- [Father] Dinner's ready.
Trenette al Pesto.
(stately opera music)
(Alberto munches)
- (gasps) Mmm!
(Alberto gobbling)
- Uh.
- Mmm!
(both munching)
- Okay.
(easygoing music) (Babish speaking Italian)
- [Babish] Uh, Google Translate.
Hey, what's up, guys?
Welcome back to "Binging with Babish."
For this week, we are once again playing with fire,
in the form of a simple, traditional,
regional Italian recipe.
Trenette al Pesto is a simple enough dish,
but as usual with Italian cuisine,
the devil is in the details.
There's Ligurian pesto,
the kind of basil- and pine nut-based pesto
with which you're probably most familiar.
Plenty of ways for us to get into trouble.
And then there's the trenette,
which, from what I can tell,
is a little bit wider than linguini,
not quite as wide as fettuccine,
but shares its flatness.
Honestly, all that really matters is
that you use pasta of the utmost quality.
And then there's some yellow waxy potatoes and green beans.
We're gonna peel and small dice the potatoes
and cut the green beans down into, like, one-inch segments.
Then comes the pesto,
for which we're gonna follow Pixar's posted recipe.
30 grams of pine nuts, two cloves of chopped garlic,
and a pinch of coarse salt head into a mortar and pestle,
where they get processed into an almost creamy paste.
Then we're adding 50 grams, or 45 leaves,
of fresh basil, stems removed.
At this point, you might start to wish
that you had a slightly larger mortar and pestle,
but go ahead and soldier on,
processing the basil leaves
until they just start to break down,
at which point we're gonna start
slowly adding some high-quality olive oil.
Nothing too spicy or fruity.
We want a nice, mellow flavor.
And we wanna add 100 mil of it,
one little splash at a time,
while we slowly process together the pesto.
This is gonna help emulsify it into a creamy sauce
rather than an oily mess.
Another thing that's gonna help emulsify it is cheese,
about two tablespoons each Parmigiano-Reggiano
and Pecorino Romano.
Once you've added all the oil
and the sauce is smooth and creamy
with the consistency of, say, heavy cream,
you are ready to rock.
Now, you might be asking yourself,
"Is it worth setting your forearms on fire
to slowly and laboriously coax these ingredients
into a sauce,
or can you just throw everything
in a food processor and blitz?"
Well, the answer is yeah,
this will still yield a mighty fine pesto.
But the theory is that by bruising and mashing the basil
rather than chopping it
yields a more subtle, delicate, pronounced flavor.
For more, we turn, as always,
to a blinded Jessican taste test,
which quickly and resoundingly agreed
with Italian tradition.
The mortar and pestle version was better.
My science is flawless.
Do not question it.
Anyway, it's time to start finally making the damn thing.
We're starting by bringing our heavily salted water
to the boil before adding our chopped potatoes,
pasta, and green beans, all at the same time.
I'm not sure how I feel about this.
I think it's not enough time for the potatoes
and too much time for the green beans,
but let's see what happens.
We're cooking for about 10 minutes,
reserving 1/2 cup of pasta cooking water,
straining everything,
and then preparing to combine with the pesto,
which we're gonna do in an entirely separate bowl.
It is important not to heat your pesto.
About the only heat you want it to experience
is the residual heat from the pasta.
We're gonna add some of our pasta cooking water
a little splash at a time as we toss everything together
until we've achieved the correct consistency,
which should be nice and creamy,
both from the pesto and the pasta cooking water
emulsifying together into a sauce,
and from the potatoes,
which should break down just a little bit
and lend their starch to the situation.
Once you've got this properly seasoned with kosher salt,
no freshly ground pepper in this recipe, apparently,
go ahead and plate it up,
and get ready to savor the pride and joy of Laguria,
one of the most delicious and comforting dishes
in the world.
One that needs no improvement,
but I wanna see if I can get a little bit closer
to the version in the movie.
This, I assume, starts not with store-bought basil,
but that which has been grown and freshly harvested
in one's own backyard.
I'm honestly not sure
if this is gonna make any appreciable difference,
but as usual with Italian cuisine,
it seems like the further you go for authenticity,
the better.
So we're grabbing exactly 45 leaves,
or, eh, I don't know, somewhere around that,
and this time we are not measuring anything.
We're gonna do things the Italian way, by using the Force.
We're losing the stems of our leaves of basil.
I got myself some legit, real-deal Italian pine nuts.
A beautiful head of young, freshly harvested garlic,
which has a more subtle, slightly less spicy flavor
than its older counterparts.
By the way, you might be wondering
why my nails are painted now,
and the short answer is that I like the way it looks,
but the thematically appropriate answer is
that I got a little sea monster in me.
Next up, we're busting out a real-deal
Italian cut-out-of-marble mortar and wooden pestle,
both the authentic choice and the much easier choice
because its weight is gonna help cut down
on forearm utilization.
I'm gonna lightly toast my pine nuts
by tossing them around in a dry, hot pan
and allowing them to cool completely
before processing them together with the garlic.
And the important thing to keep in mind
when processing this stuff together is not to mix or scrape,
but rather to pound.
This is both gonna produce a smoother, more creamy result,
and it's an easier, shall we say, more familiar motion.
Once we've broken the pine nuts down to a sandy consistency,
I'm gonna chop up the garlic a little bit,
add it to the mortar,
and proceed to give it a solid pestling.
Once you've got that broken down
to a nice, creamy, almost lumpless paste,
which should take anywhere from three to five minutes,
now's the time to start adding the basil leaves,
one little handful at a time.
Add a little pinch of coarse salt.
This is gonna help break down the basil leaves
by acting like little sort of ball bearings
of cellular destruction.
Once you've got everything processed
down to a pretty smooth paste,
now's the time to add the cheese.
This time, we're using a 2:1 ratio
of Parmigiano-Reggiano to Pecorino Romano.
This is gonna give us more
of a mellow, subtler cheese flavor.
Pound and process that into the sauce.
We don't want any big old chunks of cheese.
Then, once you've got that down
into a nice, relatively smooth paste,
it's time to add the olive oil.
This time, we're using real Lagurian olive oil.
You definitely don't need
to special-order region-specific olive oil,
but once again, we're trying to,
as accurately as possible, recreate what was enjoyed
in that darling little fishing town in the Italian Riviera.
Add the oil a little bit at a time,
adding cheese to emulsify if the sauce starts to break,
until you're met with a thick, creamy Italian pesto.
Mine's a little bit chunky,
but hey, that's the way I like it.
And this time, with the pasta, I'm adding stuff in stages.
First, the potatoes, because they take the longest to cook.
After about five minutes of cooking,
I'm gonna add the green beans.
Let these guys cook for about three minutes
before adding the pasta.
That's because this time,
I'm using a quick-cooking dried trenette
that only takes two minutes to cook.
If you're using a more traditional dried pasta,
go ahead and time things accordingly.
Scoop out that pasta water.
Set it aside.
Drain the stuff.
Drop it straight in a large bowl,
along with our homemade pesto.
Toss everything together
with a little splash of pasta cooking water,
adding more as necessary to emulsify the sauce.
Take care not to over-toss,
so you don't break down the potatoes too much.
Pile it high in a bowl.
Be sure to top with plenty of green beans and potatoes.
And this time, we're not gonna forget
to garnish with a little bit of fresh basil.
And there you have it: Trenette al Pesto,
made with real Italian regional, local ingredients.
Was it worth the extra effort?
And the answer is, kinda, yeah.
There's a lot more subtlety and sweetness
to the olive oil and the young garlic.
The freshly picked basil has a little bit more
of a pronounced flavor.
But if you really wanna be authentic,
you gotta eat this like a sea monster,
even if people ask you,
"What's wrong with you, estupido?"
Just laugh as you drive away on your Vespa.
And now, folks, I'm very excited to share with you
a trailer for Rick Martinez's new show,
premiering right here on "The BCU" this Saturday, July 10th.
Let's take a look at "Pruebalo with Rick Martinez."
(waves swishing) (relaxed adventurous music)
- Mmm!
Welcome to Mexico.
Pruebalo.
(cheerful music)