Pasta Pesto

I am reliably informed that, before my sister moved in, my recently-acquired brother-in-law ate pasta and pesto every night for dinner. I'm taking that as in indication that it is the quintessential single person food, and hence a massive omission from this blog.

Pasta with a spoonful of pesto stirred through is now so mainstream that the word "and" can safely be elided from its title without any confusion. But it's not exactly a recipe, it is? Hardly worthy of a blog post, and somehow unrewarding: no achievement, no nourishment, a vegetable oil lake left at the bottom of the bowl.

Having recently returned from a fortnight in Sicily, I determined to try harder. Homemade pesto was the way forward. And, having committed, I was shocked to find it's really easy. You can bash up a portion in significantly less time than it takes to actually boil the pasta.


Real pesto

I think everyone has very personal tastes in what they want in a pesto. I like garlic.



1 small clove of garlic, or half a big clove
50g basil
25g pine nuts
2 tbs or so of good quality extra virgin olive oil
25g parmesan

100g spaghetti, to serve.


Put the spaghetti on to cook. Toast the pinenuts until lightly browned all over, and put to one side to cool.

First pop your garlic clove in a big mortar, add a large pinch of salt, then crush to a paste. Next, add your basil leaves (you'll probably have to do this in a few batches) and likewise crush. Third, pop in your cooled pine nuts, and crush lightly - a few little bits of nut in the smooth paste are quite nice, I find.

I am being very strict about the order here. If you add them in a different order your basil won't crush properly, so do be careful.

Stir in the olive oil, adding more if needed, so that you have a loose paste but one that doesn't seperate out if left for a few seconds.

Grate the parmesan and stir in.

Drain the pasta, keeping a decent few spoonfuls of water, and return to the saucepan. Tip in the pesto and lift (in a salad tossing manner) to coat each strand.