Epilogue. the first dab of pesto-boated pasta momentarily blurred my sanity and had me ascending to a safe psychedelic haven, I never knew I could make it, but I did. Thank God.
I think it’s wonderful to make two varieties of pesto to see how one is, based on personal preferences, better than the other. The thing with cooking is that you are sovereign over your domain, no one touches anything unless you let them to, and from the cook’s end of cooking, as a young cook at heart, I’ve learned a few things that can make it interesting:
- You can always make things better, you know what you want and how you want it, now what you need to do is to make it, and with a degree of control, you can.
- You are in control of everything, the taste, the aroma, the color, the entire experience, and through that you can share a part of your passion to those who will eat.
- You learn a new things from trying what isn’t in the recipe. I mean recipes are there, yeah, to guide you, but you will always have a leeway an a margin to work on to make it more personal and hearty, yeah, the word is hearty even if it has a lot of fat in it.
There I was, wanting to make a legitimate pesto for the first time because some people told me they are fond of pesto, (I think I’m that easy of a giver in some cases, so easy that hings can be just a nudge away); I bought the ingredients, just three for the pesto:
- Fresh Parsley
- Olive Oil
- Pasta (I used this flatter kind of spaghetti, it’s not flat enough to be called fettuccine but not round enough for spaghetti)
You might also need the following:
- Your good arm and a good grip
- A good chopping board
- A cleaver (a less sharp one can bring out more juice from the parsley as it does to onions, and this time you want more juice)
Here’s to Pesto:
1. Leave the parsley (this is one of those times when I use a noun as a verbm e.g. Core the apples), like get the leaves, include the small stalks but do not include the bigger stalks – the more mature ones – then put it in a strainer. Bathe them in cold water to make them stand on end (you cannot see this but you can feel it, they stiffen a bit because their souls have been awakened, but don’t worry, their souls are simply auras, their feelings are triggered not by the physical but by the auras of what surrounds them, that means being chopped won’t hurt them but at least try to be happy when chopping them), afterwards chop them like how Manny Pacquiao sends his fist on air – continuous, seamless, and very sharp – I recommend you use a cleaver because that’s what I use, the effort is raising it but landing it on the chopping boards it already up to its weight.
2. Now place all chopped parsley in a bowl and pour olive oil on it, for batch one I made a submerged type of pesto with about a 3-cm layer of olive oil on top of the parsley, this is useful for mixing in pasta or rice because you get it with some olive oil to mix in with your base (pasta or rice), for the next batch (which I made about 1 or 2 weeks later) I only used enough olive for it to be pasty, the chopped parsley isn’t submerged, just mixed, this is useful for bread, but I also used it for rice and pasta, I just had to drizzle some more oil while mixing.
It’s a pretty simple no-cook recipe that lasts for about a week when refrigerated. At times I add it while sauteing cooked pasta so it gets a bit cooked but sometimes I just add it raw on cooked pasta without sauteing. your choice. The sauce/paste is unsalted by default, I prefer adding the salt on before/as I eat, you know, just in case someone wants to taste my pesto without salt because I kinda make it for sharing too.