When basil gets into the kitchen, it can become truly demanding and unreasonable when it doesn’t receive the attention it commands. Add it to hot dishes too early and it loses its flavour. Try to dry it for later use and it shrinks into a tasteless heap. Use too much of it and basil’s strong taste can easily overwhelm other ingredients and become more irritating than enjoyable. And don’t even think about letting this leafy diva languish in the fridge for more than a couple days or its emerald-coloured plume of leaves will quickly shrivel up and turn to a brown-green mush. “You should have used me first,” basil seems to protest, “before cooking with all that parsley and thyme.”
I’ve learned the hard way that basil will settle for nothing less than centre stage when it appears in recipes but, like all talented performers, if you can tame its temperamental nature, the results are usually memorable.
The challenge is keeping the green princess happy so that she sings, rather than sulks, when she hits the plate. And that usually involves a strong chorus of ingredients to back her up. The Italians figured this out long ago when they invented pesto. The classic easy-to-make oil and herb sauce hails from the Ligurian coast of Italy. Its pungent cast of olive oil, garlic, pine nuts and parmesan cheese complement basil brilliantly.
I like making pesto (and its French cousin pistou) in late summer to use up the last big bunches of fresh basil from the garden and farmer’s markets. When frozen in small batches, pesto is great way to preserve basil’s allegro summer tang and keep this leading lady of the herb garden performing well into the early winter. I toss it with pasta, stir it into mashed potatoes, add big dollops of it to tomato-based soups and spoon it over vegetables that need a bit of kick. Last week, my latest batch of pesto starred in an easy mid-week dinner atop a heap of steamed fresh green beans served alongside grilled pork chops.
Pesto
4 cups packed fresh basil leaves, washed if needed, and roughly chopped
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted until golden and cooled
I’ve learned the hard way that basil will settle for nothing less than centre stage when it appears in recipes but, like all talented performers, if you can tame its temperamental nature, the results are usually memorable.
The challenge is keeping the green princess happy so that she sings, rather than sulks, when she hits the plate. And that usually involves a strong chorus of ingredients to back her up. The Italians figured this out long ago when they invented pesto. The classic easy-to-make oil and herb sauce hails from the Ligurian coast of Italy. Its pungent cast of olive oil, garlic, pine nuts and parmesan cheese complement basil brilliantly.
I like making pesto (and its French cousin pistou) in late summer to use up the last big bunches of fresh basil from the garden and farmer’s markets. When frozen in small batches, pesto is great way to preserve basil’s allegro summer tang and keep this leading lady of the herb garden performing well into the early winter. I toss it with pasta, stir it into mashed potatoes, add big dollops of it to tomato-based soups and spoon it over vegetables that need a bit of kick. Last week, my latest batch of pesto starred in an easy mid-week dinner atop a heap of steamed fresh green beans served alongside grilled pork chops.
Pesto
4 cups packed fresh basil leaves, washed if needed, and roughly chopped
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted until golden and cooled
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2-4 garlic cloves, minced1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
2-4 garlic cloves, minced1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
In a food processor, purée basil with garlic. Slowly add in the oil while the processor is running. (You may need to adjust the amount of oil depending on what consistency you like. Less oil will give you a chunkier sauce, more will give you a creamier version.) Add in pine nuts and Parmesan cheese. Process until smooth. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Note: Pesto can be made 2 days ahead and chilled covered, or frozen up to 2 to 3 months.
Note: Pesto can be made 2 days ahead and chilled covered, or frozen up to 2 to 3 months.
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