How to Choose Pesto: What I Actually Look For After 12 Years in Italy. The first time I made pesto in my own kitchen in Ancona, I didn’t have a food processor. I had a mortar, borrowed from my landlady, and a bunch of basil from the Wednesday market. And no idea I was about to ruin my wrist for the next two hours. I remember standing there, pounding basil leaves against pine nuts and garlic, wondering why every Italian recipe insisted on doing this the hard way. Then I tasted it. Bright, sharp, a little peppery from the basil oils that only come out when you crush the leaves…