Now that basil flourishes in my garden, releasing its heady fragrance at the touch and making a grand gesture of sliced tomatoes or the simplest of pasta dishes, I am reminded to put up some jars of pesto for the winter.
No sooner are we in mid-summer swing in our short growing season than fall and an unexpected frost are right around the corner. Basil is the tenderest of plants; its leaves will blacken at the first nip of frost. A year’s supply of this most delectable herb can be lost in a twinkling of an eye to the first cold snap, while we are too busy harvesting everything else in the garden.
The aromatic pungency of basil is distinctly Mediterranean—its flavor and fragrance take us on a Roman holiday. Basil is the queen of global gourmet, tasting dramatically of summer’s heat--a fine match for other southern European imports like tomato and pasta.
Pesto comes from the Italian, meaning to pound, or crush. Known since Roman times, this pungent sauce of crushed herbs, garlic and oil originated in the Genoese countryside, where a particularly intense basil grows wild. The addition of cheese and nuts is a regional variation. (Commercially prepared pesto generally contains both.) A version called pistou made simply with basil, garlic and oil comes from Provence, where it is used to flavor the hearty vegetable soups which are a specialty of that region.
Pesto is traditionally made by crushing the herbs and garlic in small batches with a mortar and pestle; a food processor makes the job easier, though purists would say that the mortar and pestle bring out more flavor. The herbs and garlic are chopped finely in the processor, then oil is added in a thin stream with the motor running until blended to a smooth paste. Cheese, nuts or other flavorings are added last.
Several years ago I began thinking about what herbs and greens more suited to our northern climate could be preserved pesto-style in oil to liven up our winter fare of bean soups, stews, and roasted root vegetables. At this stage in my life I am more interested in native-ness than novelty. I no longer want to spend time pampering plants that are--however attractive—out of place in our climate and food culture. Nothing about basil relates to the scents or tastes of the North; Basil and balsam? Basil and venison? Basil and potato? --quite incongruous!
Here is my short list of alternatives to basil for pesto making:
Over the years I have grown to appreciate parsley for its vigor, versatility, and year-round ability to make simple foods special. Its sweet-sour flavor is enhanced by garlic and goes beautifully with traditional New England food, from venison to braised cabbage and corn salad. I have harvested parsley from under the snow in December, and if I had to grow only one herb, this would be it. While I still preserve basil for winter pastas, I keep a jar of parsley pesto always at hand. My favorite variety this year is Gigante d’Italia, a flat-leaved Italian heirloom with an unusual sweetness (from Fedco Seeds).
Kale, Swiss chard, and arugula (rocket) thrive in our cool fall temperatures and also make delicious pesto. Kale and chard should be cooked before processing. I use chard pesto as a sauce for roasted beets. Spicy arugula can be combined with basil, walnuts, garlic and lemon juice for an interestingly different sauce. Try a pesto made with mint, garlic, pine nuts and lemon juice with crumbled goat cheese and lamb.
Basic Parsley Pesto made with garlic and oil is my kitchen essential; great as a base for salad dressings, sauces, or brushed on grilled meats and fish. A dollop of it will enliven any soup. Nuts or cheese can be added to the basic recipe even after the mixture has been frozen and thawed.
2 cups packed parsley leaves, washed and dried
4 large garlic cloves, peeled, green centers removed (or to taste)
½ -1 cup good quality olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
Freshly squeezed lemon juice (optional)
Using the steel blade in the processor, drop garlic cloves into the bowl with the motor running to finely chop garlic. Add the parsley leaves and continue to process until they are chopped fine. Add oil in a thin stream until the pesto has reached a desired consistency (thinner, if adding cheese or nuts). Taste, and add salt and pepper, or a dash of fresh lemon juice for more zest.
Kale Pesto made from Tuscan kale (cavolo nero) has a distinct flavor, delicious as a spread on hearty bread, or an enrichment to bean and vegetable soup. I grow Tuscan kale just for this purpose. Kale, cabbage or Swiss chard may also be used in this recipe. Kale is tougher and may need more cooking; cabbage produces a more delicately flavored pesto.
1 lb Tuscan kale, kale, Swiss chard or ½ cabbage
3/4 tsp coarse sea salt
2 garlic cloves
½ cup or more extra virgin olive oil
Carefully wash the kale, chard or cabbage in a sinkful of warm water. Remove the tough central ribs of kale or chard and the core of cabbage. If using cabbage, cut the head into chunks.
Steam the greens or cabbage for 10 or 15 minutes or until tender. Kale will take longer to cook than cabbage. Refresh briefly in chilled water, and drain and squeeze to remove all excess moisture.
Puree the vegetable, garlic, oil and salt in the food processor to form a smooth, stiff paste. Store in the refrigerator in a glass jar, covered with a layer of oil, where it will keep for a week or more.
Note: Pesto can be stored in the fridge for up to four weeks (herb pestos last longer refrigerated than cooked vegetable versions), and frozen for up to one year. I use small mason jars for freezing. When pesto is exposed to the air a natural enzymatic action will cause it to darken. This discoloration does not indicate spoilage. Top pesto with olive oil as you use it to prevent air from discoloring the pesto.
No sooner are we in mid-summer swing in our short growing season than fall and an unexpected frost are right around the corner. Basil is the tenderest of plants; its leaves will blacken at the first nip of frost. A year’s supply of this most delectable herb can be lost in a twinkling of an eye to the first cold snap, while we are too busy harvesting everything else in the garden.
The aromatic pungency of basil is distinctly Mediterranean—its flavor and fragrance take us on a Roman holiday. Basil is the queen of global gourmet, tasting dramatically of summer’s heat--a fine match for other southern European imports like tomato and pasta.
Pesto comes from the Italian, meaning to pound, or crush. Known since Roman times, this pungent sauce of crushed herbs, garlic and oil originated in the Genoese countryside, where a particularly intense basil grows wild. The addition of cheese and nuts is a regional variation. (Commercially prepared pesto generally contains both.) A version called pistou made simply with basil, garlic and oil comes from Provence, where it is used to flavor the hearty vegetable soups which are a specialty of that region.
Pesto is traditionally made by crushing the herbs and garlic in small batches with a mortar and pestle; a food processor makes the job easier, though purists would say that the mortar and pestle bring out more flavor. The herbs and garlic are chopped finely in the processor, then oil is added in a thin stream with the motor running until blended to a smooth paste. Cheese, nuts or other flavorings are added last.
Several years ago I began thinking about what herbs and greens more suited to our northern climate could be preserved pesto-style in oil to liven up our winter fare of bean soups, stews, and roasted root vegetables. At this stage in my life I am more interested in native-ness than novelty. I no longer want to spend time pampering plants that are--however attractive—out of place in our climate and food culture. Nothing about basil relates to the scents or tastes of the North; Basil and balsam? Basil and venison? Basil and potato? --quite incongruous!
Here is my short list of alternatives to basil for pesto making:
Over the years I have grown to appreciate parsley for its vigor, versatility, and year-round ability to make simple foods special. Its sweet-sour flavor is enhanced by garlic and goes beautifully with traditional New England food, from venison to braised cabbage and corn salad. I have harvested parsley from under the snow in December, and if I had to grow only one herb, this would be it. While I still preserve basil for winter pastas, I keep a jar of parsley pesto always at hand. My favorite variety this year is Gigante d’Italia, a flat-leaved Italian heirloom with an unusual sweetness (from Fedco Seeds).
Kale, Swiss chard, and arugula (rocket) thrive in our cool fall temperatures and also make delicious pesto. Kale and chard should be cooked before processing. I use chard pesto as a sauce for roasted beets. Spicy arugula can be combined with basil, walnuts, garlic and lemon juice for an interestingly different sauce. Try a pesto made with mint, garlic, pine nuts and lemon juice with crumbled goat cheese and lamb.
Basic Parsley Pesto made with garlic and oil is my kitchen essential; great as a base for salad dressings, sauces, or brushed on grilled meats and fish. A dollop of it will enliven any soup. Nuts or cheese can be added to the basic recipe even after the mixture has been frozen and thawed.
2 cups packed parsley leaves, washed and dried
4 large garlic cloves, peeled, green centers removed (or to taste)
½ -1 cup good quality olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
Freshly squeezed lemon juice (optional)
Using the steel blade in the processor, drop garlic cloves into the bowl with the motor running to finely chop garlic. Add the parsley leaves and continue to process until they are chopped fine. Add oil in a thin stream until the pesto has reached a desired consistency (thinner, if adding cheese or nuts). Taste, and add salt and pepper, or a dash of fresh lemon juice for more zest.
Kale Pesto made from Tuscan kale (cavolo nero) has a distinct flavor, delicious as a spread on hearty bread, or an enrichment to bean and vegetable soup. I grow Tuscan kale just for this purpose. Kale, cabbage or Swiss chard may also be used in this recipe. Kale is tougher and may need more cooking; cabbage produces a more delicately flavored pesto.
1 lb Tuscan kale, kale, Swiss chard or ½ cabbage
3/4 tsp coarse sea salt
2 garlic cloves
½ cup or more extra virgin olive oil
Carefully wash the kale, chard or cabbage in a sinkful of warm water. Remove the tough central ribs of kale or chard and the core of cabbage. If using cabbage, cut the head into chunks.
Steam the greens or cabbage for 10 or 15 minutes or until tender. Kale will take longer to cook than cabbage. Refresh briefly in chilled water, and drain and squeeze to remove all excess moisture.
Puree the vegetable, garlic, oil and salt in the food processor to form a smooth, stiff paste. Store in the refrigerator in a glass jar, covered with a layer of oil, where it will keep for a week or more.
Note: Pesto can be stored in the fridge for up to four weeks (herb pestos last longer refrigerated than cooked vegetable versions), and frozen for up to one year. I use small mason jars for freezing. When pesto is exposed to the air a natural enzymatic action will cause it to darken. This discoloration does not indicate spoilage. Top pesto with olive oil as you use it to prevent air from discoloring the pesto.
