you from from other much more mundane tasks. Inspired by the film, food bee buzzing and with long weekend time on our hands we decided it was about time we made pesto. Then, I decided that Vincenzo should try making it in the pestle and mortar,after all his drummers arms are much more adapted to all that pounding. We struck a kitchen deal, I would do the shopping and washing -up, he would pound.

Whilst buying the basil at the market Vincenzo - the other one my fruttivendolo – showed me something quite wonderful. He picked a tiny delicate basil leaf from its stalk and rubbed it between his fingers, the delicate little thing dissolved into green paste and released the most extraordinarily powerful aroma. Then he took a handsome but larger more fibrous leaf and rubbed it between his big fingers, not alot happened, the big leaf remained pretty much in tact, maybe a little bruised releasing a wonderful but rather more modest scent. ‘That‘ explained Vincenzo ‘is why you need to pick the smaller more delicate leaves for pesto. Tiny sweet basil leaves like those found in Liguria, delicate, without dense thick fibres, more highly scented than their larger relatives, leaves which willingly crush, dissolve almost, into a more sublime and smoother pesto.

pinenuts

3 bunches of basil, some nutty, waxy pine-nuts, a bottle of mild, minerally Ligurian olive oil and a piece of Pecorino Sardo, two Gin and Tonic’s and Dr John’s let the good times roll on repeat, we were off.

I have used several recipes over the last few years, flirting unfaithfully with them all until I found one I wanted to settle down with for a while and more importantly, a recipe which really worked. The recipe in question is Giorgio Locatelli‘s one from Italian Food, producing a beautifully well balanced and fragrant pesto- just a little garlic and the right amount of cheese for my liking-. I usually make this recipe with the hand blender but it is also well suited to a more traditional, labour intensive pestle and mortar treatment.

pesto-new

Making pesto with pestle and mortar is a little labour of love. No brurr, brurr, hurhh of the electric blender here, this is a slow, deep, thwock, pound and twist of a recipe. First the pine nuts and salt, ground into a fine, dry but almost creamy flour in the mortar. Next the garlic, gently pound and pummel it into the coarse pine nut flour. Now the washed and dried basil leaves, drop them in a few at a time and work them into a paste as quickly as you can and then go a little dizzy as the pervasive scent of basil whirls around your nostrils. Now add the cheese and the oil gently stirring until you have a bright green paste.

How long did it take ? Quite a while…..I seem to remember.. although the gin and tonic, longweekendness and fact I was merely observing, it made it a very pleasurable while. Was it worth it ? Well, it was some of the nicest, deliciously basily, fragrant pesto I have ever eaten – I know I am biased.

We ate some stirred into some fresh Linguine cooked with fine green beans and matchsticks of potato.

linguine-with-pesto

This could become a habit.

Pesto

makes a small jar

Adapted from Giorgio Locatelli’s recipe in his book Made in Italy

  • 2 cloves of garlic peeled
  • 2 Tbsp of pine kernels
  • 250g fresh, small, sweet basil leaves. Washed and gently, gently dried.
  • 3 tbsp freshly grated pecorino or Parmesan
  • 250ml extra virgin olive oil – preferably Ligurian or another lighter, softer, minerally oil.
  • tiny pinch of salt

Either in a food processor with a sharp blade or using a pestle and mortar grind and crush the pine-nuts and salt into fine flour. Add the garlic and pummel into the flour.

Drop in the basil leaves a few at a time and work them in as quickly as you can.

Add the cheese and then finally the oil, stirring until you have a bright green paste.

The quicker you work, the less heat you generate and therefore the brighter the green of the pesto will be.

Pesto will keep in the fridge for about 6 months if you top each jar up with a thick layer of oil.

14 Comments

Filed under food, recipes, sauces, Uncategorized

14 responses to “Pesto

  1. That is the best movie I’ve ever seen. I want to watch it over and over, with popcorn, and maybe nominate the chef for an Oscar. You have totally inspired me with the pesto.

  2. So that’s the secret to making pesto in a mortar, baby leaves!

    As soon as our little plants get going I’m going to fix myself a gin and tonic and put my husband to work. Great idea:)

  3. Oh, gasp! Pesto made in a mortar!? What heart! How inspired! I never imagined it was possible. Looks like I can finally justify adding another kitchen gadget to my cannon. I can’t wait to try this!

  4. I love your relationship to pesto – I feel the exact same way. And, a plate of pesto is not complete if not served with beans and potatoes. When I was visiting Vernazza in Liguria, I ate lasagna made in the same fashion. Do I even need to say how good it was? I love your blog, and your photos are beautiful. Can’t wait to read more!

  5. I was totally charmed by listening to the chef speak with such respect, passion and obvious love for his ingredients and cooking.

    Thanks for sharing.

  6. see THAT”S what i did wrong when i made my pesto in the mortar – i forgot the booze! oh, and the dr john too. it really was a (you said it way too nice) “labor of love”, but it was a great experiment and it does taste a bit better than whizzing it in a machine. it’s still not warm enough here for basil galore – but soon!

  7. Pingback: Goats cheese, pea and lentil salad with pesto. « rachel eats

  8. my architect’s arms would do the job nicely. so when the basil is ready, i’ve got the italian pignoli’s, the ligurian oil and the cheese…

    i was one of the earliest viewers of this video. i forgot how it came to me. but it has never left my mind…

  9. I just finished making my first jar of pesto…with mortar and pestle! Lightly toasting the pine nuts and adding a bit of lemon zest were my only variations. Thank you for the inspiration!

  10. My mom has made homemade pesto this way ever since I can remember.. I wasn’t sure what other way there was to make it, until I saw someone using a blender! It should be illegal! :)
    -Sylvia

  11. Pingback: About time | rachel eats

  12. Julia

    Hi there just found your blog while considering pesto options for using up Christmas leftovers of bunches of parsley and basil (the joys of Australia’s summer Christmas!)…. anyway, to the point: the link to the ‘little film’ is no longer active, which won’t stop me making pesto but leaves me curious and compelled to write and let you know!
    Enjoying your blog, thanks!

  13. Pingback: Recipes to Try | Live and Learn

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