Tag Archives: chickpeas

Cahiers de hoummous: chickpea shortage looming, discipline advised

In the past 10 years, domestic demand for chickpeas in the United States has gone from less than 47,000 tons to nearly 200,000 tons a year. Between 2015 and 2016 alone, demand doubled. From 2016 to 2017, US acreage planted in chickpeas increased by an estimated 86%.

In 2017, Americans ate 1.85 pounds of chickpeas apiece, up from 1.21 pounds the year before.

Now, there is word of shortages — droughts in the US and India. Prices rising,

Have we overdone this hummus thing?

Chickpea discipline is needed.  Roll your own. Don’t eat too much. Wait until next season. (Pray for rain?)

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Cahiers de Hoummous: Dispatches from the field

From the field comes this report:

Saturday night we went to this Israeli  restaurant in New Orleans called Shaya. They had asparagus hummus, which was hummus topped with a blob of greengarlic, snap peas, sumac, and cabernet vinaigrette. We also had a cauliflower hummus which had a topping of caramelized onions, parsley and cilantro. And they offered a tahini hummus, which we did not sample.

“Hummus topped with”: that’s the ticket. But then, was the underlying purée of chickpeas, or not?

Undeniably though, this dispatch goes beyond nomenclature. Asparagus, cauliflower: right there’s some boon companions for chickpeas.

And, “tahini hummus” makes the nomenclature point. It’s an acceptable rendering of “hummus b’tahini”. It’s chickpeas with tahini. Not tahini instead of chickpeas.

 

Cahiers de Hoummous: The BBC leaps into the fray

Apparently, a recent Cahiers de Hoummous post here provoked the BBC. Last week, it published another one of those who-invented-hummus? articles. (For one of the best in the genre, see Church of the Chickpea.)

Demonstrating that the author had read that recent MidLaw cahier, the BBC article opened up with the fundamental axiom: “The recipe for hummus b’tahini (as the dish is named: ‘hummus’ simply means ‘chickpeas’), consists of chickpeas, tahini, garlic and lemon.” (No mention here of the possibility of pumpkins or beets.)

For 9 pages, it reviews the perennial hummus questions: smooth or lumpy? oil in it or on it? what condiments and accompaniments? Chickpeas, the BBC agrees, are some serious beans. They go back 10,000 years, it says. They are indubitably without peers among legumes. (With apologies to red kidney beans, chickpeas’ only real rivals among legumes are Edgecombe County peanuts. (Yes, Virginia, those nuts are legumes).) And, there is a not-to-be-missed discussion, mid-article, of the traditional practice of serving hummus in red clay bowls with raised edges. The hummus is whisked against the edges and mounded in a way that promotes good pita-dipping. The texture of the hummus (as between too liquid and too thick) is gauged by how well it mounds around the edge.

Inevitably, one supposes, the BBC asks “Who invented hummus?” But, was it really necessary? MidLaw put this old quarrel to rights long ago. Hummus originated in Greensboro at an indeterminant date, sometime in the last 10,000 years.

Along the way, this newest article also sets more rabbits running. Is hummus a Greek thing? (MidLaw has addressed this.) Did hummus actually originate in India or Nepal? (Admittedly, a new one.)

In the end, they found a guy in Haifa who shrugged (a sure sign of authority) and said:

It doesn’t matter where it’s from. What matters is the way it’s been co-opted and sold commercially in grocery stores in plastic containers. “That’s not hummus!” he said, tearing a piece of pita. “There should be a sign on that humus the way there is on “kosher shrimp.” It should be labeled “fake hummus”. There should be an international law.

The guy is a MidLawfarian.

Roll your own!

[A tip of the MidLaw cap to C.L. Dibble for the BBC referral.]
[Special Note: Be on the lookout for a reprise of MidLaw’s celebrated “Yuletide Hummus” cahier. It’s coming any day now in response to overwhelming demand!]

Cahiers de Hoummous: Pumpkin hummus? Pumpkus!

[Wherein MidLaw reprises a holiday favorite cahier from Christmas past.]

They speak to me at Christmas time of pumpkin hummus.

It is the get of the multi-culture. Some at this season reprise even the beet fallacy.

Look it up. There is no plural of hummus.

Hummus is of chickpeas.

Rightly, we contest dried versus canned chickpeas. And then we conclude that either can do. And avidly, we pour into our food processors other pulses, other beans, and other vegetables to mash them up. But those are not hummus. They are dips and pastes and sauces. That must find their own names.

Anything else is the theft of a word that is the property of the chickpea. Chickpeas, garbanzo beans, ceci nuts, sometimes also known as Egyptian peas, Bengal grams, and Kabuli chana: they own hummus.

You may flavor your hummus as you will. After all, you are not choosing a plastic cup on a supermarket shelf. This is MidLaw. You are rolling your own. Radical self-determination is the essence of MidLaw Mind.

So, roasted red peppers are fine. A soupcon of vinegar from time to time perhaps. Frankly, pumpkin spice sounds a bit effete, but OK. For flavor. That’s up to you.

But do not take a simple and sturdy word that has stood for millennia. It does not belong to you. “Hummus” comes from the Arabic word meaning “chickpeas.” It does not mean pumpkins.

Pumpkus?

CHRISTMAS NOTE: The single question that MidLaw receives most often is, “What is your recipe for hummus?” Longtime MidLaw readers know that hummus culture is a journey, not a destination. Lifelong learning is at the core of MidLaw Mind. Revelation is continuing. Still, in recognition of the season and feeling the onset of winter, MidLaw will bring back key hummus-recipe-and-tips links for an upcoming holiday special. You must return to MidLaw for the holidays.

Cahiers de Hoummous: Hummus, an old-fashioned Thanksgiving tradition, and celebration of differences

mssabbaha2MidLaw was the first to suggest that hummus may have originated in Greensboro.

And, just as there are those who may disagree, there may also be those who disagree that the traditional centerpiece of an old-fashioned North Carolina Thanksgiving Dinner is a big mess of hummus with pita bread and all the trimmings (drizzled olive oil, toasted pine nuts, parsley, za’atar, smoked paprika, boiled eggs, and sumac).

MidLaw does not shun or reject those who have a different point of view. The essence of The MidLaw Way is to welcome differences with respect, a willingness to listen, and openness to learning something new.

There are many traditional family hummus recipes and celebrated regional differences — such as those between Eastern NC hummus and Piedmont hummus. Along The MidLaw Way,  “there are countless paths, each with its own landmarks, its own route.”

MidLaw gladly welcomes differences and is grateful for them in the great American tradition of Thanksgiving. (Was it the Native Americans or the Pilgrims who brought the hummus to the first Thanksgiving?)

And in that grand spirit, MidLaw wishes a Happy Thanksgiving to all its readers, worldwide!

Cahiers de Hoummous: I am a moveable feast

I learned recently that there are more organisms — each one a separate little fellow — in the last two inches of my colon than all the human beings who have ever existed.

They work together, these fellows, for good. Shaping up digestion, toning up the immune system, and, apparently, limiting weight gain.

When things go wrong, you will regret it, but when they are treated right, the little fellows go about their business without complaint, promoting harmony, efficacy, and a sense of well-being.

Sauerkraut and yogurt are particularly popular with them, but they like most kinds of healthy organic foods. Vegetables mostly. They like diversity.

Not surprisingly, chickpeas are popular. So is hummus.

Knowing that they are down there – all 70 trillion* of them – going about their business and mine – bumping, jostling, collaborating, getting along – pleases me.

I am a moveable feast, a peaceable kingdom.

*  Figures are approximate and may vary by tens of trillions in either direction.

Cahiers de Hoummous: Hummus Day’s a-comin’

We are once more in the annual run down to International Hummus Day.

The approach of the day has brought forward more of the encyclopedic hummus social media posts (well, collections of hummus links really) that we have become accustomed to.

BuzzFeed:  Signs you’re in a relationship with hummus

Huffington Post: Health benefits of hummus

Following these links requires assiduity – real assiduity, the kind that drives the truly committed to peel the skins off chickpeas pea by pea.

In this cascade of points and authorities has come yet another nuance in hummus technique. Now comes the suggestion that, after soaking your dried chickpeas overnight, and, just before you commit them to the cauldron for their hour-long boil-and-simmer, you might sautè them with the baking soda for three or four minutes in olive oil.

Observing this mounting enthusiasm, growing volume of commentary, and advancing granularity of detail, MidLaw is called to counsel:

First, temper obsession with dignity. As it is, you will be smearing a mess of semi-fluid, oil-drenched bean paste onto a shred of pita bread, then seeking to get it into your mouth without dripping anything on anything. Bear in mind that you are an exemplar of the species that produced the Code of Hammurabi, the Magna Carta and the State Toast of North Carolina.

Second, never in the pursuit of hummus, exalt occult technique over the immediacy of the moment. What is the MidLaw Way if not to stop, breathe, then consume radically?  And always, to ROLL YOUR OWN.

 

Red kidney beans break out

kidney-beans

As the International Year of Pulses draws slowly to its close, pause to marvel at the humble kidney bean.

Red kidney beans contain more antioxidants than glamorous blueberries or pomegranate juice.

Kidney beans.

Go, you crazy little red-headed, kidney-shaped whack jobs!

(Chickpeasnot far behind. What pulses!)

It’s the season for MidLaw’s somewhat famous MidWinter Supper

It’s time once more to republish the MidLaw MidWinter Supper.Supper

Last year the MidWinter Supper was supplemented with an enhanced fish feature, “Helen’s Famous Smoked Fish Dip” (the provenance is at the link). Some dip.

We’ll let this year’s embellishment be MidLaw’s recent inquiry into the skinning of chickpeas, which may, after all, be contra-indicated for the hummus américaine. You decide.

The Supper’s the thing. That hummus, that fish, that dip. And the beverage.

Cahiers de Hoummous: to skin a pea

skinsRemoving the skins from chickpeas when you make your hummus is something you just don’t hear enough about. And there are multiple schools of thought on the subject.

Maureen Abood, Yotam Ottolenghi, Sami Tamimi and others counsel soaking then cooking dried peas a long time with baking soda, straining them, adding cold water, and then rubbing the skins off with your fingers. (Same method can be adopted for canned chickpeas, where you microwave instead of simmering for a long time.)

Others suggest rubbing your peas with a towel. See the Steamy Kitchen, rub-them-with-a-paper-towel method.

But traditionalist Amy Riolo, the author of Nile Style, says that she skins her peas one by one. She says

To peel chickpeas, hold them in between your thumb and index finger over a bowl and squeeze. The chickpea will come through and you will be left with the skin in your hand. I like to peel them while I’m watching television or talking on the phone, and leave them ready in the refrigerator, so that later on I can make this dish.

She handles each chickpea, one at the time. Well, there you go. If you remove each skin from each pea, one by one, you will have some creamy hummus.

Perfectly acceptable hummus, however, can be fashioned from skin-on peas. Partially skinned peas are fine, too. (Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.) You might want to give your food processor a few more turns for skin-on peas than for the naked ones, then you’ll be good to go.

It’s your hummus, you choose.

A word about the television, though. We cannot condone watching television while you skin your peas. In some jurisdictions, watching cable TV news in particular while skinning chickpeas may be regarded as chickpea abuse.

[Broader MidLaw hummus wisdom was recapped at year end.]