Classic hummus

Thick, creamy and a little chunky

Published originally on my blog on 29 April 2012

I'm in my living room, sitting in front of my computer. I have a cold, one of those colds that you least expect to get because the past few days have been so sunny, spring was in the air and flowers were blooming and the idea of going out when you've just had a shower and your hair was all wet, was a good idea.

But now, some days later, my nose is running, my throat hurts, my ears are buzzing, I have a slight fever and I can barely keep my eyes open. Outside, the weather seems to be in sync with how I feel. It is raining like it never rains in Holland, with thunders that you rarely hear when you're living in this part of the world. How I miss that sound.

The worse thing of all, apart from the fact that I can hardly speak let alone sing, is that I can barely taste a thing. Not that I have much of an appetite but even my tea is devoid of flavor, even after I've poured in it more than enough of my favorite honey. I'm daydreaming of food that tastes bold and bright and adventurous and new but, alas, I can only eat chicken soup.

I'm one of those people to whom food is not just for survival. I love food with all my heart, and being in this state saddens me. I know it sounds weird but it does and, all I'm dreaming right now, is the food I had a couple of days ago, when I still had all five of my senses, the last thing I cooked and photographed for the blog; hummus.

I love hummus; with the garlic and the chickpeas and the tahini and my own personal touch, the sumac. Oh, it's torturous to have in the fridge and not being able to taste it. Torture, I tell you! But that can't stop me from writing about it or sharing it with you.

So, let me start by setting things straight and by demolishing another false idea about Greek food. Hummus is not Greek. Many people think it is, but we don't usually eat it in Greece, at least not too many people do. It is a Middle Eastern recipe which is also very popular in Cyprus.

I like my hummus thick and creamy, not stodgy. It needs to have some miniscule legume pieces still intact, giving it some added texture; it needs to have a lot of garlic and lemon juice balancing the sweetness of the chickpeas, and a generous amount of that divine sesame paste that is beyond amazing in flavor; it needs to be highly aromatic, taking my senses by storm and not just be another dip you simply dunk your bread in; it needs to be creamy enough to be able to scoop with a piece of pita but thick enough that it doesn't run down the side of my hand.
I hate runny hummus, or runny any dip for that matter.

I know, there are so many recipes for hummus out there, who needs another one, right? Well, I don't care. I love hummus and I need to share this with you now. So, since I can't just go open my fridge and savor my own, please make this for yourselves, and enjoy it for me, will you?

Hummus

If you choose to make the hummus with dried chickpeas, something I always do since it results in a superior-tasting dip, you'll need to start the night before by soaking the chickpeas. I know it sounds like extra work, but seriously, it is worth it. Of course, using canned chickpeas is easier and you can be more spontaneous, preparing it whenever you feel like it. Your choice, really. Below, I include instructions for both.

It's the perfect mezes to accompany either meat or fish. Serve it with fresh baked pita or plain bread, or an array of fresh seasonal vegetables.