I think mashed potatoes will always be one of my favorite foods, no matter the time of year. Sure, they always bring thoughts of Thanksgiving, families hunkered down around the table against the bitter chill outside the dining room windows, but let’s be honest. Mashed potatoes are amazing even in dead summer. For some reason, they tend to be a “once in a great while” treat, because they feel so time-consuming to make. I don’t even know where I got that notion, because these are ready in half an hour (if you’ve already got roasted garlic on hand) and could not possibly be lower maintenance.
Okay, I normally don’t use words like “rustic” to describe recipes. In my kitchen, it’s a running joke that if something turns out edible but supremely unattractive, it gets classified as “rustic.” The banana bread that overrose its pan and spilled over the sides? Rustic. Mushroom gravy that tasted divine but looked like something you’d scrape off your shoe? Rustic. See the pattern?
I may have to retire that joke in favor of the true definition of rustic – charmingly simple, unsophisticated. When I first tasted this pesto, my eyes opened wide, and I think I let out an audible gasp. I could taste every component in each bite – the basil, the garlic, the pine nuts, and the parmesan. It was as if each ingredient took a quick turn in a starring role before melding together into the most perfect blend of flavors I can imagine. It’s the simplest of dishes – five ingredients and no equipment required but a sharp knife, a cutting board, and some elbow grease (RUSTIC!). It’s that simplicity that makes this pesto special. Hand-chopping the ingredients a little bit at a time is what allows each flavor to both shine on its own and meld with the others, because it’s not ground into mushy paste in a blender (blenders aren’t rustic). The best part, aside from the taste, is the feeling of accomplishment after finishing all of that chopping (or maybe that’s just me. Frankly, it doesn’t take much to make me feel accomplished). Accomplishment, for the record, is also rustic.