Pesto book showcases author’s obsession

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THE PESTO MANIFESTO – RECIPES FOR BASIL AND BEYOND, by Lorel Nazzaro, Chelsea Green Publishing Co., New York, 2002, paperback, 200 pages, $14.95.

Basil has an ability to attract. Only the other day, as I was buying a couple of verdant bunches of the stuff, the cashier paused as he swiped the bar code, breathed deeply and smiled. “Wow, that basil smells good,” he said. And so it should. As far as great garden aromas go, basil is up there alongside roses and tomato leaves: primal, evocative, mouthwatering, green.

It’s not surprising that basil has become a revered ingredient from Southeast Asia to the Mediterranean. And nowhere has it become quite as popular as in Italy, where it frequently is pounded into pesto.

Pesto is one of the great European innovations. For versatility, texture and distinctive flavor, pesto takes on the world’s most famed culinary

inventions with no fear. It is the shadowy sibling of the trinity of Italian staple sauces, fresher than cheese-based sauces such as Alfredo; earthier than those ever-popular tomato-based sauces most simply exemplified by marinara.

It’s an easy flavor to fall in love with. If you need any convincing on that point, pick up a copy of “The Pesto Manifesto” by Brunswick author Lorel Nazzaro, a “self-confessed over-the-top basil aficionado.”

“The Pesto Manifesto” first was published in 1988 and now is being updated and republished in a time when pesto’s star has risen considerably in the public consciousness. And despite sporting the subtitle “Recipes for Basil and Beyond,” the focus overwhelmingly is on pesto.

Which is a bit of a shame, because basil is such a superb herb. As Nazzaro points out in the early chapters of her book, basil comes in dozens of varieties, all with their own nuances. Unfortunately, although I understand this was not necessarily the scope of this book, recipes including just basil are limited to maybe a couple of dozen pages, including a handful of pages dedicated to the use of basil in Thai cookery.

Still, pesto it says on the cover, and pesto we have come for. And pesto it is that fills the rest of this book. After a somewhat muddled chapter called “Other Green Pestos,” in which Nazzaro offers some interesting pesto variations such as parsley pesto, Chinese pesto and mint pesto, and a scant smattering of recipes for the same, we find her true pesto recipe.

Rather incongruously hidden away on page 54, with little fanfare, Nazzaro introduces the epicenter of her book, her pesto recipe. And a fine recipe it is too, even if not the most exciting recipe. No real trickery here, just a fairly traditional pesto with all the standards in place: basil, olive oil, pine nuts, Parmesan.

Still, while there may be little innovation in her pesto recipe (and why should there be), what she goes on to do with that pesto is by turns innovative, outrageous, silly and sometimes a little sickening.

To read Nazzaro’s book is to watch obsession in action. Loving pesto is one thing; inflicting it on every item you eat is another. And I do mean every item. Pesto cookies, anyone? Thought not. “The Pesto Manifesto” is scattered with frankly worrying tales of Nazzaro turning up at friends’ houses for dinner with a jar of pesto in her pocket to add to whatever dish they may have been preparing. She carries it with her on the plane (although this was pre-9-11) and, in one story, even tries to get a family friend to submit to her “pestocizing” donuts.

Still, there are plenty of more mainstream pesto uses here. Nazzaro easily makes the case that pesto can be added to anything. However, the question is, just because you can, should you? I’m inclined to think the answer to this is no.

Nazzaro’s use of pesto reminds me of nothing so much as a young child’s insistence on putting ketchup on everything that lands on his or her plate. In fact, as Nazzaro herself points out, pesto is really ketchup’s grown-up, slightly more stylish brother.

So, many of Nazzaro’s recipes follow some familiar patterns. One: Cook a dish, add a dollop of pesto (Pesto Burgers). Two: Cook a dish, but substitute pesto for cooking oil (Pesto Liver). Three: Mix pesto into ingredients for any dish at all and cook in standard fashion (Summa Cum Laude Cookies).

But that’s not to say there aren’t times when this format works. For example, the Roman-Style Chicken with Pesto works well, the roasted red peppers truly complementing the pesto (and vice versa). The dish is sweet and simple as many of the best dishes are. However, while the Conch Salad is a perfect summer meal in Maine (although you may have to make the suggested substitution of scallops for conch), the pesto plays an imperceptible role, quickly smothered by the citrus and onions.

Ultimately, “The Pesto Manifesto” is a fun book. Glimpses into Nazzaro’s life with obsession often are entertaining. It’s nice to know there are people out there wearing basil body oil and playing violins to their plants. And she is generous enough even to share some business tips with us in the last chapter of the book. Still, as a repository of recipes, I can’t fully shake my doubts.

Pesto is a great flavor, and Nazzaro convinces that it has more uses than as a blanket for pasta. But while cookbooks dealing with a single ingredient can spotlight like great concertos, cookbooks about condiments are necessarily limited, and can seem like an hour in the company of a kazoo.

Pesto – The Recipe

Place 2 large cloves of garlic in the bottom of a blender or food processor. Add 3 cups very firmly packed fresh basil leaves, 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese, and 1 cup olive oil.

Grind for 10 seconds. Add 1/2 cup pine nuts. Grind for 8-10 seconds longer. The sauce should be just broken up, not pulverized. Remember that pesto was traditionally made by hand, and you don’t want modern appliances to give it a baby food consistency.

Roman-Style Chicken

6 sweet red and green peppers

4 tablespoons olive oil

8 parts frying chicken

4 tablespoons pesto

4 cups plum tomatoes, peeled

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

Roast sweet peppers until completely charred. Place in a paper bag and let them steam for several minutes. Remove and put them under cold running water, while peeling off the black skin with a sharp knife. Slice the peppers into 1/2-inch-wide strips, discarding stems and seeds.

Put the olive oil in a large, heavy pan over medium heat. Add the chicken and fry on both sides until golden brown. Remove the pieces and set aside to drain. Pour all of the oil out of the pan and discard.

Put the pesto in the pan over medium heat, and add the tomatoes, crushing them with a wooden spoon. Bring to a boil. Add half the roasted pepper strips, chicken, salt and black pepper.

Cook for 20 minutes, uncovered. Add the remaining roasted pepper strips and cook for 1 minute longer.

Conch Salad

1 pound conch meat or bay scallops

1/2 cup dry white wine

1 cup diced sweet pepper

1 large tomato, diced

1 cucumber, peeled and diced

1/2 sweet onion, diced

2 fresh limes

1/2 fresh orange

1 tablespoon pesto

4 to 5 flakes hot pepper

Steam the scallops in wine for 3 minutes. Drain, rinse and let cool. Place in a bowl, and toss with the vegetables. Squeeze the limes and oranges over the mixture, add the pesto, and stir in the hot pepper. You can also add a small handful of coarsely chopped cilantro.

You can make this as hot as you like by serving your preferred hot sauce on the side, but generally speaking it is mild in flavor. You can add a little mango juice to accent the sweetness. Also, it can be made with your favorite salsa, omitting the peppers and tomatoes. Chill before serving.