Pesto crostini: With pear or caramelized onions and skirt steak
February 26th, 2010
If you’ve been around long enough, you may have noticed things are getting a bit green in here, what with a salad and a broccoli rabe-heavy spaetzle as my last two recipe posts. Green just seems like the thing to do in the middle of February. Maybe it’s a subconscious thing to counteract all that V-day red we’ve been seeing, or maybe I’m jumping the gun into March. Either way, it just feels right.
These recipes were inspired by the simple pear, basil and parmesan salad I made for L.A.’s Stir It 28 event for Haiti last weekend (that of which I adapted from Leite’s Culinaria). People really seemed to like the combination of pear and basil.
For those not familiar with Stir It 28, read the rundown here. A handful of dedicated and super-friendly food bloggers, caterers and chefs descended on Greg/SippitySup’s lovely Hollywood Hills kitchen in the name of Haiti. (I’m compelled to mention here that Greg has excellent taste in knives. Shun, baby.) We cooked for an estimated 75 guests, all whom donated to the Stir It 28 Haiti fund. For more coverage of the L.A. event, visit the Duo Dishes, The Food Addicts, Uncouth Gourmands, South Bay Rants n Raves and Domestic Divas. (I’ll add more links as they come in!) If you didn’t attend the event, you can still donate to the cause by visiting Flanboyant Eats or CocoCooks and clicking on the logo. All proceeds benefit Share Our Strength and Yele Haiti. Donations will be accepted until Feb. 28.
So back to the recipe: The pesto portion of these recipes can be doubled, tripled – quadrupled even – to suit your needs. And if you have more than an hour on your hands, I suggest cooking the onions down until they’re really browned — not just a golden brown. The darker they are, the sweeter they will be.
PEAR AND PESTO CROSTINI
Yield: 2 to 3 servings (or if you’re me, 1 serving)
- 1/2 loaf French bread
- 2 cups packed basil leaves
- 1 clove garlic
- 1/4 cup pine nuts
- 1/4 cup Pecorino Romano
- 3 tablespoons your best olive oil
- Salt and pepper, to taste
- 1 Bosc pear
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Slice French loaf into 1/2-inch-thick slices, and brush (or spray, if you have one of those nifty Misto things) with olive oil. Place slices on baking sheet and toast in oven for 10-15 minutes, or until edges are a deep golden brown. Remove from oven and set aside.
2. While those are in the oven, make your pesto. In a food processor, combine basil leaves, garlic clove, pine nuts and Romano cheese. Pulse until pesto is coarse in texture, like coarse sand. Add in olive oil and process until fully incorporated. Taste. Add salt and pepper, if needed. Scrape pesto into a serving bowl or dish and set aside. (You should have about 3/4 cup.)
3. Cut pear into thin slices and place on a platter with crostini and pesto. To assemble: Spread pesto over crostini and top with pear and fresh ground black pepper, if desired. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for skirt steak/caramelized onion recipe.)








Don’t let the ingredient list intimidate you, either. The bulk of it is just vegetables and cheeses that you will cook and mix together in a large bowl. All of these ingredients can be found in your neighborhood supermarket, even the jarred crab meat (check the fresh seafood display).
The second warning is a turkey holding a sign that reads “Turkey approved.” But look closer: this turkey is absolutely terrified. If you Photoshopped a gun to its head, it would resemble a possible hostage situation. Its blue eyes are almost pleading with you to go back from whence you came. But you won’t listen. You’ll place an order, and the box will arrive on your doorstep fairly quickly. Just in time for a party, where you and your bravest friends will pass the bottles around in a circle and compare stinky faces after you take your first sips. “Ugggh,” “Whoah…eghh” and two octaves worth of gurgling noises soon follow the slightly sweet and overall rancid flavor of gravy, diluted
The best thing out of the whole deal was the collector’s metal lunch box the soda came with — but even then, I didn’t feel right about keeping it because it had a cute little cartoon depicting an animated wad of Tofurkey at the circus. I dislike both Tofurkey and the circus. Wait, why did I want to try this soda again?





