Pesto Trapanese

Or a different kind of pesto, albeit traditional and very typical to Trapani, my adopted city

The first time I ever tasted pesto trapanese was in a charming restaurant in Guarrato, called Diegolina. The restaurant, that has a courtyard and a wood fire grill, is attached to a butcher shop. The butcher is called Diego and his wife, the chef, Lina hence the name. This was a few years ago and I was there with my lovely friend, also a chef, Amy Dencler, who was staying with me, in a gorgeous casetta I occasionally rented (before getting my own place) on Mary Taylor Simeti’s farm. Mary is another great friend and she was the one to recommend we eat there on our way to Marsala.

We liked the idea of that pesto so much that we asked Lina if she would teach us how to make it. She very kindly accepted. So, we quickly returned, before Amy had to leave, and we got our lesson. Lina had already set up the ingredients and she proceeded to process everything in a food processor, which is not what purists do.

Since then, I have often had pasta con pesto trapanese (also know as all’aglio because it has a fair amount of garlic), in homes and in restaurants with some versions being better than others — my favourites are by my friends Agata Bosco and Lara Creuso and the one by chef Cristina at La Dolce Vita. The pesto is usually mixed with busiate, the quintessential Sicilian shape together with fried aubergines and fried potatoes for a perfect, albeit somewhat heavy vegetarian meal — it will become vegan if your pasta is made without eggs.

Anyhow, I didn’t use busiate here but a shape known as gli straccetti (meaning rags) which is perfect for picking up as much if not more of the pesto than the busiate. And here is how to prepare it. Don’t be surprised, like we were at first, to realise that this pesto has practically nothing to do with the green Genoese one that we all know and love. Well, I am assuming we all do!