I always start by boiling the pasta in salted water—maybe the single most important step for a pasta salad with real flavor. As the pasta nears al dente, I toss in the peas for the last minute or so, just long enough to bring out their color and keep their snap. Drain everything and spread it out across a big plate or tray. That quick blast of air stops the cooking and keeps things from turning sticky or soft.

While the vegetables cool, I grab a roomy bowl and whisk together the pesto, mayonnaise, and lemon juice. Tiny specks of lemon zest go in with the dressing, turning it electric and fragrant. It should be creamy, tangy, and green—almost like it wants to wake you up.

Once the pasta is barely warm (room temp is perfect), it all goes into the bowl with the dressing: pasta, peas, tomatoes, sliced spring onion, a scattering of red pepper flakes. I switch to tossing with two big spoons, folding gently so nothing gets smashed. The salad should be glossy and everything softly coated, but not bogged down by the dressing.

Right before serving, I tear in lots of fresh basil. This is the moment where everything really comes alive. If you taste a forkful now, you’ll catch the crunch of peas, the sweet burst of tomato, the lemony zip, all sitting pretty on that creamy, herby base.