I didn’t mean to make pesto.
but the basil was wilting, and the fridge smelled like old cheese, and I needed something that didn’t involve turning on the stove.
Her Highness says to mash the garlic first.
She says to use both Parmigiano-Reggiano and Pecorino Romano, which feels like showing off.
She says to pulse in batches. Measure properly.
I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood for obedience.
What the Original Looked Like
Martha’s version is strict but beautiful—
starts with garlic mashed into a salt paste (elegant violence), then pine nuts, basil in two rounds, fancy cheeses, olive oil slow and steady like a lullaby.
It’s clean.
Precise.
Nothing loud, nothing messy.
Even the oil gets whisked in by hand like it’s being wooed.
What I Did Differently
used the food processor from the start
didn’t mash a thing.
just dumped in the garlic and hoped.
only had Parmesan—used the weird end of a wedge I found behind the pickles.
basil was half-fresh, half-fading.
added arugula to make up for the bruised bits.
used almonds instead of pine nuts because… $12.
come on.
and I poured the olive oil straight in. no whisk. no ritual.
just a long pour and a deep breath.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
Mae was playing something loud in the next room.
not music. not quite a podcast. something chaotic.
I peeled one small garlic clove with my thumbnail, dropped it into the processor with a small shake of salt—more than Martha says.
felt necessary.
added almonds. pulsed until it looked like damp sand.
basil went in next—some limp, some stubborn.
threw in a handful of arugula without asking permission.
grated the cheese directly over the spinning blade.
not safe.
did it anyway.
oil went in last. fast.
didn’t measure the full ¾ cup.
just stopped when it looked like something I’d want to eat.
tasted it on a spoon while standing barefoot on the cold kitchen tile.
didn’t say a word.
just smiled.
A Few Things I Learned
you don’t need both cheeses
(but it’s better if one’s sharp)
almonds aren’t pine nuts, but they try hard
and sometimes that’s enough
and pesto still works
even when everything else doesn’t
What I Did With the Extras
stirred some into warm pasta with frozen peas
froze the rest in an ice cube tray I never use for ice
ate one cube straight from the jar the next day
like it was medicine.
maybe it was.
Would I Make It Again?
yes
and I’ll still ignore the rules
That’s As Much As I Remember
the spoon hit the bottom of the jar
and I didn’t scrape it.
just left it there.
felt like enough.
FAQs
Yeah—just spoon it into an ice cube tray, cover it with oil, and freeze. Pop one out when pasta feels too plain. Works like a charm.
Absolutely. I only used Parmesan this time. Sharp enough, salty enough, no one complained.
Same. I Used Almonds. I’Ve Also Tried Walnuts Once, In A Moment Of Chaos. Still Tasted Like Pesto. Just A Little Nuttier In The Wrong Direction.
About 2 Days, Covered In Oil. Maybe 3 If You Pretend It Doesn’T Smell Like Fridge. I’Ve Pushed It. I Survived.
Not Really. You Can Use A Mortar And Pestle If You Want To Feel Dramatic And Medieval. I’Ve Even Done It With A Hand Blender. It’S Messy. Still Works.
Check out More Recipes:
Martha Stewart Pesto Sauce Recipe
Description
Green, Sharp, Unapologetic. Like I Wanted It To Be.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Prepare the garlic and nuts : Dropped one small garlic clove and a heavy pinch of kosher salt straight into the food processor. Skipped the whole knife-mash ritual. Added 2 tablespoons of toasted almonds instead of pine nuts—cheaper, and already open.
- Make the base paste : Pulsed the garlic and almonds until it looked like damp sand. Smelled strong. That was the point.
- Add the greens : Added 3 cups of loosely packed basil in two uneven handfuls. Half of it was soft around the edges, so I tossed in a small handful of arugula to balance it out. Pulsed until it looked chopped but not obliterated.
- Incorporate the cheese : Grated ¾ cup of Parmesan—just one kind, because that’s what I had—right into the bowl while it spun. Probably not safe. Didn’t stop me.
- Pour in the olive oil : With the machine running, poured in about ½ to ¾ cup of extra-virgin olive oil. Didn’t measure exactly. Poured until it turned thick and glossy and loud.
- Taste and adjust : Scraped down the sides. Licked the spoon. Added a pinch more salt. Let it sit on the counter while I boiled pasta with one hand and answered Mae’s text with the other.