On a map, the Sicilian island of Pantelleria looks like a slightly flattened caper in the middle of the Mediterranean. It is geographically closer to Tunisia – about 50km, as opposed to 100km from the coast of Sicily. When we spend time in Gela on the south coast, I like to imagine we can see Pantelleria from our beach towels, although that would be miraculous for anyone, and especially me, considering my eyesight.
The 84km2, caper-shaped island is also covered with them. Wild and at home on the volcanic terrain and rock, caper bushes are fabulous plants to look at, sprawling and scrambling everywhere, their round, fleshy and shiny leaves flashing in the sun.
The capers we love (or dread) finding on our pizza are the buds of the caper plant. Left on the plant, they would open into wide, white flowers with pink edges and violet stamens that glow and move like headband boppers. However, most are picked early, when the buds are still closed, firm and grass-green. If the flower is allowed to open, and pollinated, the stigma develops into a tiny, gooseberry-like caperberry, which is also picked. The best producers do this by hand, and harvest is in the summer, making it a laborious job – which is reflected in their price and,hopefully, in the wages of those who do the hot, crouching work.
Both buds and berries are bitter and inedible until they are cured. After they are packed in sea salt for a week to 10 days, and stirred intermittently, a brine forms, allowing some of that bitterness to leech away. The curing process also darkens the colour, and adds a briny aspect to the floral flavour and dense, layered texture. The capers (or caperberries) are then drained and packed in more salt, which preserves them for years.
The salt needs rinsing from both capers and caperberries before they can be eaten. And, depending on the producer and the curing, it might be that, even after rinsing, they are still too salty. In which case, soak them in water for a few minutes, tasting until you are satisfied with the flavour. If you are happy to meet a caper on your pizza, you will probably delight in finding one in your pesto, too.
Recipes are like stories: they revolve around one of two plots – a journey, or a stranger coming to town. In this one, basil from India via Africa, acclimatised in Europe, was pounded to pesto in Genova. Sailors took the idea to Trapani, where it was made with local almonds instead of pine nuts, and when tomatoes arrived from America, they included those, too. Meanwhile, on Pantelleria, part of the province of Trapani, they added capers to the pesto as well. And even if this isn’t exactly how it happened, it is a reminder that recipes arrive in kitchens and evolve. With that in mind, today’s recipe can be followed, or adapted, according to what you have in the cupboard.
My ideal shape for this pesto is fusilloni – big spirals – which flap and catch more than the standard size do. Alternatively, ringlet-like busiate, spaghetti or linguine would be good.
Pasta with pesto pantesco
Prep 15 min
Cook 15 min
Serves 4
5 ripe tomatoes (about 500g)
40g almonds
1 garlic clove
1 handful basil leaves
1 handful parsley leaves
1 heaped tbsp capers (ideally salted ones), rinsed or soaked
100ml olive oil
3-4 tbsp grated pecorino, or parmesan
Salt
500g pasta – fusilli or busiate are ideal
Peel the tomatoes by plunging them first in boiling water for 60 seconds and then lifting them into cold water, at which point the skins should spit and pull away easily. Cut in half and scoop out the seeds.
In a blender, pulse the almonds, garlic, basil, parsley and capers to a rubble, add the oil and pulse again for a few seconds.
You now have two options:for a smoother pesto, add the tomatoes and cheese to the blender and blitz to combine. Alternatively, for more texture, finely dice the tomato flesh and stir it and cheese into the almond and garlic mix. Add salt as needed.
Scrape the pesto into the bottom of a large bowl. Cook the pasta until al dente, drain and add to the bowl (or use a spider sieve to lift it directly into the bowl), then toss with the pesto and serve with a glass of rosé and a warm breeze.
