Here’s why and how a mortar and pestle—the most traditional tool—makes pesto that’s creamier, greener, and way more flavorful than a food processor.
After the Fourth of July, when I’ve had my fill of seared hot dogs and flame-kissed burgers, I turn to what I consider summer’s real glory: pesto season. I grow an entire bed of basil, including Genovese, lemon, Thai, and even lesser-known varieties like purple ruffles, just to keep up with my habit. Pesto goes on almost everything in my kitchen in peak summer, making everything pop with nothing more than a dollop or drizzle here and there: grilled vegetables, charred chicken thighs, pasta, pizza, sandwiches, and scrambled eggs. And while I love how quickly I can blitz a batch in a food processor, I’ve learned that the silkiest, most flavorful, most sauce-like pesto is most easily achieved with a mortar and pestle.
It’s not just me being precious about tradition. It’s the best technique that Serious Eats culinary director Daniel Gritzer landed on after rounds of testing for his pesto alla Genovese recipe.
What Exactly Is Pesto?
At its core, pesto is a raw, emulsified sauce made by crushing fresh basil, pine nuts, cheese, and olive oil into a smooth, spoonable paste. The most famous version, pesto alla Genovese, originates from the Ligurian city of Genoa in Italy. It’s intensely aromatic, deeply herbal, and vibrantly green. A great pesto should be smooth and creamy, not a pool of oil with bits of chopped-up basil suspended in it; it should taste fully integrated, not like individual ingredients tossed together; and it should cling to pasta like a proper sauce, not fall off in flecks.
The name pesto itself comes from the Italian verb pestare, meaning to mash or crush, which is precisely what a mortar and pestle is designed to do. Even the word pestle shares the same root. A food processor, by contrast, chops and minces, which fundamentally alters both texture and flavor.
A Breakdown of the Test Results
To see just how much the tool matters, Daniel tested both methods side by side, using the same ingredients, the same ratios, and the same process. Daniel observed striking differences that go far beyond aesthetics. The methods affect texture, flavor, and how well the sauce actually performs on food. Here’s what Daniel found:
Creamier texture: The pesto made in a mortar and pestle had an emulsified quality, with a thickened, cohesive texture more like a thin mayonnaise or creamy dressing, and not at all like a broken sauce. It bathed each noodle when tossed with pasta and was much smoother, not gravelly. In contrast, the food processor version had fine, gritty bits that clung like glitter instead of flowing like sauce.
Deeper flavor: Crushing with a pestle releases essential oils from the basil, garlic, and pine nuts that the blades of a food processor struggle to mimic. The flavors mingle in a way that feels fully integrated and cohesive.
Better color retention: When you slowly work in olive oil by hand with the mortar and pestle method, you avoid the color-dulling heat and micro-aeration that’s introduced from the whirling blades of a food processor. The mortar batch had a fresh, pea-green hue, while the food processor version was slightly duller.
The food processor pesto tasted good, and came together in under a minute. But the hand-pounded version made with a marble mortar and wood pestle was in a different league: smoother in texture, more vivid in flavor, and fully emulsified, with a luxurious quality the processor version just couldn’t match.
What Mortar and Pestle Should You Use?
At home, I use a molcajete, a traditional Mexican mortar carved from volcanic stone, that my husband’s father gifted me after a visit to family in Oaxaca. It’s heavier and rougher in texture than the smooth marble mortar Daniel recommends, but it still does the job beautifully. The coarse surface helps grip and break down basil leaves, garlic, and pine nuts with satisfying efficiency.
That said, you don’t need a family heirloom to make excellent pesto. Daniel tested a range of mortars from Thai granite to smooth ceramic to the classic Ligurian marble style. His top pick for pesto is the traditional marble mortar paired with a rounded wooden pestle: smooth enough not to tear delicate basil leaves, but hefty enough to grind ingredients into a creamy emulsion. Just make sure yours is wide enough to hold the ingredients comfortably and stable enough not to wobble as you grind.
A great mortar and pestle doesn’t have to be expensive, and it won’t sit idle. I use mine for everything from garlicky aioli to fresh curry pastes, romesco, guacamole, muhammara, and even spice rubs. It’s functional, versatile, and probably the most beautiful piece of equipment on my kitchen counter.
The Easy Steps to Make Pesto With a Mortar and Pestle
Making pesto by hand takes more effort than tossing everything into a food processor, but it’s a method that rewards you with far better results. Here’s how to do it:
1. Start with garlic and pine nuts. Pound them into a coarse paste using the mortar and pestle. This forms the flavorful base of the sauce.
2. Add basil gradually. Work in small handfuls at a time, along with pinches of coarse salt. The salt acts as a natural abrasive, helping to break down the leaves. Use both a circular grinding motion and gentle bashing to reduce the basil into a vibrant green paste.
3. Let the basil’s moisture help. Don’t worry about drying your leaves completely. Small amounts of water clinging to just-washed basil can actually help build the emulsion.
4. Incorporate the cheese. Stir in grated aged cheese like Parmigiano Reggiano (or Pecorino, if you prefer) until fully combined.
5. Finish with olive oil. Add it a little at a time, working it in with the pestle to maintain a creamy, cohesive texture.
It’s not a five-second spin in the mini-prep, but the result is a true sauce, not a chunky topping. The pesto will cling to pasta like silk and seep into grilled vegetables.
Why It’s Worth the Work
If you’re in a rush, by all means, use the food processor. But if you’re swimming in basil, have 10 extra minutes, take the slower road with a mortar and pestle. You’ll end up with a basil sauce that’s smoother, richer, and more vibrant in every way. Your pasta (and your summer) will thank you.
