YOUR HEALTHY PLATE: Basil-Artichoke Pesto

This year I grew a very respectable herb garden in pots out on the back patio. Years ago I used to grow all kinds of herbs, but life got in the way, and all kinds of other projects grew up in their place, so I didn’t have fresh herbs for a long time even though I thought wistfully of those long-ago days and wished I’d gotten organized enough to grow more than the chives and lemon balm that grow wild all around my house. And then it happened.

This year I stopped at the garden center in early summer, and brought home small pots of just a few herbs: creeping thyme and lemon thyme, rosemary, sage, and lavender. I repotted them, placed them in the bright sun, and kept them watered and happy. Last week, I added a pot of basil to the group. And I thought about what I could do with that basil, which filled my entire kitchen with its glorious scent. I experimented with a few ingredients that were already in my kitchen and took it over to my friend’s house, where we sat in the backyard under an almost full moon and devoured practically the entire plate. A late summer gift.

5-6 marinated artichoke hearts (quarters)
12-15 basil leaves
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1-2 Tbsp. marinating liquid (use 1 Tbsp. if making dip, 2 Tbsp. if making sauce)
1/4 cup raw almonds
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. garlic powder

Add all ingredients to a high-speed blender, and blend for 30-60 seconds until smooth. Refrigerate at least one hour to allow flavors to blend. Serve as a dip with a few raw vegetables (such as peppers, kohlrabi, jicama, carrots, radishes, green onions) or crackers. Or spoon it over a white bean salad or cold cooked salmon just before serving. Makes approx 1 cup.

 


YOUR HEALTHY PLATE: Garlic Scape Pesto

So before I share this recipe, which I found literally years ago, I need to tell you where I’m sitting. Well it’s not actually the where that matters, and it’s not the view either, oddly enough. It’s the smell. OMG!

Like many of my stories having to do with food, this one starts with my dad, Chef Ira. Pretty much anyone who knew him could tell you that Chef Ira was in the habit of buying enormous quantities of supplies for the farm. The grandchildren took particular delight in this habit of his; my mother not so much. But be they foodstuffs, baked goods (I’m looking at you Marie, Amy, Jimmy, and everybody my dad loved at the Italian Bakery in Flemington, NJ!), meats, paper goods, party supplies, kitchen appliances (think: apple spiralizer), or feed for the animals, he liked it big and he liked plenty of it. Continue reading