Hummus bi tahina

Anyone who knows me knows I have many favorite foods. But if you made me come up with a favorite of all-time, a king food, my opinion of the greatest edible thing ever, I would have to say Hummus bi tahina.

 

That simple beige paste of delight, made of chick peas, garlic, lemon juice, tahini, and olive oil, is as natural and perfect as a food can be. And it's very healthy, as long as you don't eat the whole batch of course, which I have done before on many occasions. Oh well...better than eating a whole cheesecake, right?

 

We westerners usually call it hummus, but that just means "chick pea" in Arabic and so I used the longer more accurate name above which means "chick peas with sesame seed paste".

 

Nobody really knows who invented hummus, but many cultures claim to have done so. We know hummus in one form or another is very, very old. Most probably it came from the Middle East, and from there spread throughout the Mediterranean and into India and beyond. There is evidence that the chick pea was cultivated in the Middle East and North Africa at least 7,000 years ago. By Roman times the chick pea was well integrated into the diets of the entire area. Olives and lemons are also ancient crops and they go together so well, how could anyone keep them apart for long :) Could you walk out of your hut and breathe in the warm air and behold the lemon tree and the olive tree and the chick pea...um...bush and NOT contrive hummus? No, you couldn't and neither could our ancestors. Much like the invention of wine some 8,000 years ago, it just makes so much sense and it's so easy, why not?

 

Growing up I never realized how important this legume was and is to the world, as the only time I ever saw it was in my mom's three-bean salad. And of course we used the Spanish name garbonzo. It's called ceci in Italian, gram in India, and it's botanical name is Cicer arietinum in case you care. Whatever you call it, please pass me some.

 

I imagine Hummus bi tahina was probably "invented" lots of different times in different areas, but at least a rustic version first appeared in the hazy pre-history of the pre-Christian, pre-Islam, pre-Judaism Middle East. That area has been a crossroads of humanity for generations uncounted - indeed it was one of the first places us humans went when we left Africa.

 

The traditional recipe for hummus bi tahina doesn't vary too much nowadays: the Arabs garnish it with parsley, the Egyptians add a touch of cumin. Often times it is made roughly, with the chick peas mashed with a fork rather than puréed.

 

Any way you make it, I love it.

 

We've got the best hummus outside the Middle East in our area, lucky for me. Especially in certain areas of Dearborn. My favorite hummus ever has to be that of New Yasmeen Bakery, although Al Ameer (The Prince) is a close second and I loved the La Shish version may it rest in peace. My recipe is very similar, not quite as good but certainly passable...as I said, I love ALL hummus.

 

Here's how I make it:

 

2 15 oz cans of Chick peas, drained. Every brand will give you a different texture and flavor of hummus, and there is a great deal of variation in quality within a brand as well. I really want to try cooking the chick peas from scratch sometime to see the difference...I've heard that's what the restaurants do.

 

1/4 cup olive oil. I use a fruity yellowish version from Lebanon which I buy at New Yaz in bulk.

 

1/3 cup tahini. You have to get really good tahini. I use the stuff from Syria or Lebanon that is very thin, almost like water.

 

Juice of two lemons. I like my hummus pretty tart and also fairly thin like New Yaz makes it. Lemons vary in acid and sweetness so taste test.

 

2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped. You can use one if you like, but I go for broke.

 

Sea salt. Just enough, not too much. Hummus shouldn't be too salty.

 

Put these ingredients into a food processor (hummus is too thick for a blender) and process until VERY smooth. I let the Cuisinart run for a good 4-5 minutes until the motor starts smoking. You want it velvety, dammit.

 

If the hummus is too thick, as mine often is for my taste, you must thin it out with water or more lemon juice. This is tricky because I think water dilutes the taste too much and changes the texture. And too much lemon juice will make it too sour. You could add more thin tahini but then it will start tasting too tahini-ish. So it's a balancing act here. I'm not sure how the restaurants get that perfect texture, maybe they know a secret being that their recipe comes down from the ages immortal.