Pesto by Hand

A family friend's garden plot has been experiencing, well—late summer. After The Tragic Basil Attempt earlier this summer, where a perfectly healthy-looking basil start basically died the day it was set it upon the balcony, I was practically drooling at what seemed like miles of my friend's garden's towering basil plants. I mentioned that I could uh, "take some off his hands" (you know, help out?) and received waaayyyy more than I expected. Okay go pesto go!


I have made pesto a number of times, at home as well as in restaurants, but I wanted to try something more intimate than tossing things into my blender (or in most cases, a food processor) and drizzling olive oil through the lid. This method creates a paste-like consistency that is perfect for spreading on a turkey sandwich, or thoroughly dousing a salad. However, while I like eating pesto with a spoon out of the jar (like peanut butter...but um...never mind) as much as the next lazy cook, I wanted something with rustic punch and texture.

I researched a bit and enjoyed reading Heidi Swanson's Italian grandmother method. That's where I started, and here is where I went.

Disclaimer: I am not Italian, nor do I intend to become Italian. I prefer walnuts to pine nuts, and so have substituted them here. Do as you like, by all means.

Tool recommendations: a sharp, slightly rockered knife like a Santoku. At least, mine is fairly rockered. As a line cook I was gifted a blonde Wasabi many years ago by the sous chef at the time, and have grown to be rather attached to it. Of course, whatever you are quickest with is obviously the best!

Pesto By Hand

Ingredients

• 100 g (about one large bunch) fresh basil leaves
• 25 g (about 1/4 c.) shaved Parmesan
• 25 g (about 1/4 c.) raw walnuts
• 3 large cloves garlic
• extra-virgin olive oil
• freshly squeezed lemon juice
• kosher salt

Method

1. Begin by bruising your garlic with your knife—turn knife horizontally and place your palm carefully upon the blade, then whack the clove. This will make it easy to remove skins. Plus, it's therapeutic. Chop garlic into a few pieces. Nothing fancy.
2. Take approximately 1/3 basil, all the garlic, and a light sprinkle of salt (go easy—the cheese will be salty) on a large cutting board. The salt facilitates bruising of the basil.
3. Chop vigorously. This is not a quick-fix process, but I hope you get into the zen of chopping. Don't laugh, it's a real thing. Just don't close your eyes, please.
4. Add cheese and nuts and the second 1/3 basil leaves. At this point, add another small amount of salt and a splash of olive oil.
5. Continue chopping with love.
6. When leaves are manageably-sized again, add the final 1/3 amount of basil, more salt (careful here, it's easy to over-salt!) and more oil, and a small amount of lemon. This will depend on your tastes. I only used about 3/4 tsp. If you overdo the salt, add more lemon.
7. Continue chopping until blended and finely chopped. More oil will make it easier and more delicious. It is up to you at this point to fine-tune the seasoning and the texture.
8. Basil oxidizes rapidly. To prevent, you may pour some oil on top of a tightly packed container, cover with wax paper, plastic wrap, or best yet, just eat it quickly. Mmm!