The Pesto Manifesto!
Just a heads up! If you want to get a signed copy of one of my books as a holiday gift for someone, you only have a few days left to order from Folio Books — otherwise, the booksellers at Folio tell me they can't ship it out on time. As I mentioned last week, I will not only sign the book and write someone's name in it, I will also draw a nice (??) doodle of a cat doing whatever job you specify in the comments field of your order. I have never drawn a cat DJ, and that feels wrong. Folio ships all over the place!
With that out of the way, here are my thoughts on a terribly important topic that nobody else seems to be talking about.
A while ago, I published the Sweetweird Manifesto, and it was so successful* that I thought I should do it again.
So hey presto — here's the Pesto Manifesto!
Pesto is Liminal, Kinda Sorta
Pesto contains both pine nuts (which are nuts that grow on a pine tree) and garlic (which is a kind of nut that grows in the ground**.) So it's inherently a liminal substance, which bridges the divide and, umm, helps us to transcend. Transcend what? You're not ready to find out.
Pesto Is Green
And we need to save the planet. Case closed! Also, Carbonara has carbon in it, so it's very bad for the environment.
Pesto Is A Sauce, A Pizza Topping, A Spread And A Dip
Actually, I don't know if it's a dip. Has anyone ever used it as a dip? I figure someone must have***. Doesn't matter. The point is, pesto is everything, and everything is pesto. You are pesto, I am pesto. Why must we quarrel, when we are made of the same creamy, oily substance? What is any of it for?
Lemon Pesto Is An Abomination
Not really related to the main topic**** of the manifesto, just an observation. Why would you put lemon in your pesto? I'm guessing someone meant to make lemon zesto, but they got confused. Pesto is supposed to be tangy, not lemony. When people put lemon in pesto, it's like if Cacio and Pepe were forceable separated, and Cacio just sat on the floor crying out, "Pepe! Where are you Pepe? I cannot be my best self without you!!!" And Pepe softly wept, unable even to answer. Fuck, now I'm sad. You monsters.
Pesto Represents Our Declining Social Standards Somehow
Did you hear they tried to cancel pesto? That's right. My favorite homestyle Italian place said they had run out of it, and I had to pick some other kind of red sauce, or a cream-based travesty. This proves cancel culture***** is real.
Technology Is Changing Everything. EVERYTHING.
In the olden times, only licensed apothecaries were allowed to make pesto, using a special mortar-and-pestle. (This is where the word comes from, in fact.) Shakespeare's famous play Romeo and Juliet is actually a cautionary tale about improperly made pesto and the havoc it can wreak. But technology (and probably also pants with non-rolled cuffs) have democratized the making of pesto forever. Is this a good thing? Ask Juliet. Oh wait, you can't — she's dead. I rest my case.
Gnocchi Are Gnostic
Actually, I don't know what "gnostic" means, but it's one of those words that automatically makes you sound extremely smart -- like people who say "gnostic" have probably either traveled overseas or done serious drugs, possibly both at the same time. Anyway, whenever you say the word "gnocchi" out loud, your tongue will make a motion as if you're trying to scrape a tiny potato dumpling off the roof of your mouth. That upswept tongue is opening you up to Secret Knowledge of the Cosmos. Keep saying the word: GNAWWWKI, NNNNNNOOOCKY, GGGGGNORKY. You'll reach the spirit realm eventually.
Also, Basil comes from the town of Basel in Switzerland, which is famous for its barges. A barge is a boat with an inferiority complex, which explains a great deal about the hierarchy of herbs and seasonings.
Set Yourselves Free! Tear Down The Pesto Curtain!
I just realized this is a manifesto and I have yet to urge any particular course of action, apart from saying the names of pasta a lot. That's bad, I think? (Consults pundit manual.)
So.
We need rigorous standards but also an end to regulation. The market should decide, unless it decides something I don't like. Nobody should be shamed for their opinions ever, unless they're a college student who put some pesto on a bagel, in which case a thousand angry screeds are absolutely called for.
You need a traditional family unit to stir sauce properly — the thickness and richness and (another word for thickness) only come from a stable nuclear family, all of them rotating ladles with perfect slowness. When did everything get so fast? All of our pasta sauce has burned away, leaving a crusty residue on our favorite pot, because the world would not slow down. Where is the creamy world we were promised?
Clever kicker: Maybe the reason they're called pine nuts is because we forever pine for an idyllic time that is never coming back. Could it be that the answer was in front of us all along?
* Reader, it was not particularly successful. I'm a thought-leader! Why won't anyone thought-follow me?
** I did no research whatsoever, because this is a manifesto.
*** Again, research is for people whose opinions can't stand on their own two feet.
**** There's a topic! No, really, there is. You're just not equipped to grasp the nuance.
***** They said I wasn't a real pundit unless I mentioned cancel culture. Now I have. Where is my cookie??! (Seriously, though, I wrote a whole essay about cancel culture, and it boils down to: "Cancel culture is not real, but social media gamifies bullying and pile-ons in a horrifying manner.")
Music I Love Right Now
So I recently went down the rabbit hole about Tom Moulton, a guy who moved to Fire Island in like 1972 and started messing around with records to make them last longer on the dance floor. (He would get the vocal and instrumental versions of a song and kind of fade back and forth between them.) Basically, Tom Moulton invented the 12 inch extended remix.
Here he is with the Salsoul group First Choice in 1977:
Anyway, I was listening to a compilation of Ashford & Simpson remixes, and Tom Moulton had a mix on there that was incredible. And I realized I'd heard some other great remixes from him before, of bands like Instant Funk and First Choice.
There's a compilation of Tom Moulton remixes from 2006 called simply A Tom Moulton Mix, but it's long since out of print and copies go for a lot of money. (If anyone has it and would care to share, I'd really appreciate it.) But on iTunes, I was able to get a compilation called Philadelphia International Records: The Tom Moulton Remixes, which is all of his remixes of Philly soul acts like the O'Jays, Billy Paul, Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, etc. I liked this quite a bit, though some of the songs have more orchestration than is usually my jam.
But then I found something else on iTunes, something which is kind of a bonkers deal.
There's a compilation for sale called Salsoul Original 100, which is basically a fucktonne of songs from Salsoul Records. If you haven't heard of Salsoul, they ran from the mid-1970s to the early 1980s, releasing music that combined salsa and soul. (And a lot of disco, natch.) Including the aforementioned Instant Funk and First Choice. I've been obsessed with Salsoul for as long as I can remember, because almost all of their records have an irresistible groove to them. Anyway, Salsoul Original 100 contains 98 songs (not 100, for some reason) and iTunes has it for sale for just $9.99. The remastering sounds decent to my ears, too. This is such a bonkers good deal, I have no idea if it's a mistake — but this is a great crash course in some of the best dance music ever released, for just ten bucks. (And yes, it includes a handful of Tom Moulton remixes.)