Basil and me

One of my favourite flavours in the whole world is basil.

About a decade ago I had enormous luck with it and seemed to have an endless supply.

I invested in a smallish, some may say puny, mortar and pestle and fine-tuned my pesto making skills.

Time went on and with three children in hand I didn't grow basil again.
That was until last year when, while unscrewing the lid of my Coles house label pesto, I was overcome by nostalgia.

Now, some months later I can report that I am the proud owner of a huge terracotta pot full of basil.
But, on the downside, I should have four times my bounty.
I just could not get punnet after punnet to grow.

Lack of water and TLC at the all important establishing time was probably lacking as end of school and Christmas festivities overran me.

With hindsight a bit of netting may also have helped the survival rate.

But I have been loving my surviving plants.

I haven't made one bit of pesto yet but I have loving the torn leaves in salads, focaccias and most of all, bruschetta.

We have no particular recipe.
Chopped tomato, plenty of torn basil, red onion to taste and olive oil. Plenty of black pepper seasoning.
If I have some feta I also like to crumble that in the mix. My favourite is the creamy Dodoni.
Otherwise I opt for the cheaper, low fat options.
Not quite as yum, but not too bad.
The other night I went to a fitness class.
I did not feel like a big meal but started to make bruschetta.
My 8 year old, Lucy, insisted she would make it for me. I wasn't all that encouraging but she turned out a super yummy bruschetta on Vita Weet crackers.
Bellisimo.
We have been enjoying the recipe on grainy bread, French sticks and rolls that needed to be eaten.