My chives are loving the weather lately. They are both lanky and bushy. When they’re flourishing, I top everything short of dessert with minced chives.
I’m thinking pesto would be a bright note with the simple pan-seared chicken breasts I was planning for dinner. I had a bouquet of parsley* sitting on the counter, next to a bowl of pistachios. Methinks ’tis time for chive pesto.
*(Y’all know that you can keep a bunch of parsley on your counter, right? Just trim the stems, plunk them in a vase or glass, and they’ll last for a week. And they look darned pretty.)
This pesto is intensely green, with a grassy note from the parsley and mild onion flavor from the chives and scallions. A squeeze of lemon is just enough to bring the herbs into focus.
My Tom hates basil with a devout passion, so it took some work to convince him to try this pesto. He was a convert. I knew he would be; he loves all things onion. Now, Luke loves basil pesto, but has disliked onions his whole life. He too approved of this version.
What we made next with it: potato-prosciutto pizza. Beyond fantastic.
I’m already thinking of all sorts of uses: A spoonful coating some steamed baby red potatoes, a dollop mixed with sour cream or Greek yogurt for a dip, a dab swirled into a bowl of roasted potato soup.
makes a generous cup
1/2 cup shelled unsalted pistachios
1 small clove garlic, roughly chopped
1/2 cup roughly chopped chives
1/4 cup roughly chopped scallions (green part only)
1 1/2 cups roughly chopped parsley, packed
1/3 cup olive oil (about)
juice of half a lemon (about 1 tbs.)
salt to taste
1/4 cup grated parmesan
Put the pistachios and garlic in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add the chives, scallions, and parsley. Drizzle with half the oil. Pulse several times until finely chopped. Add more oil and pulse until the pesto is smooth and a consistency that makes you happy. Season with salt. Stir in the parmesan.
It’ll keep for several days tightly covered in the fridge, or for months in the freezer.