If you’d asked any of my grandparents what hummus was I doubt they would have had a clue. Despite its current ubiquity hummus was unheard of in most North American homes forty years ago.
By 2014 though times had clearly changed. Nearly 30% of Canadian households had purchased hummus at least once in the past year. The humble chickpea dip is a marker of just how much Canadians’ diets had evolved.
Pinpointing the exact origins of hummus is an impossible task. Humans have been cultivating chickpeas nearly 8000 years which makes it a little hard to pin anything within modern national boundaries. Israelis identify strongly with hummus as a national dish as do the Lebanese, but you’ll get strong opinions on the topic from Palestinians, Egyptians, and both Turkish and Greek Cypriots, among others. It’s an argument no one is going to win, particularly in the comments section.
Hummus is the Arabic word for chickpea. The word has been adopted to describe the dip we know and love, but strictly speaking that is hummus bi tahina or chickpeas with tahini. Lest you think that the smooth puree texture is the defining feature, you would be wrong: there are whole chickpea versions named hummus musabaha or “swimming chickpeas”.
The defining quality, therefore, is the chickpea. Black bean hummus (or black-eyed pea, or other) is, by definition, incorrect, and some of more creative interpretations like Mexican hummus, kimchi hummus, and dessert hummus may taste good, but ought to be called something else.
When the chickpeas aren’t the star, it’s not hummus.
Once I learned to make hummus I stopped buying it. There is really no comparison at all between homemade and store bought. Even “good” brands bear little resemblance to smooth, warm, almost fluffy homemade hummus.
The exact quantities of chickpeas to tahini is truly a matter of personal taste, and seems to vary from one hummus-loving culture to another. Personally, I prefer a high proportion of tahini but it, like the quantity of garlic you add, is up to you. You can scale this recipe up or down as your needs see fit, but it doesn’t keep as long as the store-bought type: 3 or 4 days is your max, so plan accordingly.
More important than the exact proportions though is the technique you use, and baking soda is key. Most home cooks are at least somewhat familiar with how a splash of acid can affect a dish, but truly alkaline ingredients are few and far between in most cooking. In this case the alkaline baking soda helps break down the chickpeas and their skins so you can achieve a smooth texture. I’ve seen recipes that advocate peeling the skins from each chickpea, but who has time for that?
All of which is to say that canned chickpeas aren’t going to cut it here. You CAN do it but it won’t be quite the same. Take the time to soak the dried ones and you’ll be glad you did.
Ready for the best hummus you’ve ever eaten?
The Gear:
Bowl
Spatula
Mesh strainer
Medium pot
Food processor (with blade attachement)
Large spoon
Measuring spoons
Measuring cup (with pouring spout)
The Ingredients:
Dried chickpeas (about 1 cup/200 grams)
Baking soda (1 scant teaspoon)
Tahini paste (about 1/2 cup or 120 grams)
2-4 garlic cloves, peeled and lightly chopped
Lemon juice (a tablespoon or two)
Water and ice cubes
The Technique:
Pick through chickpeas to remove any stones or other objects. Cover with several inches of water and rest 6-8 hours, or overnight.
After soaking your chickpeas will have doubled in size (or close to it). Drain and rinse.
Heat pot over medium-high heat. When pot is hot add chickpeas and baking soda.
Toss chickpeas with baking soda and cook until beans are dry and there’s a baking soda residue in the pot.
Cover chickpeas with water (lots please) and boil until very soft. The pot will foam up quite a bit so do skim it from time to time. You may need to adjust your heat from time to time to keep it from boiling over.
Boil for about 20 minutes, or until your chickpeas are very soft, i.e. squishable soft.
Drain chickpeas and add to food processor along with chopped garlic, lemon juice, and a 2 finger pinch of salt.
Blend until chickpeas are chopped and starting to turn into a paste.
Add the tahini and continue to blend.
While the motor is running add ice water (not the ice cubes, please!). Add about 2 tablespoons and continue to blend, scraping sides as needed. Taste periodically and add more salt and/or lemon. Add more water if needed.
Hummus is done when smooth and creamy with few to no lumps.
Cool and store in an airtight container in the fridge for 3-4 days. I suspect it won’t last that long.
You can serve your hummus as a side dish, a meze, or a meal unto itself. Pita bread is really all you need, but you might prefer carrots, celery, and other crudité. Garnishes, if any, shouldn’t overwhelm and ought to complement. A giant mound of hummus can be swirled into a pretty presentation in seconds: hold your spoon and turn the plate. It’s that easy.
Chickpeas have been a staple for thousands of years, and for good reason. It takes a little effort to make them special, but it’s effort you won’t regret. Make some and find out just how easy it is. Homemade hummus = happiness.
Thanks for the recipe. Can you provide one for tahini? It's not easily available in stores in India.