Truth be told, I was so amped about posting my first blog entry that I didn’t try my hummus recipe until after I had broadcasted it across the world wide web. Needless to say, there were a few glitches, and I currently have a Tupperware container of grainy, week-old chick-pea dip sitting in my fridge. But before being sentenced for my transgressions, I would like to put forth a small and humble defense.
I’m a neophyte cook and a neophyte blogger, but I’ve got passion and chutzpa for days. We’ve all got to start somewhere, and my small space among the millions of blogs on the internet seems to provide just the right amount public of anonymity to help me bumble and scrap my knees onto the food writing scene. For those brave enough to stand by and watch, I thank you. For those of you obligated by friendship and relation to stick around, I say, carry on soldiers.
As for the recipe, my friend Denise sent it to me in Italian, which makes sense because we met in an Italian language school. Reading her instructions, I was lulled into complacency by the relative simplicity of it all. The instructions took up no more than four lines and included statements like “cook the beans until they are soft”. I was so impressed with the idea of swapping recipes with my Israeli friend in the Italian language that I completely overlooked the lack of specifics. Who needs details when making something this simple?
According to the directions on the chick-pea bag I need only boil the beans for ten minutes and then continue to soak for another two hours. Two hours and ten minutes into the process, the beans were only two degrees softer than tooth cracking. No big deal. I put them back on to boil and searched the internet for a few extra hints to supplement my recipe. An hour or so later I found myself shucking hundreds of peas by hand, which I found to be a very cathartic exercise. About half way through I began to question if I had really understood what I read because I kept trying to picture any middle eastern mother, in any one of the middle eastern countries, messing around with a pot of beans for two hours while her kids ran around destroying the house; not practical, not likely. I must have misunderstood.
The real disaster began when I got down to blending the whole thing together. I put my shucked peas, lemon juice, tahini and olive oil in a blender, secured the cover, and hit the power. The motor grinded and whirled, but the contents of the blender did not move. Power off-push-prod-stir. Nada. Hot and frustrated, I dumped a portion into my tiny food processor. This particular model requires the user to hold down a button on the side of the machine with her olive oil slicked hands while the processor screeches back in painful protest.
But I continued to macerate those chick peas in small batches until I got the younger version of what is now collecting social security in my fridge. A pile of dishes and a headache later I could not bring myself to do more than taste for seasoning, which was actually quite nice despite the off putting texture. The result of my hard work looked nothing like the version of perfection I envisioned. Like a sore loser I covered my opponent and threw it into the fridge for a rematch that never came to fruition.
For all of those wishing to punish me for my crimes against blogging, you must acknowledge that I have suffered enough. Mea culpa, Mea culpa, Mea culpa, I will never again post another recipe that I have not tried. I will put forth only those things I know to be successful and delicious.
If there is anyone out there that has a hummus recipe that is fun and easy, and actually works please bring it forth.