Radish Green Pesto 

*Recipe follows story

I invited Su over to try out one of my newest concoctions - radish green pesto - because I’d been thinking about it all weekend long.  

While I ambled home from the market, in a sweaty stupor, I thought:  Oh yeah, radish greens.  Instead of sauteing you, I’m going to make pesto out of you. Oh yeah.  Oh yeah, you dirty radish greens.  I’m going to clean you and make an oily, edible mess happen.  You will be reinvented.  And we’ll both be better for it.  

I have issues, and I take them out on my produce.
Sometimes I talk to my fruits and vegetables like we’re starring in the next big food porno…  

But…
Moving on…

I was also inspired by a pasta dish my brother ordered when we went out to dinner last week.  He had spaghetti mixed with peas, radishes and ricotta.  He shared a few mouthfuls with me, in the name of research.  It was light and delightful and really gave me something to think about…

Albeit being a pain in the ass sometimes, Tommy is a fine brother.  He’s pretty good about sharing his food.    

I thought a radish green pesto might be a nice way to tie in the peppery flavor of the diced radish and really make the dish come together so each bite would be slightly more elevated.  The spaghetti Tommy had was delicious, but the peas and radishes felt extraneous - like add ons - and not fully incorporated into the pasta as a whole.  Every bite was wonderful because it was bathed in ricotta, but I was thinking of how to make it better.  Instead of ricotta I introduced my boyfriend, MASCARPONE (with a little bit of acid).  For no reason other than the fact that I’m addicted to the stuff.  And because I used Mascarpone in Ina’s Spring Green Risotto and the creaminess was killer.  

MASCARPONE is also only to be pronounced with a strong Italian accent.
Like Giada, go heavy on the E. 
Mascarpone-eeeeee.

I was proud and excited over dinner.  I cooked out all of my worries and stress and sat down to eat with Su.

But our meal conversation took a scary turn…

All laughs and giggles…
I think not…

During dinner I shared a few life concerns with Su.
That of being sexless and single.

But, you know what’s worse than being sexless and single?

Being stalked.

I always make twisted jokes:  Hehehe.  Wouldn’t it be great if I had a stalker who ended up being hot and charming and hot and tall and hot and tall and charming and tall?

For once.

Someone tall?

I can’t spend one more moment outweighing or being taller than another man I date.
I don’t want to bench press you, I want a human jungle gym.  And I have no intention of losing any more weight or reducing my carbohydrate intake.  

But, unfortunately, hot, tall, rational, normal stalkers don’t exist.
They only exist in the sick female mind.  
I know you’ve thought about it too, so don’t read this and start with your silent judging - like you never thought about having a hot stalker.  

Stalker is a terrible word and implies creepiness, with reason.  Why I’ve been using the word all these years like something good was going to come out of it…

Well - lesson learned.  

I started telling Su that I was nervous because I was recently approached by my neighbor, we’ll call him Uncle Haris…

But before I continued to unravel my twisted tale of terror, I plated seconds.
We poured over Uncle Haris as we slurped up the second coming of the radish green pesto… 

It all began on a late March morning, when Uncle Haris told me I was beautiful, then asked me if I wanted a ride to the subway.  And just a few weeks ago, he caught me off guard and asked for my phone number.  I tried, 3 times, to deny the request - but he defeated me.  I broke down and gave it up - and when he texted to ask me out…

I lied.  
I said I was currently seeing someone, and it wouldn’t be right to go out on a date with someone else.  Uncle Haris doesn’t need to know the only thing I sleep next to at night is a king sized pillow - while I fall off into dreamland fantasizing about an 8 oz. container of cheese.  An 8 oz. container of cheese that goes by the name of Mascarpone.  

I was unsure as to whether or not I was being a bit hasty, deeming the man that lives 2 doors down from me a bit stalker-esque…

Then he asked me, again, if I wanted a ride…
And two days later, he texted to let me know he saw me walking down the street…

But Susana confimed  my sneaking suspicions.

Su gave me the time to tell my story and then chimed in.
You’re not going to believe this, he used to ask me if I wanted rides in his car too… 

Turns out my good friend has also been a victim of Uncle Haris’ antics…

I knew I was on to something.  
I’m not just neurotic, high on food and little bit reclusive…   

Susana used to live in my same apartment, so she also lived 2 doors down from Uncle Fitzpervert.

He used the same line on her:  I never realized I had such a beautiful neighbor …

That’s where it all started for her too…
I’m creeped out writing this… 

I asked Su if she wanted thirds of pasta.
She said no.
I could’ve kept going, but I stopped. 

As I thought about our similar encounters with Uncle Haris, I could have lost my radish green pesto…

Susana has a boyfriend, and she had a boyfriend at the time - who lived with her.
She said Uncle Haris would stare down Frank.
And Frank is burly and bald and fully tattooed.  
He could kick middle aged Uncle’s ass.

But Uncle would still insist on asking Su if she wanted a ride to the train…

Fortunately, our night ended on a lighter note.  We moved on from tales of stalking and closed with talking about weekend plans …
I walked Su halfway home, packed a giant tupperware of pasta - to bring to work the next day - and went to bed, holding my king sized pillow tightly.   

I haven’t heard from Uncle in a week.
Maybe he smells my radish green pesto breath, seeping out from underneath my front door, and he’s been scared in to submission…

I’ll keep you posted… 

And I don’t want you to make this uber nommy pesto and think about being stalked.
No.  Make a new happy memory…
That’s the problem with this writing space…
For better or worse, there’s a story that comes with every meal.

For Pesto

1 bunch of radish greens
3 cloves garlic
1/2 c. walnuts
1/2 c. olive oil
1/2 c. grated parmigiano cheese

-Place garlic, radish greens and walnuts in a food processor fit with a steal blade
-Pulse until completely chopped
-Slowly drizzle olive oil through food processor feed tube
-Remove from food processor and stir in cheese
-Put aside 

For Pasta Assembly

1 lb. spaghetti cooked al dente
1/2 c. mascarpone whisked with 2 T. lemon juice
2 T. lemon zest
1/4 olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
Parmigiano for serving 

-Toss spaghetti with pesto
-Gently mix in mascarpone/lemon juice
-Sprinkle with lemon zest and drizzle with olive oil - gently tossing together
-Top with cheese and freshly ground black pepper