basil pesto: act one

So, one of my favorite aunties got me a mini-food processor for a Christmas gift. I am convinced that she has some sort of extra-sensory talent deigned from heaven to give exactly what I need. For example, on my LDS mission to the great state of Maine, most people gave me food for the holidays. She gave me wool socks. Those socks have served me well for nigh unto 5 years and I think of her every time I slip them on and save my feet from premature separation from life.

Now the tables have turned. I don't need socks anymore...I need basil pesto.

At approximately 7:37pm July 4th 2008, I was reintroduced to the world of basil pesto. It was a warm introduction with a cheese pizza being our mutual friend. I soon after started buying it as a "splurge" item every once in a while for special occasions involving lunch with females or other random recipes. Then one day I was talking with a friend from Genoa, Italy (which happens to be the self-proclaimed birthplace of pesto) and was informed that making your own wasn't as challenging as I has previously conceived. My interest peaked. What if?

Enter Auntie Sue.

Even though she claimed that salsa was the intended product that inspired her to give me a food processor, there was only one proper way to christen my new kitchen appliance. After a few hours of recon I placed 1 cup of basil, toasted pine nuts, garlic, a pinch of salt and some olive oil into my new found toy and pushed down one button that magically created one of my new favorite things to make.

The button on my processor now is aptly labeled, "Press for Paradise."