Meeting my old pal Antonio (whom I hadn’t seen in some 25 years) when our ship docked in Portovenere was a real treat. And he’d been to this small coastal town before, so he showed us around. Among our stops, this small store (one of many) that sold jars of their homemade pesto. (Portovenere is in Liguria, as is Genoa, the birthplace cosi detto of pesto.) Look, you can even see a mortar full of the basil-garlic-pinenut ambrosia there on the right. We had some samples (wonderful) and Antonio bought a jar to take home to his family. Now, come basil season, I know how to adjust my old recipe to get it closer to the real thing.