Getting Back to Cooking: 101 Cookbook's Pesto, Italian Nonna Style

 

My bedtime buddy

I'm offically in love. Not with a new ingredient or the warmer temps. I'm in love with Anthony Capella, the author. I was introduced to him by a dear friend (and fellow foodie) Mary Luz Mejia last month and have already breezed through The Empress of Ice Cream and am almost at the end of The Wedding Officer. You see the book on my bed? I've been retiring to the bedroom with it every night and devouring chapter after chapter, then falling off to sleep with dreams of learning to cook in Italy, with delicious thoughts of burrata and limoncello doing an energetic tap dance during the interlude.

More than anything else, The Wedding Officer has pushed me to cooking once again. I've taken a long hiatus from the kitchen after my parents' visit and this Sunday I was craving a nice helping of pasta - obviously, since the book is set in Naples during the war in 1944. I've been reading Capella's descriptions of the food to Sean and he has been listening gently, but has since banned me from sharing any more passages because they have an uncanny way of encouraging his stomach to rumble. And, with me being absent from the kitchen, he hasn't been too thrilled about having to cook his own meals. So when I finally declared that I was donning my apron once again this Sunday, I swear, I saw him roll his eyes heavenwards in thanks.

So something simple for Sunday lunch meant a lovely fresh pesto. I stumbled across 101 Cookbook's 'How to make Pesto like an Italian Grandmother' recipe and I thought nothing could be more fitting. It was my way to vicariously living the book in my kitchen by doing something so traditional. And it was so simple. The hardest part was keeping all the basil and nuts on the chopping board as I patiently cut up all the ingredients into a fine, fine mince. Sean cooked some spaghettini and lunch was soon served. While it might not have been eaten under sweet lemon trees with the sound of the waves playing its own symphony, the pesto was delicious.

We may have overdone the garlic but the emerald basil leaves and freshly grated Grana Padano (Sean and I couldn't find Parmesan in the store) made the pesto taste like nothing you get in a jar. With the little bit that was leftover we were sneaking small spoonfuls thinking about where else we could use it - as a spread on toasted bread, for grilled fish, mixed with breadbrumbs and stuffed into tomatoes. If there was one thing we knew, there was no way we were ever touching a jar of pesto again, no matter how natural or gourmet the choice.

While pesto didn't feature in The Wedding Officer since its a Genovese specialty and the book is set in Naples, it was the closest I managed to get to Italy that day. A Neopolitan saying that does make an appearance in the book simple reads, “A well-fed stomach makes a forgiving heart….”  And considering my husband gave me a nice little footrub that evening. I know for a fact that it actually does work well. In fact, very, very well indeed.