July 18, 2008
I've hated that taste for at least forty years. Ugh. Like biting into a bar of Ivory. Ironically, I have to use the stuff in my professional kitchen, and taste the food, but gaaaaaah, how can people pile it on so?
When I lived in San Francisco, my former roomie invited me to dinner for "pasta and pesto." He served me wagon wheels with cilantro pesto. I did the good Southern thing and gagged it down, with compliments. Two weeks later Tommy invited me to dinner again... and served me the same thing, "since you liked it so much the last time."