The Slapdash Cook

I subscribe to Cook’s Illustrated, which is a little magazine with no ads, lots of line drawings and lots of articles written by people who are trying to perfect their recipe for one particular thing. I mean, really, the articles talk about making the same dish 50 times in order to test things like whether Yukon Golds or russet potatoes cook better in large amounts of oil. They might as well use the scientific method. So I ♥ this magazine, even though it always has 2-4 recipes I can’t use because I’m a vegetarian. (Also, these people are also really not afraid of fat, so their desserts tend to be special-occasion-only stuff.)

One thing I can always use: more pesto recipes! The basil-pine nut pesto that Americans know (pesto genovese) is just one of many pestos they make in Italy, or so I’m told. This latest issue had a recipe for pesto alla trapanese (from the Sicilian city of Trapani), which is made with almonds and cherry tomatoes along with the other stuff. I had the recipe at the back of my mind Saturday when I hit the farmers’ market, where I found purple basil. Yes, basil can be purple! The same stand had purple heirloom cherry tomatoes, which put visions of an all-purple pesto into my head. J. talked me out of the purple tomatoes on the grounds that they are hideously expensive, and while he was right, I kind of wish I had defied him. Instead, it was off to Trader Joe’s for the remainder of the stuff. TJ’s is a good place to shop, but freshness and ripeness matters with tomatoes. Plus, purple!

I didn’t go TOO far off the reservation for this one, unless you count the purple basil. The biggest change I made was buying ground almonds instead of slivered, which is what the recipe called for. I am currently working my way through Indian Vegetarian and Grain Cooking, by Julie Sahni, and every korma recipe in there calls for ground almonds. Plus this house keeps Passover, and that means getting creative about flour substitutes. So ground almonds just made way more sense than the sliced ones. The downside, if you consider it a downside, is getting a fine rather than chunky texture.

The other major thing I did was omit the pepperoncini they called for, since I just didn’t see myself buying a jar of them and only eating one, then leaving the remainder to languish in the fridge. Instead, I took the recipe writer’s own advice and substituted red pepper flakes. Then I ignored the recipe and added more. Maybe my pepper flakes are weak, but the pesto needed a bit more to have some kick. The kick I ended up with was subtle but definitely there.

This pesto is vegan, which is great for people who don’t eat dairy for whatever reason. Plus since you don’t need tons of olive oil, you’re looking at way less fat than with green pesto. That is not to say that the stuff doesn’t taste good. Since it debuted yesterday afternoon, it has been a pasta sauce, a sandwich spread and a dip for pretzels.

Pesto alla Trapanese
1/4 cup ground, silvered or otherwise skin-free almonds
(If your almonds have skin, boil some water, add them to the boiling water for a moment, then drain and plunge into cold water. The skins slide right off.)
12 oz (~2 1/2 cups) cherry or grape tomatoes. Seriously, get a kitchen scale. They are so useful!
1/2 cup packed fresh basil
1 medium garlic clove, pressed or minced (to make 1 tsp)
1 small pepperoncini, minced and seeded
OR
1/2 tsp red wine vinegar (I actually used sherry vinegar) and 1/4 tsp red pepper flakes, then three more pinches of red pepper flakes or to taste
1 tsp salt
olive oil to taste (recipe calls for 1/3 cup)

Toast your almonds in a small skillet over medium heat until they’re golden and fragrant. This did not take me long. But don’t burn ‘em! Let them cool.

Put almonds in a food processor along with everything else but the oil. Blend until smooth. Thanks to the tomatoes, which are full of water, this is actually possible without oil! I imagine that the farmers’ market tomatoes would have been even jucier.

Scrape down the side with one of those handy rubber scrapers. Start the machine again and drizzle olive oil in slowly to emulsify (fancy word for “blending stuff that doesn’t mix well”). I don’t actually know how much olive oil I used, because I knew 1/3 cup was going to be way too much. Even in normal pesto, that seems like it would give you a really soupy sauce. With the juicy tomatoes, it didn’t even really need olive oil to liquefy; it was all about getting the olive taste.

When you’ve got the consistency you want, you’re done! Well, taste and see if you think you need more pepper flakes or salt. The recipe later suggests using pasta cooking water to thin it out more, but if I had done that and used the full amount of olive oil, I would have made a beverage. I can only assume that they have weird juiceless tomatoes in Massachusetts.

I’m kind of glad I went with the purple basil for this, because green basil, while adorable in its own right, seems like it would make an unappetizing brown when blended with red tomatoes. Instead, I got a red sauce flecked with dark specks, a bit like a roasted salsa. Oh! And, like salsa, it probably benefits from being left in the fridge a while so the flavors can marry.