esto has long been a favorite of mine. From the first chomp of the basil leaf, I was hooked... pungent garlic kick, soft sweetness of the pine nut, the aromatic addition of parmesan... just writing about it gets me thinking: what can I make next with the pesto? Luckily, the options and variations are numerous!It wasn't until years after the first forays into pesto that I discovered arugula as a deviation on basil--probably right around the time that arugula itself was blazing it's way into American kitchens. I was amazed and delighted to discover that I could order boxes--yes, BOXES--of arugula, much like I could order boxes of mixed greens, from my food wholesaler for my catering business. So, making my own arugula pesto got really easy...
This spring, I planted arugula and have enjoyed salads aplenty. But as the season waned and the sun heated up on those little green leaves, the arugula was on it's proverbial last legs. So, I harvested the lot of it, and decided it was time for a little pot of bright green goodness.
My variation is a bit of a combo of basil and arugula, just for kicks. And while most recipes tend to pair arugula with walnuts, I maintain a dedication to the spendy but irreplaceable pine nut. Little did I realize when I whipped my batch up, but my version is very close to how Sarabeth (of yummy NYC bakery fame) makes hers! Bonus.
Arugula pesto
Makes around 1.5 cups
3 cups arugula leaves, loosely packed
1 cup basil leaves, loosely packed
3 medium cloves garlic
1/2 cup pine nuts
1/3 cup grated parmesan
1/3 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon coarse sea salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
Wash and dry the arugula and basil. In a food processor with the blade attachment, add the arugula, basil, garlic, pine nuts and parmesan cheese. Pulse the processor while slowly adding the olive oil. Season with the salt and pepper. Blend until smooth. Enjoy!
I used some of the pesto as a base for an apricot, nectarine, Walla Walla Sweet Onion and brie pizza over the weekend. It was lovely.
Then I slathered some on a fresh baguette and topped it with figs and chevre for a tasty lunch.
What's next? Well, this post about mac-and-cheese with arugula pesto sounds pretty divine... and this post about the addition of chickpeas to the mixture has me very curious indeed; might have to give that whirl.
If you haven't had a chance to take arugula out for a spin in this setting, I hope you give it a try. This mixture is so far from the world of jarred or store-bought pesto, it's in a whole other (hand gesture reaching to the ceiling) category, truly.
Are you a pesto fan? What's your favorite dish with pesto? I'm always up for something new!
ccasionally when I'm surfing around Facebook on my iPad, I'll see a photo and "like" it, but sometimes I want to do more than merely like it, so I save it. Generally, then, I never look at it again!
hen we cling to thoughts and memories, we are clinging to what cannot
be grasped. When we touch these phantoms and let them go, we may
discover a space, a break in the chatter, a glimpse of open sky. This is
our birthright—the wisdom with which we were born, the vast unfolding
display of primordial richness, primordial openness, primordial wisdom
itself. When one thought has ended and another has not yet begun, we can
rest in that space.
onight I'm grateful for many things, but I'm only going to list one: Husband.
f these seven habits got half the attention that we (er, I...) pay to the daily media's onslaught of nonsense, think about what our world could be like... It has been awhile since I've read through the list, and seeing them again this week following Mr. Covey's passing, it reminded me that I should review them more often.
ver have one of those weeks where it just hits you, that you are profoundly lucky? From the moment of your birth through whenever you kick the bucket, just by dint of where and to whom you were born, you are fortunate? If you're reading this, you're probably one of those lucky ones, even if certain circumstances of your life haven't quite patted you on the back with the amount of gusto you hoped for. And, even if certain aspects have downright plain-old sucked, other pieces of the pie have (probably) made up for it. (I'm guessing, yes, and I'm sure you'll tell me if I've guessed wrong for you!)





ere's what I discovered with the peas: I like them, I really do. But I don't LOVE them. I can eat a certain amount, and then I'm DONE. Kaput. Flavor over. I can think of other food items I feel that way about, so it's not like I'm picking on the poor pea alone. It was just a bit of a reminder that this is not going to be the first vegetable I reach for...
ithin minutes of posting "
y parents will look at that blog post title, turn to each other and say: "What? Sher eats peas? When did this transpire? Has someone else take over her blog and is posting about this most unsavory [to her] vegetable?" (I somehow envision them reading this blog together, very cozy-like. Makes perfect sense to me.)








s it really Friday? Doesn't seem possible!



