Arugula Pesto

photo from here

Using what's left.

This is one of those mildly hippie mantras that I want to live by, I really should live by, but invariably week after week, fail to live by.

I found this poster on Pinterest and find it very intriguing. Much more intriguing than, say, a "Keep Calm and Carry On" poster/mug/t-shirt/tattoo. But maybe that's just me.

More than anything, I'm really bad about using what I have. Grocery shopping - now that I'm really good at. And engage in almost daily (completely unnecessary as I live alone, but what can be done? I have a problem). But regularly throwing away what was once perfectly good produce, cheese, or bread because I neglected it in the back of my refrigerator makes me feel guilty/wasteful/decidedly NOT Oregon, so I'm making small, discrete changes to rectify this. Heavy use of the freezer is involved. As is realistic planning. Progress report to come. Wish me luck.

This pesto was inspired based on what I had in the fridge and pantry, and in the spirit of using the perishable before it perishes.



Arugula Pesto
1 clove garlic, roughly chopped
1/4 c. parmesan cheese, grated
1 big handful arugula, stems removed
a few tablespoons of sunflower seeds
1/4 c. + extra virgin olive oil

Combine all of the ingredients, save the olive oil, in a food processor. Moisten the dry ingredients with a dash of olive oil and pulse until broken down. While pulsing, slowly drizzle in olive oil  until you reach desired consistency.


I served mine as an afternoon stack with warm naan. And, in honor of using what I have (I had leftovers), I served eggs the next morning with a drizzle of the pesto.

I'd consider that a solid check mark in the "Alexis" column.

The Story of My Basil Plant

Upon moving to Oregon, I wrote a list of exciting west-coast-ardly things I'd get to do as an bona fide Oregonian.

- Get a bike (check!)

- KEENS! (very recent proud owner.)

- Become a connoisseur of all things beer (highly debatable.)

- Plant a garden. 

I had dreams of whimsically wandering out to my garden - clad in my Keens and a gardening hat, braid in my hair while humming a Decemberists song - where I would harvest fresh herbs to season my organic dinner. Maybe even plant a flower bed or two. You know. To put in my hair.

Enter reality.

I don't have a yard. Not even a plot of outside land to make a raised bed. Nevertheless, I made due and crafted a kitchen window-stand to support my boxed herbs. Hooray! The garden dream lives on!

Re-enter reality.

Turns out a lot of these herbs need 6-8 hours of direct sunlight. That's precisely the kind of sunlight that a kitchen window just can't accomodate. I also don't think it helps that we've had an unseasonably cloudy summer here in Portland. (Aside: I keep hearing that term. Unseasonable. Last spring, last winter, last fall, last summer. All "unseasonably" cloudy, rainy, and cold. I think these Oregonians have selective recollection. Slash are straight up lying to themselves.)

Once upon a time, my basil plant was an impressive full bloom from Trader Joe's. I should have known that "you get what you pay for", because, before long, my $2.99 massive basil plant was overgrown, growing at an alarming 45 degree angle, and rapidly killing itself.  This is what she looked like after a few weeks.

My basil plant crossed me.

And when you cross me...you get cut.

And pureed with nuts and garlic. And drowned in olive oil. And pureed some more. And tossed with pasta. And eaten. Mua. Ha. Ha.

::Shortly after this blog post was authored, what was left of aforementioned basil plant was attacked by aphids and died. The end.::