From the Italian, "Pestare"

I made pesto for the first time last night. Considering how much I like to cook, it seems odd that I've always acquired my pesto from a jar. I blame the lack of affordable fresh basil in this town.

However, the other day I acquired an entire hydroponically-grown basil plant for a mere $2.99. It was a cute little thing, dirtless roots still clinging at the base. I dropped it in a jar full of water and pulled off a few leaves for pizza topping. I expected the plant to last for a couple of weeks while I stole greenery from it here and there. Instead I attacked it, plucking off the remainder of its deliciousness in one fell swoop!

I plunked the fist full of foliage in the food processor with a clove of garlic, a nice pinch of kosher salt, a few pine nuts, and a couple chunks of aged Parmesan. I drizzled in a little olive oil while the blades whirred, and ended up with a perfectly aromatic sauce. I dumped the pesto on a bowl of bowtie, added some sun-dried tomatoes, and tossed.

Delectable! The flavor was exquisitely balanced with the tomatoes. The color was wonderfully bright green; it looked as fresh as it tasted. What was I thinking all those years? I can tell you right now I'll never buy canned pesto again.

Alongside the pasta, I served up a little carrot and currant salad (with a light yogurt-and-honey-based dressing), a bit of lemon-buttered asparagus, and paired it with a tasty Zinfandel.

Next time I plan to go the more traditional mortar and pestle route. I suspect crushing the leaves will lead to a stronger flavor and creamier texture. Besides, "pestare" means to pound or crush.

I think we should all start food blogs.