Perfect pesto

Sauces can add summer flavor to any meal at any time

"If the definition of poetry allowed that it could be composed with the products of the field as well as with words," Marcella Hazen observes, "pesto would be in every anthology." And, to continue the analogy, I could be a poet laureate. That's because at our house these days we're making and freezing prodigious amounts of pesto to keep up with our bumper crop of basil.

Pesto is the Italian sauce made chiefly from basil, garlic, cheese, and olive oil, the first batch of which, as Rosso and Lukins remark in their "Silver Palate Cookbook," officially welcomes summer back to the kitchen. But more importantly, now that summer is fleeting, pesto, made in large batches and frozen, is a practical way to preserve the essence of basil, a fragile herb, and, in effect, extend the season.

Though freezing is a modern practice, pesto itself is centuries old. The first known recipe is found in Virgil. The sauce originated in the Italian region of Liguria. A narrow strip of land between the sea and the inland mountains, it's the location of the seaport of Genoa, hometown of the region's native hero, Christopher Columbus. The late Waverly Root called this area a shrine of Italian cooking because in addition to being the nurturing place of pesto it also gave birth to minestrone and ravioli. As Anna Del Conte notes in her massive "Gastronomy of Italy," the region's temperate climate and the sea air have made Liguria the site of one of the most delectable vegetable gardens in all of Europe. Consequently, the Genoese people of the region have always taken pride in employing local produce in their cooking.

Finding a balance of flavors

But, argued Root, it takes more than pride in the local bounty to explain why indigenous herbs like basil figure so prominently in Genoese cuisine. Because the Genoese so identified with their role as traders, their society developed a deferential attitude toward money. This led them to view the priceless spices of the East, the transportation and selling of which made them wealthy, primarily as merchandise to be traded for gold, not as valuable in their own right. Thus, in contrast to the Venetians, they did not hold back part of their precious spice cargo for their own cooking, but sold it all and relied instead on the herbal bounty of their hills to give character to their diet. As Marchese Giuseppe Gavotti, former chancellor and national secretary of the Italian Academy of Cooking near Genoa, confirms, "Genoese cooking seldom uses spices, only herbs, and a great variety of them." Thus, pesto is essentially the culinary result of Ligurian fiscal policy.

Moreover, as Del Conte observes, pesto is the supreme example of another Ligurian principle. This one maintains that gastronomic excellence requires the perfect balance between one flavor and another, a concept which Del Conte refers to as "just rightness." Though pesto is fundamentally among the simplest of sauces, she notes, the right ingredients in proper proportions are crucial to its success.

With such attitudes well ingrained in the local consciousness it is not surprising that the Genoese are punctilious about pesto. They've even created an organization, the Knights of the Pesto Brotherhood, to maintain standards and hold the line against mass-produced versions which, the organization contends, threaten to discredit the credibility of Ligurian cooking. The Brotherhood confers its seal of approval, a registered trademark bearing the words "Vero Tipico Pesto Genovese" ("True Typical Genoa Pesto") only on pesto made in the classic fashion with specified ingredients, to wit, "the traditional ones used by our grandmothers." Needless to say, members of the order are scandalized by trendy versions of pesto such as sun-dried tomato pesto, macadamia nut pesto, cilantro pesto, black bean pesto, and peanut pesto, to name a few. They would surely disagree with executive chef Bruce McMillian who says, "You can make pesto out of anything." But even when it comes to classic pesto made from basil, the Genoese are persnickety. They insist that authentic sauce can only be made with the small-leafed basil of their native region. Other varieties, like that grown in this country or in Asia, they claim, just won't do. Earlier this year they lodged a complaint with the European Commission alleging that certain brands of packaged pesto using Vietnamese basil are essentially fakes.

Ligurian cooks further maintain, with religious conviction, that proper pesto can only be made with a mortar and pestle. (The name of the concoction, after all, comes from the Italian word pestare, meaning to pound or bruise, and is a reference to the pestle itself.) They are skeptical that a blender, food processor, or even the mezzaluna, the implement of choice in neighboring Tuscany, can produce pesto with the right texture or flavor.

Savor last of garden herbs

Some of this "pestomania" is probably well advised. Occasionally recipes, like the one I saw recently for coconut pesto, are just too outlandish. Then, too, minty, large-leafed American basil isn't quite the same as that which grows in Liguria. And there's no question that machine-made pesto can't match the flavor, color, or consistency of that made by hand.

But in the final analysis, I think Hazen has the right attitude. She submits, "Pesto is such an inspired invention that it survives almost anything ..." So savor the taste of home grown basil, add whatever else you wish to your pesto, and by all means make it in a food processor or blender (preferably the latter) in big batches to be frozen (another modern technique probably frowned upon by die-hard Italians). This winter when you use the glorious condiment on pasta, in soups, on sandwiches, on potatoes, over fish or chicken, on pizzas, or in hundreds of other dishes, one taste is all it will take to maintain a clear conscience.

Classic Pesto (Genoese Basil Sauce)

Even recipes for classic pesto vary greatly. However, this one adapted from "The Classic Italian Cook Book" by Marcella Hazen is as authentic as any. Though this recipe is designed for the blender, Hazen advises adding the cheeses by hand to enhance flavor and texture.

Ingredients:

2 cups fresh basil leaves

1/2 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons pine nuts

2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup Parmesan cheese

2 tablespoons Romano pecorino cheese

3 tablespoons room temperature butter

Directions:

Put all ingredients except cheeses and butter in blender and mix at high speed, stopping occasionally to scrape down ingredients. Pour blended ingredients into a bowl and by hand beat in the cheeses until incorporated, then beat in butter. Freeze in ice cube trays if desired, omitting cheeses and butter which should be added to thawed pesto at serving time.

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