frond feelings

I don’t know what all of you have gotten done the last few weeks, but the dill’s sure been busy.  It has self-seeded in a good portion of my parents’ garden, and it’s about as high as an elephant’s eye, and I picked a whole big lot of it, knowing full well I had nothing to mince it up into (it’s mad tasty added in copious amounts to spinach, but I had no spinach).

I just got kind of mesmerized by its abundance, and the waxy feel of the leaves and the bracing aroma as I picked.  Then all of a sudden I had a huge handful of dill, whose abundance I did not want to waste. Dill pesto!  There’s an idea.  Fearing it would be too aggressively dilly on its own, I threw some lettuce in to mellow things out. In a matter of moments, I had some glorious green goo.

dill pesto

There are lots of things this would be good with, and for, and on. I imagined styling it up for you on a slice of bread or a sandwich or some twee little canapé.  But then my family suddenly zipped off somewhere together and the house was quiet, me and the dill pesto alone together.  In the waning moments of the day’s natural light, I took a head of endive and went outside. I tried to take some nice pictures, really I did, but I was really tired, and hungry, and it was so quiet there in the cool of the evening.


I can tell you that this stuff is really good on endive.

dill pesto

  • 1 large handful of fresh dill
  • 4-6 leaves of sturdy, mild lettuce (I used a romaine heart)
  • 1 handful of toasted almonds (roasted sunflower seeds would make a good substitute)
  • 1 tsp harissa
  • 1 slice of preserved lemon
  • 1/2 c EV olive oil

Combine all but the oil in a blender.  Coarsely combine, and then with the machine running, add the oil in a steady stream and blend until smooth.

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