Passport & Plate - "horrible daughter" Hummus
Palestine | Wednesday, March 4, 2015 | 3 photos
Ingredients
2 cans (28 ounces total) chickpeas, drained
4 cloves garlic
1/3 cup lemon juice (from about 2 lemons)
1/3 cup tahini
1/3 cup olive oil
1/3 cup water
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
How to prepare this recipe1. Place the garlic into the food processor and pulse until chopped. Add the lemon juice, tahini and olive oil. Combine until smooth and creamy, about 15 seconds. Add the chickpeas and let the machine run for 30-45 seconds.
2. Add the water to the food processor and from here, let your machine run for at least 60 seconds, up to three minutes. The longer it runs, the creamier and more luscious your final product will be.
3. At the end, add the salt and pepper, stir and taste.* Refrigerate for 2 hours (or overnight) for best flavor.**
4. Top with a sprinkle of red pepper flakes and paprika and a generous pour of olive oil.
Notes:
*This recipe is flexible. Adjust the flavorings to your preference. If you prefer a more lemony hummus, add the zest of one lemon. A few additional chopped garlic cloves can be added for a stronger garlic punch. Roasted garlic cloves may be used as well.
**If you are going to refrigerate your hummus, wait to adjust salt after refrigeration. The flavors get more intense and thus less additional salt [if any] may be needed.
The story behind this recipeHummus. A simple food, yes? Well, in my world, hummus is more than just chickpeas, tahini, garlic, lemon juice and olive oil. Way more than the sum of its parts. So, here’s the thing. For the majority of my life, my father has owned a market. Jerusalem Market sells lots of delicious food – chocolates, nuts, oils, cured meats, cheeses. He also makes amazing food – spinach pies, tabouli, baba ghanouj and.. hummus. He’s Palestinian and the food he was raised on is the food he loves to share with the world.
He is a from-scratch purist, he was a food snob before it was cool. Tabouli chopped by hand, hummus made from dried and cooked chickpeas, homemade dough, no details are missed. This food was a mainstay in my childhood. It became a broken record, annoying, cloying, repetitive.
And then I moved away to New York. Hummus became my lost love. Tabouli my missing pen pal. Pita bread my missing blanket of comfort. So I cooked the foods I missed. One day, after scooping up a bite of dinner, I felt horrible. A knot in my stomach grew bite by bite. MY hummus was way better than my father’s. The food that funded most of my childhood. That brought praise in from all angles. A food this man has been making for more years than I’ve been alive.
If you are a first generation kid, you probably understand the guilt that comes with this kind of reaction. Respecting your elders is not just a general idea, it’s serious childhood teaching. You are supposed to appreciate everything your parents supply to your life, and repay them in any way possible as an adult. What kind of ungrateful daughter thinks her hummus is more delicious than her talented cook of a father? And even worse, to admit it.
Over time, the melodrama has waned and I realized all the glorious aspects to hummus. Hummus, in a way, is how I can travel to Palestine. It's how I connect to so many people. When the politics of the land limit your travel, the food, family and lovely people can teach you plenty.
