Cilantro Pesto

I was poking around the garden yesterday, and the cilantro plants kept giving me a look that said, "If you don't pick us right now we're going to bolt and go to seed. You've been warned!" So I picked the lot, about 3 loosely packed cups of greener than jealousy leaves. Cilantro pesto on the menu.

Cilantro, coriander, call it what you like. It will taste the same either way.

I have to be honest and say I used to absolutely hate cilantro. I first ate it in Mexico and South America, where it was served pretty much at every meal. Every time I saw it I expected it to be parsley, which it never was, and it always tricked me into sticking it into my mouth and getting a rude shock. I never really learned.

But now I love it for its heat, tang, and even the slightly soapy mouth feel doesn't bother me. I guess the trick is to accept it for what it is. It's a good idea to accept pesto for what it is too, and serve it simply on hot pasta.

Pesto means paste. It's just ground up green herbs with oil, salt, some nuts or seeds, and some lemon juice. It's not even cooked. You just make a herby green slush in a whizzer or mortar and pestle. You can make pesto out of any soft green herb. Basil is the famous pesto relative, but parsley, arugula/rocket, sorrel, or cilantro/coriander all make fine pesto.

For 6 generous servings you'll need:

2 - 3 cups cilantro leaves and tender stems (toss out any gnarly hard stems)
1/2 cup of pine nuts or any nut or seed you like (toasted if you like, but it's not necessary)
1/2 tsp salt
2 small garlic cloves
juice of one lemon
a fresh green chilli, but only if you want some heat. No pressure.
1/2 cup olive oil

Pasta of your choice, and grated Parmesan to serve.

How to make it:

Grind or whizz all the ingredients except the olive oil. Keep it rough--no liquidizing!
Drizzle the oil in slowly, a little bit at a time, mixing or whizzing gently, until you have a nice sloppy texture that pours easily off a spoon.
Taste, and add salt or lemon juice or more garlic if you like.

Hey pesto, you're done!

Serve about a tablespoon of cold pesto with hot pasta, and sprinkle with parmesan.

FAQ
Haha. You all know I'm totally making this FAQ up, but in case you have questions, here are some answers.

Q. How much pesto should I use per serving of pasta? Is one tablespoon really enough?
A. 1 tablespoon. Seriously, that's enough. This is intense stuff.

Q. Can I freeze the leftover pesto?
A. Yes of course. It's lovely to have pesto ice cubes in the freezer to make a quick pasta dinner, or to toss in a soup or even a pot of scrambled eggs.

Q. I thought you were supposed to put the parmesan in with the rest of the pesto ingredients. Why don't you do that?
A. Because it monkeys around with the texture, in my opinion. When the pesto meets the hot pasta, the parmesan melts and clumps, and you don't get such a glorious coating on the pasta. I much prefer adding parmesan at the table. But zillions of Italian Nonnas would disagree, so feel free to do what you like!

Q. I hate cilantro, do I have to use it for this recipe?
A. No, you can use any soft tasty herb you like. But try cilantro. It really takes on a new character in pesto, and it might surprise you. Sorrel makes an outstanding pesto.

Q. Do I have to serve it on pasta?
A. No, you can spread it on toast, use it as a marinade for chicken or a chop, put it on grilled fish, spread it in a sandwich or wrap, or use as a pizza topping. Go mad!

Q. Should I bother toasting the nuts?
A. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. The pesto always tastes good. If you feel like toasting, go for it. If you don't, don't.

I nearly set my camera on fire taking this photo of toasting pine nuts.