Pesto di Noci
The walnut pesto, on its own
Walnuts, a few pine nuts, garlic, Parmigiano, and olive oil, worked into a pale, creamy paste. Northern by origin — Liguria makes its salsa di noci for pansotti — but my mother made her version now and then, and it was my sister's favorite.
This page is for the sauce alone — the dish it usually ends up on has its own page. Like basil pesto, walnut pesto is not really pasta-bound: spread it on warm crostini, spoon it over potato gnocchi, loosen it over roasted or steamed vegetables, or tuck it next to a cheese plate where it does the work of a condiment.
It is richer and rounder than basil pesto, with no herbs to fade — which makes it a better keeper. A jar under a film of oil holds most of a week in the fridge, tasting the same on day five as on day one.
A walnut's bitterness lives almost entirely in the papery skin around the kernel, which is dense with tannins — the same astringent polyphenols found in tea and young red wine. The kernel itself is mild, sweet, and mostly fat. A one-minute blanch softens the skin enough to rub off in a towel, taking most of the tannin with it; what remains blends into a paste that is noticeably sweeter, creamier, and paler than one made from unpeeled nuts.
Walnut fat is also unusually rich in polyunsaturated oils, which go rancid faster than olive oil — so taste your walnuts before committing a batch, and store the finished pesto cold, under oil, away from light.
The recipe
Makes about a cup — enough to dress pasta for four, or to keep as the week's condiment jar.
Related
Buon appetito.