hummus three ways (and a poem)

Chickpeas are easily my favorite whole food.  They’re amazingly versatile, always delicious, and about as healthy as anything can be.  So I decided yesterday that I would make hummus.  But first, the backstory.

my basil, just before bolting and after trimming

Upon returning from New Mexico I found that my basil had begun to bolt.  Basically, this means that it had started flowering, and the consequences are dire.  Once the flowers emerge the stems become slightly woody and the leaves begin to take on an acrid, licorice-like flavor.  Not good.  Not good at all.  If all of the leaves are harvested right away before the bolting process has completely taken over then the basil may still be good, but it has certainly passed it’s peak.  You can read more if you like, but essentially this happens when the weather gets hot.  Several days of temperatures topping 95F, like we had last week, certainly qualify.  So I stripped my two basil plants naked and started to think about what to do with the leaves.  Pesto (frozen, in ice cube trays) works well, and most of the basil will end up this way.  This also seemed a prime opportunity to make my favorite variant of hummus: sun-dried tomato and basil.

harvested basil

Now to the main story: making hummus.  The process should not be reduced to simple recipe; it is more zen than cooking.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s dead simple.  But it’s much more fruitful to simply pay attention and let the process, the ingredients, and your intuition guide you.  In that spirit, I decided that instead of a recipe a poetic description would do well.  I was inspired by “How to Make Rhubarb Wine” by Ted Kooser. (And by “inspired” I mean that I totally ripped off Kooser’s amazing poem.)

How to Make Hummus

Go to the pantry some morning,
buzzing from daybreak coffee,
and pick up the bag of garbanzos.
Drown them in water
in a pan on the stove.
(As many as you like.
This is no time for measurements.)
Be sure to cover by a couple inches;
these are thirsty beans.
Head off to work,
with a smile and a dream
of the tasty things to come.
When you return,
eyes weary and head sore,
flick on the stove
and crack the lid on the pot
just a hair.
(Because you let it
boil over last time.)
Now relax: have a shower, maybe a
glass of wine and a light dinner.
But don’t forget the beans!
They need to be stirred,
and make sure they are still submerged.

When they’re soft and begin
to shed their skins then it’s time to
drain and rinse in cool cool water.
But keep some of the liquid.
You may need it later,
if when mixing the paste becomes too dry.
Gather up the usual suspects:
garlic,
salt,
oil,
lemon juice,
and whatever else seems good at the time.
Last time there were chipotles,
but now you’re in a purist mood.
So a bit of tahini,
from the jar in the back of the fridge,
will be more than sufficient.
Now mix the beans in the food processor,
adding first a bit of oil and salt,
and the garlic.
And a smidgen of the lemon juice.
Have a taste of the smooth paste
and let it sink into your tongue.
This is the moment at which you
must concentrate.
Not enough salt.
And a bit more garlic would do well.
There.  That’s better.
Now throw in the extras.
And taste again.
But don’t worry too much,
because it’s already good.
And it will only get better.

You can used canned beans if you like, but be sure to drain and rinse well to get all of the muck off of them. I prefer freshly cooked beans for their mealy texture, and I cook beans often enough that it really doesn’t seem like such a chore. I’m often asked why I bother to make hummus (I make it a lot) when there are so many inexpensive varieties at the store. My answer to that is “try it.” Once you’ve had homemade hummus I doubt that you will go back. The difference is amazing, and most people who have had homemade hummus can’t stomach the stuff in the plastic tub very easily. In fact, I recall a friend of mine throwing an entire tub away just after opening it because he had become accustomed to the good stuff. So try it! It’s well worth the effort. (And if you’ve never made it before and really want a recipe, just let me know and I’ll be happy to oblige.)

Myself, I used an entire bag of chickpeas and made three types: traditional, basil and sun-dried tomato, and roasted beet with goat cheese.  I dare you to spot the beet hummus (I used white chioggia beets).

three varieties of hummus: traditional, basil and sun-dried tomato, and beet

And there are now pesto cubes in the freezer, to be enjoyed when fresh basil from my fire escape planter is only a memory.

fresh squares of pesto headed for the freezer