Pesto is one of those foods that has been so thoroughly industrialised that most people have never actually tasted the real thing. The supermarket version — pale, oily, bulked out with potato flakes and sunflower oil — bears roughly the same relationship to pesto Genovese as instant coffee does to espresso.
The original, born in Genoa and the Ligurian coast, is startlingly simple: basil, olive oil, hard cheese, nuts, garlic, salt. That's the whole idea. Which means the quality of a pesto lives and dies entirely on the quality — and the honesty — of those few ingredients.
How to read a pesto label
Turn over any jar of pesto and three things tell you almost everything:
The basil percentage. Basil should be the first ingredient by a wide margin — it's a basil sauce, after all. Industrial pestos often contain as little as 20–30% basil, padded with cheaper greenery, potato and water. Anything above 50% is serious.
The oil. True pesto is made with extra virgin olive oil, full stop. Most jarred pestos use sunflower oil with a token splash of olive oil for the label. If "sunflower oil" appears anywhere in the ingredients, the flavour will tell you.
The cheese. The real recipe calls for aged Italian hard cheeses — traditionally Parmigiano Reggiano or Grana Padano together with Pecorino. Look for the PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) certification; "hard cheese" or "cheese powder" on a label is a euphemism worth avoiding.
The jar that passes the test
Pasta Zaccagni's Pesto Genovese is what a jarred pesto looks like when nobody is cutting corners: 63% Italian basil — far beyond most jarred pestos — with extra virgin olive oil as the only fat, at a generous 23%. The cheeses are the real articles, Grana Padano PDO and Pecorino Romano PDO, and the body comes from pine nuts and cashews, which give it a soft, velvety texture that carries the basil rather than muting it.
It's made entirely in Italy from Italian-origin ingredients, it's gluten-free, and unopened it keeps for four years — which makes it one of the most useful jars a pantry can hold. Ten seconds of effort separates you from a genuinely good plate of pasta.
The one technique that changes everything
If you take a single thing from this article, make it this: never heat pesto in a pan, and never use it straight from the jar onto drained pasta.
The Ligurian method is emulsification. Put two generous tablespoons of pesto in a warm serving bowl. Just before draining the pasta, add a tablespoon or two of the starchy cooking water to the pesto and stir into a loose cream. Tip in the hot pasta, toss vigorously for thirty seconds, and the sauce transforms — silky, glossy, clinging to every strand instead of sliding off. Finish with a thread of extra virgin olive oil and a few toasted pine nuts.
Direct heat, by contrast, blackens the basil and splits the oil. The pasta's own warmth is all the cooking a pesto ever needs.
What to serve it with
Pesto deserves pasta with texture. The bronze-drawn shapes from Pasta Zaccagni's artisan range — made in Miglianico, Abruzzo, from local wheat and Majella spring water, dried slowly at low temperature — have exactly the porous, rough surface that pesto needs to grip. The organic spaghetti is the crowd-pleaser; the organic fettuccine is arguably even better, its ribbons holding the sauce in every fold. Same producer, same philosophy, one genuinely coherent plate of food.
Beyond the classic plate, the jar earns its keep all week:
Gnocchi. The great Ligurian pairing. Toss off the heat with a splash of cooking water — creamy without being heavy.
Minestrone. A spoonful swirled into vegetable soup just before serving is the traditional Ligurian move, and one of the most underrated uses of a good pesto.
Bruschetta and sandwiches. Spread on toasted sourdough with sliced tomato and sea salt, or layered with burrata; in a ciabatta roll it replaces butter or mayonnaise outright.
Grilled fish and vegetables. A tablespoon alongside sea bass or salmon, or drizzled over chargrilled courgettes and asparagus. It also works as a 30-minute marinade for fish fillets.
Eggs. A teaspoon swirled into scrambled eggs just before they set is a two-minute gourmet breakfast.
Look after it once opened
Once open, refrigerate at 0–4°C and use within a few days. Two tricks preserve the colour and freshness: pour a thin layer of extra virgin olive oil over the surface before returning it to the fridge, and always bring the pesto to room temperature and stir well before serving. A mild, fruity oil from our Italian extra virgin olive oil collection is the right choice here — one that complements the basil rather than competing with it.
FAQ
What makes an authentic pesto Genovese? A high proportion of basil, extra virgin olive oil as the only fat, genuine PDO Italian cheeses, and pine nuts — with no fillers such as potato, sunflower oil or generic "hard cheese". The Zaccagni pesto contains 63% Italian basil and 23% extra virgin olive oil, with Grana Padano PDO and Pecorino Romano PDO.
Should I heat pesto? No. Pesto should never be cooked. Loosen it with a spoonful of hot pasta cooking water in a warm bowl, then toss with the drained pasta — the residual heat does the rest. Direct heat darkens the basil and splits the sauce.
Is this pesto gluten-free? Yes, it's gluten-free. Note it does contain milk, egg (from the Grana Padano's lysozyme), cashew nuts and pine nuts.
Which pasta shape is best for pesto? Traditionally trofie or trenette in Liguria; more broadly, any bronze-drawn pasta with a rough, porous surface. Zaccagni's bronze-drawn spaghetti and fettuccine both hold pesto beautifully.
How long does it keep? Unopened, 48 months. Once opened, refrigerate and use within a few days, ideally with a thin layer of olive oil over the surface.