BASIL. SO MUCH BASIL

I generally make pesto once a year. I suppose I could make it any time, really, but for me there's a pesto season, and it comes at the end of summer, or the beginning of fall. Either a friend will have a massive basil overrun, or if not then I can head to the Italian specialty grocery store in Portland, where a "bunch" of basil will be huge and beautiful and cheap. I can also pick up the shredded Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese and pine nuts I'll need. The work, of course, is all in the basil-- taking the leaves off the stems. So many leaves. I made my pesto this year in two batches, because the store didn't have enough basil when we got it the first time, but each go round was about seven bunches, which produced around a pound of leaves. I've gotten faster at getting the leaves off the stalks and stems, but I'm also more interested in washing the leaves to get rid of a greater portion of grit, and I've started blanching the basil because it keeps the color a prettier bright green rather than letting it go a less appetizing brownish green. The blanching is also the last-chance for grit to fall to the bottom of a pot of water. Some people might think making five or six pounds of pesto is too tedious, but it's actually a great pleasure. One works at one's own pace-- there are no clocks or deadlines, and the result-- between 60 and 90 ounce and a quarter frozen cubes in the upstairs fridge and the basement freezer-- means that with no notice at all, pasta-and-pesto is always an option.