Eat, cook and dream with Lilly Higgins
I was chatting to someone, he came over, and everyone else wandered away as we talked deep into the night about making our own pesto. As romantic stories go I like how the inclusion of ‘pesto’ dates it. It’s the equivalent of my parents meeting over fondue.
You can tell it was in the early noughties when pesto was slathered over panini across the land. It was drizzled into soups, mixed into pasta, and was the not-so-secret ingredient in many a stuffed chicken breast.
