Home Hummus Production


As we get ready to leave, in a few months, and head off to the States again, we are confronted with the prospect of terrible hardships in the form of hummus deprivation.

I know Americans think that they get “hummus” when they go into one of those Middle-Eastern places and order “hummus” off the menu. The truth, my friends, is they don’t. What they get is what an Israeli friend of mine once referred to as “a fun garlicky spread, but no resemblance to Hummus”. Part of what comes with culinary diversity is that some of the production methods of stuff disappear as they emigrate across the seas. Also, stuff gets adjusted to foreign palates and loses its original taste.

(I suspect the same is true for ethnic cuisines I’m less familiar with, and a Japanese friend assures me that sushi served in America tastes nothing like Japanese sushi. Now I’m curious).

Anyway: one thing that holds true for many Israelis is that we sure love our hummus, and therefore have to decide what to do when away from adequate sources. One solution is to adopt the “no hummus outside Israel” rule. Another is to adjust to the local varieties and give a fair chance to the strange designer dips (roasted pepper hummus, pesto hummus, and other travesties). We, as usual, are taking the third path, and Chad is specializing in making hummus at home. Here’s how he does that.

1 kg garbanzo beans
juice from one lemon
1 garlic clove
1 cup raw tchina
1/4 cup olive oil
Possible garnishes: ready tchina (with lemon juice, parsley and garlic); leftover cooked garbanzo beans; ful; hard boiled egg.

Let garbanzo beans soak in water for at least a night. Discard the water.

Cook them in a lot of new water until very, very tender. While they are cooking, periodically remove the foam from the surface of the pot. To see if they are ready, try squeezing one and see if it becomes mush. This is not a time for haste. They really have to get very soft.
Then, place them in your food processor with the tchina, some olive oil, a bit of lemon juice and – only if desired – the garlic clove. Add some of the cooking water to reach desired consistency. Process until smooth or semi-smooth (we like it a bit chunky).

Use a large spoon to “coat” a serving plate with hummus, then, in the middle, add a little mound of tchina, whole garbanzo beans, ful, or an egg cut in half.

White Beans with Carrot and Celery

A simple lunch for us today, making use of more celery stalks.

1 cup white beans
2 carrots
5-6 celery stalks
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp schoog (sort of a Yemenite salsa) or other hot sauce
2 tbsps soy sauce
2 tbsps dill

Place beans in large bowl, fill with water, and leave overnight.
Next morning, strain, and simmer in fresh water until tender. Set aside.
Chop carrots and celery stalks, so you have small pieces.
Heat up olive oil and add schoog or salsa. When you get teary-eyed standing over the wok, add soy sauce and vegetables. Toss and cook 7-8 minutes or until barely tender.
Then, add beans and dill, toss around for a couple of minutes – and, enjoy!

The Beans Hummus is Made of: Chickpeas

Looking for something nice to eat yesterday, I looked at the zuccini drawer, disappointed to see that there were not as many left as I thought. It’s funny to think that we were concerned whether we’d be able to finish off our Chubeza vegetable box every week. Then, my gaze fell on a jar of chickpeas, just standing there on the shelf and asking to be used. The word “hummus” came to mind, immediately, but then I started to think.

Hummus is a staple in Middle Eastern cuisine, and has many local and excellent variations. Several regions in the country are well known for the quality of their hummus; those “in the know” can argue the merits and shortcomings of hummus for hours. Some of the best places to eat hummus in Israel are the village of Abu Ghosh, which also holds beautiful music festivals (one of them coming up soon); the city of Jaffa, sporting Ali Karavan’s legendary hummus eatery; and several places in the Gallillee, including the old city of Akko (Acre). One of Israel’s online portals, Ynet, even polled its readers to find out where the best ten places for hummus were located. Yes, Israelis are obsessed with hummus; the city of Tel Aviv even holds an annual Hummus Festival, featuring the best places from all over the country. This year, the city has announced the festival will take place on the 23rd and 24th of August (and will receive live coverage from yours truly).

Which is why, attempting to make hummus at home is no easy feat, competing with all those culinary giants making it at their restaurants. I tried once; the result was grainy, and decent enough to be called “chickpea dip”, but certainly not hummus. In fact, what I’d made reminded me of the stuff they sell in the US, which is nothing like really good hummus at all, and includes such yuppified transgressions as ‘roasted pepper hummus’, and garlic-overdosed varieties. Hebrew readers, read all about hummus abroad, and try to maintain your calm. All ye American folks eating what you think passes as hummus, you’ve been wronged, and I suggest you come visit the Middle East and taste what hummus should really be like. My friend Holi, who lives in Leeds, in his anguish and despair, learned to make magnificent Hummus, so I know it can be produced outside the Middle East; but until I can get him to divulge the secret, my hummus remains an incomplete feat. If your curiosity can’t be appeased, and you can read Hebrew, here’s a recipe that looks promising, paying appropriate attention to the alchemy of hummus, too.

So, for now, what I made with my hummus was a nice little chickpea think with tomatoes, onions, chilis, and Biriyani Masala. I shudder to call it “chana Masala”, particularly following my recent complaints about the transgressions of hummus’ cultural transplants; nevertheless, it was good and nourishing. Chickpeas contain a generous amount of both starch and protein, and when cooked right, are extremely tasty.

Chickpeas with Tomatoes and Onions

5 cups of cooked chickpeas (to cook’em: place chickpeas in a large bowl and cover with water; discard after an hour. Add new water and let soak overnight. Then, discard water again, place in pot, add fresh water to cover, and cook for about an hour or so, occasionally lifting the strange white foam that keeps rising to the surface. Drain and keep the cooking liquid).
3 fresh, ripe tomatoes
1 medium-sized onion
1 tbsp ground chili pepper
1/4 cup Biriyani Masala spice mix
1 generous tablespoon organic tomato paste

Cover bottom of large wok with olive oil. When oil is hot, add chopped onion, chili, and Biriyani Masala. Cook until onions are golden and kitchen is fragrant and happy. Then, add the tomatoes and drained chickpeas. Mix up and cook for a while; then, add tomato paste and some water from the chickpeas. Let simmer about twenty minutes, then eat with great joy.

Azuki Bean Soup

Beans. Now that’s a touchy subject. Beans have been a bit maligned in the last decades’ diet fads, particularly low-carb regimes; they defy the neat and tidy categorization of food that’s “good for you” because it either has “just carbs” or, for folks who have more purist tendencies, “just protein”. They don’t allow you to neatly separate starch from protein; they deceive us. Why, cries the low-carb dieter, have we been told since childhood that beans are a good source of protein? They have so many carbs. More than protein. In fact, their composition is not all that different from whole grains. We can’t have them. Let’s bite into some more red meat.

No offense to the low-carb folks – and I know these regimes work really well for some folks – but beans are wonderful food. Yes, like many other foods, they contain a mixture of carbs and proteins. And also various vitamins, and minerals, and antioxidants. And they come in so many varieties, and are so versatile, and tasty.

The other common complaint against beans is their contribution to, well, the air quality in the room. Many folks suffer from flatulence after eating beans, particularly the larger varieties. Several pieces of advice have been offered for this solution; eating only fermented beans, soaking the beans well before cooking them (always a good idea as it shortens the cooking time), taking enzymes with the beans. I find that what works for me is, usually, eating beans on their own, or, if absolutely necessary, with just one type of whole grain. Combining beans with grains works better with the smaller types of beans, like lentils, mung beans and azuki beans; the larger ones I try to eat by themselves.

The following soup – all complete with this week’s selection of chubeza vegetables – is a great showcase for a tiny red bean – the azuki bean. Used extensively in Asian cooking as sweet red bean paste, azuki is rich in protein, as well as in iron, calcium and potassium (good for foot cramps). This nontraditional way of serving it has a soothing, earthy flavor, and works on its own as a soup or a hearty stew.

Azuki Bean Soup

2 cups azuki beans, preferrably pre-soaked in water for about 2-3 hours
3 carrots
3 zuccinis
2 turnips
1 beet
2 quarts of water or vegetable broth
1 garlic bulb
2 bay leaves
optional: 2 tablespoons of miso soup

If beans have been soaked, discard the water. Slice all vegetables into large, rustic cubes. Place them in a big pot with the water or vegetable broth, garlic and bay leaves, and bring to a boil. Then, cover the pot and let simmer for about an hour. If you wish, mix in two heaping tablespoons of miso at the end of cooking. If not sensitive to food combinations or wheat, eat with thick slices of whole wheat bread, or on top of mashed potatoes.

The Magical Study Aid Lentil Soup

So, the nice person brought us carrots. And tomatoes. And celery stalks. And celery root. And, I had to do some work over the weekend. So I recalled my very favorite culinary study aid.

Lentil soup.

Yes, it’s not a mistake. I work well with lentil soup. I don’t drink coffee – not any more – and while I am an obsessive consumer of herbal teas of all sorts, lentil soup is one of my foods of choice for times when I have to work. This is mostly due to nostalgia.

When I was a student in Jerusalem – living next door to the mythological Frida – my life was full of study-related stress. The well-known method of filling myself with black Turkish coffee would leave me jittery, irritable and, well, quite tired once the effect wore off. In addition, we were all encouraged to work in groups on our assignments. A typical assignment, in law school, would be a story, about half-a-page long, resembling a soap opera or a nonsense stand-up comedy, starring demented people with funny names like Mr. Mean and Mr. Belligerent, who incur the most improbable mishaps and complications in their personal and professional lives. We were expected to solve the mess and say who would win the case, and who would argue what. Some of us were quite good at this, and others found it difficult to dig all the important points out of the story. Me, I was often so fascinated with the crazy plot that I found it hard to focus on the legal issues it included; my mind would run wild, thinking about those people and why their lives had gone awry.

The solution to this problem was to invite my three or four favorite pals from school to my 1970s apartment and work on the assignment together, figuring that four brains were better than one. And it was Jerusalem in the winter, and folks would ride two buses to get to the fun-but-slummy neighborhood where I lived, and they would be cold, and wet. So I would feed them soup.

I had several lentil soup recipes, and they all served me well; this one, I think, is a combination of two different recipes. Naturally, this works really well with many sorts of vegetables one might have in one’s house, and it becomes even better after a day or two. Give it a try; it’s really good stuff. And who knows, perhaps if we fed it to Mr. Mean and Mr. Belligerent, they’d stop arguing, cancel the lawsuit, and we could all sleep in peace.

Magical Study Aid Lentil Soup

Ingredients
Olive oil
5-6 Garlic Cloves
1 large yellow onion
3 tomatoes
3-4 carrots
2 cups of black/green lentils
3 celery stalks, preferrably with the leaves
2 tbsp cumin
1 tbsp curcum (Middle Eastern yellow spice – optional)
a handful of coarsely chopped parsley
water, or vegetable broth
grated good quality goat cheese (optional)

You could soak the lentils beforehand, and it is preferrable, but not essential. If you decide to do it, simply place them in a bowl with water; they’ll swell up. Discard the water.
Start with a large soup pot. Heat it over the stove a bit, then pour some olive oil in. When the oil is hot and nearly smoking, chop in garlic cloves and onions, and add cumin, curcum and some of the parsley. Stir until the vegetables are golden and the onions begin to brown.
Then, add the lentils, and chop in the tomatoes, carrots and celery stalks. stir in a bit and mix with the garlic, onion and spices. After everything seems mixed and warmed up, add water or broth to cover. Bring to a boil, then put the lid on and cook for another, say, forty minutes, or until the lentils are very tender. If you make this recipe with red lentils, they’ll all dissolve and become puree by now, but black and green lentils tend to retain their shape even when they are tender. Sprinkle the remaining parsley and, if you so wish, the goat cheese, and serve in deep bowls or in large mugs.

There’s an interesting twist to this soup. If it’s made with less water, you basically end up with a lentil dish which can be served, cold, as a salad. Also yummy, but I find that, to serve this cold, you need to slightly inrease the amount of each spice.