I have my own food blog, so obviously I love to cook. I’m a nurse practitioner, so obviously my goal is to keep people alive (you may be wondering where I’m going with this but just stick with me). Food… Living things… It seems like a no brainer that I should grow my own food. So, you may be surprised to learn that I have a black thumb.
Not a green one.
A dead, necrotic one.
I feel like anything I try to grow I kill. It all started last year when I wanted to grown my own herbs. I’m going to refer back to the last paragraph because it seemed like, “a no brainer.” I use so many fresh herbs when I cook, but the humongous bunch of basil I got from the store always seemed to wither away before I got around to using the whole thing (I mean, I cook with a ton of basil but seriously who can use that exorbitant bunch they sell at the grocery store before it turns black and gets all wilty?!). And I hate waste. So naturally I thought picking my own amount from a small plant on my window sill would be much more appealing to me.
My love for basil exceeds normal. I use it in almost everything. So obviously my first herb growing attempt was with basil.
I took 3rd grade science. I mean how difficult could it actually be? Seed, soil, water, sun. Piece. Of. Cake.
WRONG!
My seeds never sprouted. Fail.
So a friend of mine gave me a full grown basil plant just to keep alive because sometimes it’s difficult to grow them from seed.
“All you have to do is water it, Ashley,” she said. Easy.
WRONG!
Within a few weeks my green, fresh, luscious basil had browned and withered away. (At this point I was tempted to ask my mom if it was HER who made my bean sprout project work for me to actually pass 3rd grade science!)
My friend now brings me bunches of basil periodically (never potted) because I fear she knows it’s a lost cause. (Only recently did I learn that basil is very difficult to grow indoors—I live in an apartment people!)
The funny thing about people who are blessed with green thumbs is that they repeatedly have faith that you can make it work.
“Are you watering it?” Yes of course I’m watering it.
“Maybe you’re watering it too much.” No. I’m watering it per google’s instructions.
“Are you talking to it?” Well that MUST be the key—I didn’t say good morning to the plant one day so it intelligently decided to kill itself just to spite me.
I realize I have kind of gone off on a bit of a rant here. Maybe I’m just a tad jealous of people like my mom who when she walks in the door, the plant has miraculously picked itself off of the soil coming back from the dead until the minute she leaves my apartment where it lies back down turning brown again.
Annnnnyway. This post is about pesto right? Of which, the main ingredient is basil (see full circle here).
So, now I’ve resigned to just saving my pesto and basil related recipes for when I get my hand out of fresh basil from someone who can actually grow it.
Pesto is super tasty. You can use it as a stuffing, mixed in with noodles for a sauce, or spread it on bread as an appetizer. It’s very versatile. You can also make it a number of different ways, but the traditional recipe uses parmesan cheese, basil, olive oil, and pine nuts. I’ve seen arugula subbed for basil and pistachios in place of pine nuts.
Today we’re going with the traditional route.
Yields: ½ cup
Total Time: 5 minutes
Ingredients:
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
¼ cup shredded parmesan cheese
¼ cup pine nuts
1 ½ cup fresh basil
Place all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until well mixed. There should be some visible chunks of nuts.
That’s it!
The Cook’s 2 cents:
· I like making my own pesto because I find that the store-bought versions are way too oily. You only need enough oil so that it blends in the food processor.
· You can make this smoother by blending longer, but I like that actual crunch of the pine nuts, so I keep it a little chunkier. Usually you see pesto as more of a paste, but I think leaving it with more texture gives it a bit more flavor.
Nutrtition Facts:
Servings per recipe: 8 Serving size: 1 tbsp
Calories: 70 Fat: 7g Sodium: 43mg Carbs: 1g Fiber: 0 Sugars:0 Protein: 2g
If anyone is interested, I have since been gifted a tomato plant that I’m desperately trying to keep alive. Say hello to Marzie my San Marzano tomato plant. (I’ve heard if you don’t talk to them they die!)
