Pesto Dipping Oil

Summer in the house, second full year. The garden is exploding — twelve tomato plants producing at industrial rates, the zucchini attempting world domination, the peppers doing their steady, reliable thing. I canned thirty jars of tomatoes this summer, up from twelve last year. Linda and I have developed a canning rhythm — she comes over every other Saturday in August, we process the week's harvest, the kitchen fills with steam and the smell of tomatoes and vinegar, and the jars line up on the counter like soldiers. Thirty jars. A winter's worth of sauce, soup, chili, and stew. My backyard, in my jars, on my shelf.

The kids are in the garden. All three. Brayden (almost six) waters with the hose (which means the garden gets watered and so does everything else within a fifty-foot radius, including Biscuit, who loves the hose, and Harper, who does not). Harper (four) reads the seed packets and the gardening book I got her from the library and reports on facts: "Tomatoes are technically fruits, Mama." "Zucchini plants can grow up to three feet." "Basil is part of the mint family." My daughter is a garden encyclopedia. Wyatt (almost three) sits in the dirt. Just sits. Holding tomatoes. Studying worms. Being Wyatt. The boy finds peace in soil. Not everyone finds peace. He found his in dirt, and I'm not going to question it.

Blog post: "What My Garden Taught Me About Budget Cooking." The thesis: growing food isn't about saving money (although it helps — thirty jars of tomatoes at $0 versus $75 at the store). It's about ownership. About knowing where your food comes from. About putting your hands in the dirt and pulling out something your family will eat for dinner. The post got shared by a gardening community with 200,000 members. My follower count crossed 55,000. The garden and the kitchen and the blog are all growing from the same soil.

Harper told me — with full encyclopedia authority — that basil is part of the mint family, and honestly that little fact made me look at my overgrown basil patch in a whole new light. After all those Saturdays of steam and vinegar and thirty jars lined up on the counter, I wanted something that didn’t require a canner or a processing time — just a cutting board, a bowl, and that armful of basil I’d been meaning to use before the heat turned it. This pesto dipping oil comes together in minutes, costs almost nothing when your garden is the grocery store, and it disappears just as fast as the jars fill up.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, packed
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon pine nuts (or walnuts)
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
Crusty bread or focaccia, for serving

Instructions

Prep the basil. Wash and thoroughly dry the fresh basil leaves. Pat dry with a paper towel — any excess moisture will dilute the oil.
Toast the nuts. In a small dry skillet over medium-low heat, toast the pine nuts for 2–3 minutes, stirring frequently, until lightly golden and fragrant. Remove from heat and let cool.
Combine in a bowl. In a wide, shallow serving bowl, add the olive oil, minced garlic, Parmesan, red pepper flakes, salt, pepper, and lemon juice. Stir to combine.
Chiffonade the basil. Stack the basil leaves, roll them tightly, and slice into thin ribbons. Scatter the basil and toasted nuts over the oil mixture.
Rest and serve. Let the oil sit at room temperature for at least 5 minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Serve immediately with sliced crusty bread or focaccia for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pesto Dipping Oil — What the Garden Keeps Giving Even After the Last Jar Is Sealed