This recipe is only available to members of the Wild Garden club. Want to join the club? Click the button below and upgrade your subscription to ‘Wild Garden Club member’ to get instant access to the full archive of recipes, videos, podcast episodes and garden guides.
There are a lot of pesto recipes in the world. So many, that I admit I did wonder if I really should be adding another to the mix.
The thing is, in much the same way that everyone has their way of making tomato pasta sauce (my brother makes his with bay leaves and chilli; my husband makes his with olives and artichoke and pieces of roasted eggplant and capsicum, roughly chopped), people tend to have their own way of making pesto.
Like a fingerprint, or a signature, the sauces you make are somehow, indefinably linked to the core of your very being. No two are ever alike, and it’s near impossible to pinpoint exactly how or why. Some sort of alchemical reaction must take place in the blitzing, pounding and crushing process, and, like a horcrux absorbing a little bit of your soul, the pesto will forever bear the unmistakable mark of its creator.
Well, this is *my* pesto. It prioritises garlic and cheese, because I am obsessed with both. It’s still a little bit chunky, but that’s because my only stick blender is ancient and crumbling to pieces. But the bit I like best, that - I feel - makes this recipe worthy of a seat at the infinite table of pestos, is the smoky pickled onion topping.
There are a lot of pestos in the world, but I’ve yet to come across another with this topping. It adds sweetness, and zing, and colour. The salty capers pop in your mouth and the tangy, smoky onion adds a whole new depth of flavour.
Whatever *your* pesto may be, whether it’s cheesy, or spicy, chunky or smooth, I suggest you give this version a whirl, just once. It might not be entirely comfortable; it might feel strange, different, unfamiliar.
But it is pesto. It is *my* pesto. And (I promise) it is good.