For as long as I can remember, my mother's homemade pesto was one of the definitive tastes of summer. As I grew older, helping her make batches of pesto from the heaps of fresh basil in our garden became another summer tradition, one which signals the coming end of the season and thus intensifies our appreciation for these fleeting flavors. Five months from now, digging into that rich green sauce in the middle of the winter can bring an infusion of summer into the dreariest day.
