—  For Marguerite Duras — 

Place cloves of garlic in a mortar. 

Hold pestle … snugly … mmm snugly in your palm. 

Start to mash, slow swirling motions. 

Piano piano. 

Gently gently, you’re not trying to pound into submission cara, she hears granny’s voice, you’re trying to coax their essence into emerging. Add a dash of salt to help. To build, you always need a gift from the earth. 

Once the yellow of the sun reveals itself, set aside. 

Enter pine nuts, stage left. 

Give them space, my love, let them play, and for you they’ll put on the glow of the earth.

Lift from bowl. 

Start laying basilico, in small batches so you have time to know them. As the mortar becomes lush withthe green of the forest, gradually introduce yellows and browns. [1] 

Softly, softly.

Give them room to engender themselves, transform into a basilica. Don’t try to make it the way you think it should be, child. 

Love it, and let it be. 

And when you hear the whispers of angels, remembermy dear,sometimes they appear to take the form of gargoyles. But don’t be fooled, demons are just hungry cherubs, shower them with yellows of fire and the Tuscan sun, and always swirling, bathe in drizzles of green around which this world builds itself. 

Tastechild, keep tasting, listen with your tongue. 

Add salt to taste.

Moderato cantabile.

Notes

Pesto Genovese 

– Fresh basil leaves, pounded
– Garlic, smashed
– Pine nuts, toasted
– Parmigiano-Reggiano, grated
– Pecorino Romano, grated

All incorporated — yes there are bodies involved — with extra-virgin olive oil

…

Jeremy Fernando reads, writes, and make things.