My shameful shortcut to perfect pesto

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been… too long since my last confession. Picture the scene. I am in the kitchen, almost literally spinning plates. I should have been focusing, prioritising the bits that needed to get done, keeping an eye on the clock. Instead I’ve been mucking about, making an unnecessary batch of cookies, re-testing some buns that almost certainly didn’t need it, but I fancied baking. And I’ve lost track of time.

I’d volunteered to do lunch earlier in the day when my husband had mentioned that he was in back-to-back meetings with a breakneck turn-around lunch break. Now here he is: ‘OK, here we go, I have 20 minutes for lunch!’ I am in no way prepared to serve lunch imminently. Luckily lunch is supposed to be simple: a classic pesto pasta. No accoutrements or faffing, just an easy and delicious way of using up the huge bunch of basil burning a hole in my fridge.