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Posted on Sun, Nov. 21, 2004
The power of pesto
BY MARLENA SPIELER
The first time I went to Europe, a number of years ago, I decided to go to Italy.
I'd like to say that it was because, being a cultured soul, I was lured by the magnificent paintings, statues and frescoes of Firenze, Venezia and Roma. The truth is, that when I was studying at the California College of Arts and Crafts, I spent as much time in Oakland's Genova delicatessen, on Telegraph Avenue, as I did at my place of study. It was only natural that I decide to postpone Firenze, Venezia and Roma -- I mean, the art has been there a long, long time and I could expect it to last a bit longer -- for the glories of Genova. I mean, I had a really good reason.
Pesto.
In the large, gray, industrial city of Genova, it is all about the pesto. This is a working-class town where much of the working is on the docks. Music is everywhere -- from the world-class music university to the Genovese singing to themselves on the street to opera in the town piazza, as well as '50s Italian music wafting from the open windows. And everybody is making, and eating, pesto.
THE PESTO COAST
Rough and tumble Genova is located on the tender strip of coast between France and Tuscany known as Liguria, home of the most blissful Italy you could ask for -- Portofino, Cinque Terra and myriad villages that may move by motorinos (scooters) but fuel themselves with pesto.
The region was once joined as one land with Nice just across the border, and on the French side you'll find pates au pistou and soupe au pistou, siblings of the Italian side's pesto pastas and minestrone.
Because of my pesto habit, I rolled into Genova one day, straight off the boat, so to speak, without any expectations other than a daily dose of fragrant green basil paste. I stayed for a handful of months, in an eighth-floor walk-up on the top of a steep, cobbled hill.
While I wasn't thrilled to be doing all that climbing (and did I mention there was no hot water?), the challenges of living in Christopher Columbus' hometown were worth it for the joy of wandering through the twisting streets of the old town, smelling basil in the air as it wafted from window boxes that adorned almost every window.
Tiny basil, fragrant basil, basil that grows in the sunshine of this corner of Italy, the scent of basil that lets you know you are in Genova -- I can think of nowhere else that smells like this.
SAVORY READING
And because in Europe menus are posted in front of restaurants -- it's the law -- I could amuse myself endlessly (I still do, wherever I go) reading through the day's menus and specialties. I wandered along the streets and alleyways of Genova, stopping at the door of every trattoria, perusing each menu, reading each description as if the menus were novels or gripping biographies.
Always, I would be tasting each dish mentally, as well as sniffing the air as I stood by the menu for a whiff of savory fragrances wafting from the restaurant's doorway.
Glance at any Ligurian menu: Trofie al pesto (funny twisted pastas that look somewhat like big tadpoles), trenette al pesto (flat fettuccine-like pastas), gnocchi al pesto (potato dumplings) and minestrone al pesto or minestrone Genovese.
Ligurian pesto isn't tossed into just anything, however. There are specific dishes that call for pesto, usually trenette, trofie, lasagnette, gnocchi and minestrone. And to be authentically Ligurian, trenette are cooked with diced potato and green beans before being splashed with Genova's finest.
PURE THOUGHTS
As far as making pesto from other herbs is concerned -- Mama Mia, what were you thinking? (Though when basil is out of season, a pesto d'inverno, or winter pesto, is made by crushing walnuts into a creamy paste and then mixing it with cheese and olive oil; it is divine.)
That is not to say that there is only one way to make pesto and that all Ligurians make it that way. Perish the thought.
In fact, every city, every town, every village and hillside makes its pesto differently, and if asked will tell you that theirs is the only correct way.
For instance, western Ligurians say their basil has the most flavor; those in the east say the same of theirs. Many pesto cooks add a sprig or two of parsley to give depth to the basil.
Some Ligurians consider garlic an essential ingredient, while others say it distracts from the basil. There are the nut variations (pine nuts, walnuts, even pistachios or almonds) and the cheeses (Parmesan, pecorino or both).
About the only thing everyone agrees on is the olive oil: It must be Ligurian.
After attending a tasting of pestos made with olive oils from all over Italy, I cannot dispute the notion. It was amazing how the oils from different regions just didn't work with the Ligurian flavors of pesto. Pesto is eaten so often and so traditionally in Liguria that even I, the greediest pesto eater alive, once asked a basil grower's family if they ever got tired of pesto.
''Never!'' exclaimed the farmer's wife. ``Life doesn't feel right without it, and if I don't serve it several times a week, the children get upset.''
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