Like many classic Italian recipes, the beauty of pesto is its simplicity. Hailing from Genoa in Italy’s north-west region of Liguria, pesto is traditionally made from olive oil, basil, garlic, pine nuts, salt and a hard cheese such as grana padano, pecorino, parmesan or parmigiano reggiano cheese – and it’s the freshness and quality of the ingredients that make or break it.
Shelf-stable supermarket varieties, of course, can’t compete with the vibrancy of a pesto pounded to order in a Genoa trattoria. But which pantry-friendly, stir-and-go jars come closest to capturing the Ligurian coast magic?
I gathered nine supermarket pestos (only basil products were chosen; I excluded “red” pestos of the Sicilian pesto rosso variety) and sampled them tossed through al dente penne, spread on warm focaccia and swilled by the spoonful straight from the jar. Each pesto was assessed on the balance of its salty, herbal, nutty, cheesy and garlicky flavours; whether the texture of the pesto bonded well with the pasta or left a gooey oil slick in its wake; and how much of the basil, cheese and garlic’s aromatic freshness sprung from the jar. A nice green hue didn’t hurt either.
For their jarred convenience, most of the products – bar three – would be pleasant enough for a speedy pasta. But which pesto was besto? These are the results of the great pesto testo.
Best overall
Barilla Pesto alla Genovese 190g, $5 ($2.63 per 100g), available from Coles and Woolworths
Score: 8.5/10
Like many supermarket pestos, this big-name Italian-made product uses cashews instead of pine nuts – likely a cost-saving measure, as the fiddly processing requirements make pine nuts a premium ingredient. It does, however, contain 5% parmigiano reggiano, which leaves a pleasantly lingering taste. It is lighter in colour, less textural and more emulsified than any other products tested – all good things that gave this pesto a creaminess and sweetness that lends itself not only to penne, but to sandwiches, roast chicken, salad dressings, pizza and wherever else you like to throw a little pesto. It is rich, balanced and aromatic – my life’s ambition.
Best value
Remano Basil Pesto 190g, $1.79 ($0.94 per 100g), available from Aldi
Score: 6.5/10
Though oilier and looser than most other entries on this list, this bewilderingly affordable Aldi product bounces from the jar swinging fists of basil and cheese, as if Popeye was powered by pesto, not spinach. It lacks a garlic kick, which is overcompensated by too much acidity – both points which hold Aldi’s offering back from top rankings. But the 1% inclusion of pine nuts (buoyed by 4% cashews) has a surprisingly positive impact on the overall flavour. Herbaceous bang for staggeringly few bucks.
And the rest
Sacla Classic Basil Pesto 190g, $5.90 ($3.11 per 100g), available from Coles, Harris Farm and Woolworths
Score: 7/10
Do not eat this straight from the jar with a spoon. You might ask, who does this? Me, your dedicated pesto taster. This is probably the saltiest of the tested products, when consumed unadulterated; but stirred through pasta, it’s an otherwise keenly balanced blend. Parmigiano reggiano and pecorino romano shine through, as do the pine nuts and basil, plus a faint hint of garlic that’s notably absent from most competitors. A harmonious and vibrant sauce worthy of the name pesto.
Barilla Vegan Pesto 195g, $5 ($2.56 per 100g), available from Coles and Woolworths
Score: 7/10
To make this pesto entirely plant-based, Barilla has ditched the cheese, which means some depth and complexity is missing. There is, however, a stronger presence of blended cashews in place of the dairy, which makes this a creamy and thickly emulsified paste. Capped off with a happy basil zing, you’d be hard-pressed to pick this from its cheesy sibling once stirred through warm pasta.
Coles Basil Pesto 190g, $1.95 ($1.03 per 100g), available from Coles
Score: 6/10
With an ingredient list that includes both grana padano and pecorino romano cheeses, and a near-equal mix of cashew and pine nuts, this pesto wields an appealing savoury complexity and a nicely emulsified texture. Cons: it was a touch too acidic, and with only a distant herby aniseed whisper – despite a substantial 29% basil content. Pros: this pesto clings adoringly to warm pasta, and is pleasant enough, considering its low price point.
Sacla “Free From” Basil Pesto 190g, $5.90 ($3.11 per 100g), available from Coles and Woolworths
Score: 5.5/10
While the other vegan entry on this list offsets its lack of cheese with amped-up nut-based creaminess, this dairy-free pesto goes hard on the herbs. Cashews and pine nuts offer a textural contrast, but it’s only the basil bringing anything to the party. Ultimately it tastes like a coarse-textured but nice-smelling basil oil. But there are worse things to toss through your pasta.
Providore D’Italia Italian Basil & Pinenut Pesto 195g, $6.50 ($3.33 per 100g) available from Woolworths
Score: 5/10
Loose, grainy and oil-laden. I have dire first impressions of this jar. But while the sandy texture persists, there’s ultimately nothing objectionable about the flavour of this Italian-made pesto. Grana padano, pecorino and pine nuts are accounted for on the ingredients list, as are potato flakes, mystifyingly. But it’s the bland sunflower oil slicked on the top of the jar and left pooling at the bottom of the pasta bowl that disappoints me.
Leggo’s Basil Pesto 190g, $5.30 ($2.79 per 100g), available from Coles and Woolworths
Score: 4/10
It’s difficult to pick what’s more disheartening about this bespeckled pesto: that its basil had no hint of herby freshness, tasting to me like old steamed spinach, or the bitter aftertaste that lingered for minutes after a mouthful. The ingredients list almonds and cashews (6% combined) and 9% pecorino – but they seem to have lost their flavour on their way to the jar. While not the worst entry on the list, this is the kind of overprocessed pesto that gives the genre a bad reputation.
Jamie Oliver Green Pesto 190g, $6.80 ($3.58 per 100g), available from Woolworths
Score: 2/10
Jamie Oliver knows pesto. The chef, author and presenter with a passion for all things Italian has displayed his mortar and pestle-pounding skills in a number of his books and TV shows. It’s therefore surprising and disappointing that what appears in a jar of pesto – the most expensive, per 100g, of all the tested products – with his name and face on the label is dry, grassy and sandy. Acidity drowns out whatever freshness the basil might have brought, and the strange texture – a far cry from the “silky smooth finish” promised above the chef’s signature on the label – leaves bits of grit and rough strips of vegetable matter stuck between my teeth. Jamie, I love you, but I do not love this.
