SWEET TEETH
In theory, the act of making pesto oozes romance: I stand in the kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron, crushing basil, garlic, and pine nuts together with a mortar and pestle. My triceps pop with each grinding motion. No one has ever looked hotter making pesto. My lover salts the boiling water on the stove. He tosses a pinch over his broad sculpted shoulders, “for good luck.” He drops the spaghetti into the pot. No one has ever looked hotter boiling pasta. The meal comes together quickly. Parmesan and olive oil are folded into the bright green paste. The noodles are drained. The two are tossed together until each piece of pasta is smothered in the silky sauce. We each stick a fork into the pot and twirl up a taste. We bring the forkfuls to our mouths and slurp up the strands of spaghetti. Suddenly, a tugging. A noodle begins to slip from my lips. I turn to my lover and see that his mouth has latched onto the same one. A game of tug-of-war ends in a kiss. It’s perfectly al dente.
In practice, I am required to purchase pine nuts, good parmesan aaaaaand a fresh bottle of olive oil!?!? Like, excuse me while I head down to the Wells Fargo and take out a second mortgage on the house that I can’t even afford to dream about owning.
In an effort to unbreak the bank, I cut the pine nuts, cut the parm, grabbed my basil, and mixed up a… chimichurri, which classically uses parsley and cilantro. The result is a tangy and herby sauce that can be used for marinating steak, dressing a pasta salad, or drizzling over a piece of tomato toast. In the summertime, I put it on everything and you should too!
This recipe is for my beloved paid subscribers and was developed to be enjoyed alongside the savory bake I’m dropping in a few days. Upgrade your subscription to get a little sneak peek below!
THE RECIPE
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to sweet teeth to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.