Pesto made and snapped by me. It is in a flavour-league all of its own.
I absolutely advocate shortcuts in family life. There is so much general friction just in getting out the door every day that if I can cut corners without compromising the end result too much then I’m all for it. I sometimes shake may head in numb disbelief at how much time of my life I spend just mechanically loading and unloading the dishwasher multiple times a day, scrubbing pots, emptying potties and picking peas up off the floor. It is hard to cook wholesome food that doesn’t generate lots of prep and clearing up etc. so, since I really am committed to wholesome food, I need to make it count and I need to know that nutritionally, my meal is going to blow the doors off to make it worth it. Pesto is one of those things that can vary in quality hugely. We’ve all fallen upon the odd jar of Sacla in our hour of need but I must say that I always feel underwhelmed and kind of disappointed after I’ve eaten it. It’s basically fast food masquerading as proper food. No aroma, no depth, cloying, too much acidity, and most probably very limited nutritional value. It is all about balance – would it be easier to just open a jar? Yes. Would it taste as good? No. Would it be as good value both nutritionally and economically? No. Too much of a compromise for me in that case.
One thing that makes me feel not so much old as very different from the childless segment of the population born after 1985 is their complete obliviousness to the fact that there will most likely come a day when you will have to put yourself last. It’s like a baptism of your own when you have kids. A watershed moment after which nothing is ever the same. You can’t unbreak eggs, just as you can’t unknow parental responsibility and love. I am a bit obsessed with those turning points in life that give you a sort of shell shock. It’s like the Gayle Forman quote:
“We are born in one day. We die in one day. We can change in one day. And we can fall in love in one day. Anything can happen in just one day.”
It’s like losing your virginity – you can’t imagine it will ever happen, and then suddenly you are on the other side of it and one of the initiated. At first you look around you, and at your parents and your neighbours and teachers and think “they all do this weird thing, it’s so weird!” The same temporal jump happened with all the crucial watersheds, school exams and then Finals, your driving test. It is that mind-blowing notion that you graduate to new dimensions of experience /achievement. When my mum died I just suddenly felt the door opening and shutting and and a cool realization that I had had scales on my eyes, that I was ignorant to so much, to what so many people deal with in their lives every day. I felt small. I actually felt dumb, I felt I had barely scratched the surface of life and what its purpose is. I became aware that I had seen, like a pre-enlightenment citizen, my world as flat, as mostly sunshine and light, with my concerns only stretching as far as my own eye could see, when in reality the world is spherical, riddled with hidden depths, dazzling light as well as the darkest shadow. It makes you realign your priorities, painfully reinvent yourself, give less of a damn and generally shake off much time-wasting and dithering. Death when it strikes close can prompt you to finally eliminate the chaff, be it badly written books from your bedside table, destructive relationships, clutter, with no guilt. One of the best blogposts I ever read was this one. I think it captures what happens as you feel more comfortable in yourself as you age.
Pesto can be chopped finely by hand, crushed in a pestle and mortar or, if you’re usually rushing like me, whizzed up in a chopper.
I know that by this logic you think I am going to advocate shop-bought pesto, and yes every now and again it is fine. In actual fact I have struck a compromise in terms of time and taste which I will share with you now, but if you really hate me and I’m making you feel guilty and inferior I apologise and suggest you compromise, if you can afford it and get your mitts on some of this: Giovanni’s hand made pesto from Seriously Italian. (£3.50 a jar which seems extravagant but a family of 4 could eat a whole pasta meal with one jar, so a bargain really). My recipe makes about 3 times that amount and whatever I don’t use first time round I leave in the jar, levelling the top with a spoon and cover with olive oil to seal it from the air and it will keep easily for a week in the fridge.
I know you can invest in a mezza-luna knife and board or just be awesome with your knife skills, but I’ll take shortcuts on time not flavour by using the chopper attachment to my hand blender and it works a dream. This one right here.
Natalie's Kid-Friendly Nutrition-Bomb Pesto. Also known as 7 minute Pesto.
With the exception of the basil which makes up the lions share of the herbs and remains the quantity specified below, I mix the ratios of the other herbs to vary the flavour. All herbs must be fresh, the quantities I specify assume they have been de-stalked (leaves only).
Ingredients
- 100g bag basil
- cupped handful flat leaf parsley leaves
- cupped handful mint leaves (OR cupped handful coriander leaves OR rocket)
- 4 stems-worth sage (OR 4 stems-worth oregano)
- small clutch chives chopped in half to reduce length
- 1 medium garlic clove, peeled
- 30g pine nuts (toasted for extra depth of flavour only f you wish)
- 20g flaked almonds (toasted if you wish, I normally don't bother)
- 4 heaped tablespoons freshly grated parmesan
- half tsp (Himalayan) salt
- pinch freshly ground pepper
- half tsp fresh lemon juice
- 75ml extra virgin olive oil
Instructions
- Wash and de-stem and pat dry all the herbs in the combination you have chosen to use. Grate your Parmigiano cheese and tip all the ingredients listed above in to you chopper except the liquids and salt. Blast until finely chopped. Then add salt, pepper and liquids. Blitz again, remove blade, stir with a spatula to ensure optimum mixing and then reinsert blade, blitz one last time till aromatic and emulsified and glossy. The aroma should blow your mind when you take the lid off.
Use over pasta, on fish or spread lightly to cheer up sandwiches. My kids have recently demanded the Italian Flag of pasta: half pesto half tomato sauce. Funny how they’ll pick basil leaves out of their red sauce if I don’t blend it up after cooking, but they’ll woof down vast quantities of green in this way. Their reasoning defies logic.
Now all that’s left is for us to pretend it is Italy, 1960 in a Ligurian Lido, maybe San Remo … and you’re sitting down to a supper lit with golden evening light, Dinah Washington playing in the back ground. That is why dear Emily (!) I make my own pesto: a jar of mass-produced green paste will never capture my imagination, the fragments of human experience. Taste and aroma are what childhood memories are forged from. Now enjoy your pesto while listening to What a Difference a Day Makes.
Made this pesto tonight and won’t be able to use the back of a spoon to flatten the top before covering it in olive oil because we ate it all up. I packed it full of all the parched herbs from my window boxes and it was divine. The mint especially! Am making your kale salad next. I love the detail in your writing and your recipe instructions. Keep the posts coming!
Why thank you! I made a great salad today, am about to upload it too!
Inspired to try this Natalie! Will report back.x