Pesto-list-ious

I am the kind of weirdo who makes to-do lists for her weekends. Why do I, a normally sane person, do this? Well. Personally, I find that seeing things written down makes me feel pressure to do them. I tell myself I make them so I won't forget things--but of course that's not true. I make them because there is only one thing better than seeing every item on a neatly scribed list checked off, and that's making a new list. Should anyone who reads this know of someone specializing in the psychology of list-making, send 'em my name. They need look no further for their next subject. My dad has a saying that has had, it seems, an outsize effect on me; "If it's not on the list, it doesn't get done."  Looking at a list, checked or unchecked, is the sign of someone with things to do, and that's the kind of person I tend to respect.

While this is all well and good for being organized and responsible, I'm starting to learn that you cannot make a list for your life. Part of being alive is forgetting things, being impulsive, making it up as you go. I used my Fourth of July weekend to return to humanity. I'd lost sight, you see, over the past week or two, of what it means to be a person. Being "busy" doesn't mean you have a life--it means you have a job. And telling people you haven't cleaned, read a book, called your college friends, or cooked a meal for yourself because you're too "busy" is no excuse. Making lists can also be an excuse--at least it is for me. After two weeks of not really reading any books, two weeks of an empty fridge and too much takeout/scrounging for food, I'd had enough. I gorged myself this weekend on grocery shopping and books, new and used and borrowed (the books, not the groceries!). You can hunger for a lot of things--for food, for knowledge, for that high, electric note of pure aliveness that you feel when you're about to do something reckless and unplanned. These cannot be sated by listing--only by doing. 

Applying this philosophy to cooking is one of the best things you can do. Instead of being guided by a list, or even a recipe, step on back and just feel. It's what led me to summer's best condiment--pesto.

The farmer's market, with its riotous, summery cornucopia and iced coffee-guzzling Brooklyn horde, is a perfect blend of the deftly organized and obscenely chaotic. While I was busy getting all of the vegetables on my list that Saturday morning, I almost missed it; the smell of pure summer, tangy and fresh, redolent of the kind of warm evening barbecues where the condensation off your beer bottle runs down your hand in rivulets. I paused, hand mid-rummage through my bag for a list I did not need, and looked at the abundance right in front of me. I found a bunch of basil so large it took quite a bit of effort to keep it from dragging on the ground as I walked home.

Our "mise": pine nuts, garlic, basil, parmesan, olive oil. Salt and pepper are marshaled off to the side--I know you were wondering where they were hiding!

Ah, the joys of farmer's market produce--lots of dirt! A rinse under cold running water or a swirl through a large bowl of water will make a huge difference--no one wants dirty pesto!

It's good to give the leaves some time to lose the rinsing water--since oil and water don't mix, and oil is a major ingredient in pesto, pesto and water don't get along so well, either. I let my basil air dry. If you have a salad spinner, that would be ideal here...and can I borrow it the next time I wash greens?

Lightly toast the pine nuts in a non-stick pan over medium-high heat, making sure they do not burn.

Since there are so few ingredients, and all of them play a major role in pesto, make sure everything that goes into the food processor is tops. 

Give the toasted pine nuts and chopped garlic a good chopping. 

Add the basil leaves, salt, and pepper. I used a small amount of salt since I find that the Parmesan adds quite a bit on its own. 

Drizzle the olive oil into the food processor while it's running, and let nature (or in this case, the natural tendencies of a kitchen appliance) take its course. 

Presto, pesto!

But of course--zee cheese! 

A final whirl does the trick nicely. Make sure the pine nuts are cool, otherwise they will melt the cheese--and you don't want that to happen until the pesto hits your pasta.

I hope you can smell the fragrant pine nuts, salty cheese, sweet basil, and sharp garlic from where you're sitting. 

A special thank you to two friends whose delicious Orzo with Mint and Pea Pesto inspired my craving for this herbacious deliciousness. While you may not want to eat as much in the heat, summer is a wonderful time to be a cook (and a human being). The things that we want to make and eat are in season, no planning required. Let your list-less-ness reign; let yourself be hungry, and alive.

Pesto
Adapted from Ina Garten

• 1/2 cup pine nuts
• 8-10 cloves chopped garlic
• 5 cups fresh basil leaves, packed
• 3/4 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 1/2 cups good olive oil
• 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan

Wash and dry the basil leaves. In a food processor, blend pine nuts and garlic until coarsely combined. Add basil, salt, and pepper and turn on the processor, drizzling olive oil into processor as it runs to form a smooth paste. Add parmesan and blend until combined. 

Serve with pasta, pizza, french fries, eggs, raw or roasted vegetables, grilled meat...you name it, you can put pesto on it.