My recent adventures in domesticity have been rather complex affairs involving multiple exotic ingredients and often a few hours of cook time. That’s why I decided to simplify things with a less grandiose endeavor: hummus! This Middle-Eastern treat requires only a few elements: tahini, garbanzo beans, olive oil, salt, and garlic. How hard could it be?
This would be a piece of cake. OR WOULD IT?
Before I get into the thick of things, first let me start with some background context. The real reason why I elected to make hummus had nothing to do with any desire to register another entry into this ongoing series of my cooking exploits. Instead, I just wanted a cheap alternative to the pricey hummus from the supermarket. I’m a bit partial to the smooth, creamy brands such as Sabra or Athenos’s new “NeoClassic Hummus,” but what I’ve become increasingly aware of is the fact that these more luxurious offerings are unsurprisingly more expensive â€â€Ã‚ sometimes reaching up to $6 for a standard container. True, I could go to Costco and buy a large vat of Sabra (sort of a pain in the ass), and true, I could simply opt for a cheaper brand or lower quality of hummus from someplace like Trader Joe’s, but why should I have to sacrifice quality? I decided that I would take matters into my own hands. I would make my OWN hummus from scratch.
First thing I did was find a decent recipe. I don’t particularly like grainy hummus as much, and I wanted to find a recipe that would leave me with Sabra-esque levels of smooth creaminess. After a bit of research, I finally came upon one such recipe, which specifically boasted a likeness to the Sabra brand. The key, said the author, is to blend the tahini and the lemon juice beforehand. Only then would one reach the rarefied creaminess of homemade Sabra.
Sounded like a plan. Next I just had to assemble my ingredients for this purportedly easy process. Everything was simple and easy to get. Everything but tahini. Supposedly, tahini is stocked in many markets these days, but you’d be damned to find it at Rock ‘n’ Roll Ralph’s (my local super market). Nope, I scoured that store up and down to no avail. I eventually found a manager and asked him for it, and to my luck, a woman next to me just so happened to be searching for it as well. This added increased pressure on the manager  so much so that when the woman and I announced our intentions to seek out tahini at Whole Foods, I could hear him muttering as he walked away, “We gotta get some of that stuff.” I may have lost the battle, but I felt as if I’d won the war.
Of course, I didn’t go to Whole Foods. The combination of high prices and a heinous parking lot always relegates Ho’Foos to last on my list for any given shopping run. However, after checking Fresh & Easy and Trader Joe’s, I was left with no other option but to wedge my way into a narrow spot at the Fairfax and Santa Monica Whole Foods and go in search of the mythical tahini. Needless to say, it was a success; although, at $5 I had the nagging feeling like I could get cheaper tahini elsewhere in the city.
UPDATE: I just came back from Fresh & Easy and found tahini in their peanut butter section. Oh well. Guess I missed it the first time.
Nevertheless, I headed back to my apartment, and upon my return, I learned that my friend from out of town who shall go by “Sly” was loitering about the neighborhood in search of an afternoon activity. I invited Sly up to my apartment where she happily took a seat at my table and watched as I attempted my very first batch of homemade hummus. She was more than happy to not only take pictures of the process but also provide sage advice. Sly, as it turns out, is a garbanzo fiend and has made hummus many times. Her photographic skills and culinary experience thus made this adventure quite spirited indeed:
Behold the tahini!
Next I take the juice of one lemon and pour it in the Magic Bullet attachment.
Ahhh… tahini and lemon: ready to be “creamed,” as per the recipe’s instructions.
I mix both ingredients together, but as the consternation on my face shows, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of “creaming” going on.
In fact, the mixture looks anything but silky and creamy. Instead, it’s grainy and firm.
Nevertheless, I continue onwards, hoping that the recipe will somehow miraculously come together. Here I am crushing garlic cloves.
I’ve now added garlic, salt, and olive oil to the mixture. I should note that the recipe did NOT call for olive oil, an omission Sly and I found egregious at best and shocking at worst. Sly, an avid hummus enthusiast, informed me that I should most certainly add the oil.
Even with olive oil, the mixture is still a bit too pasty. At this point, I’m rapidly losing faith in this recipe. I decide I’m going to add the final ingredient â€â€Ã‚ garbanzo beans â€â€Ã‚ and then I’ll figure out what to do after that.
Once again I encounter another roadblock, this time in the form of a curiously stubborn can.
I mean, the damn thing would simply NOT bend to the will of my can opener. I had to employ alternative measures and simple machines. Pictured above: me prying loose the lid with a spoon.
Three minutes and plenty of finagling later, I finally manage to open the can and unlock the glorious legume treasure within.
At last something easy: rinsing the damn beans.
But oh no! There are too many! The Magic Bullet can only take so much!
And so I begin the tedious process of transferring a dubiously mixed pre-hummus assemblage of ingredients into the blender attachment. My hair is puffy with annoyance. Thankfully, Sly is able to provide gentle encouragement.
Okay… Ready, set, HUMMUS!
I said ready, set, HUMMUS!!!
The mixture is simply not mixing. It’s too stiff. There are too many beans. The tahini is too pasty. There’s not enough liquid. Sly suggests I introduce some plain yogurt to the proceedings. Perhaps that will create enough lubrication (not to mention the much sought after creaminess) to engender a more successful blending experience.
Alas, even with yogurt and added oil (and multiple scrape downs with a rubber scraper), this hummus simply was not mixing. This was a task too great for the Magic Bullet.
This simple blending experience becomes a full-fledged production as I reach for the big guns: my grandmother’s food processor.
Minor groans as I prepare to transfer this unblended hummus for the SECOND TIME. There are entirely way too many dishes already for this supposedly simple dish.
I contemplate using more yogurt. For avid blog readers, you’ll recognize this yogurt as a leftover ingredient to my adventures with Chicken Tikka Masala.
Like an unwanted foster child in the throes of an inefficient system, the hummus makes its way to yet another home. More yogurt is added.
At last, successful blending! Sly and I rejoice.
By the looks of it, we have hummus!
Or do we???
Turns out the texture was still too dry (probably because of all the tahini). We decide to add oil. Luckily, I have a small bottle of flavored oil that I started up a few days prior for another dish. It contains serrano chiles, lemon peel, and lots of garlic. BUT ALAS: a new roadblock! The oil had congealed!!! Into the microwave it goes…
When oh when will it be ready??? (20 seconds, to be specific)
Before blending in the flavored oil, I add two more cloves of garlic.
At last, the oil goes in. It’s somewhat anticlimactic.
And now even more yogurt. Sense a pattern?
The hummus is taking shape.
At this point, Sly and I start getting creative. Chives? Don’t mind if I do!
Further blending.
We then peruse the offerings in my fridge for further hummus enhancement. We opt to forgo the Bud Light in favor of more suitable ingredients  none of which are found here.
The cabinets bring more luck. After examining my growing collection of spices, we decide to recruit the red pepper flakes for hummus duty.
Being the dainty soul that I am, I drop a few pinches of pepper flakes into the mixture. Sly then takes the spice jar from me and heartily pours in a healthy teaspoon or two of flakes. This is probably for the best.
Here I am proving my worth by pouring in even more red pepper flakes.
Time for another taste…
SUCCESS!!! Things were dicey for a moment, but in the end, this hummus wound up absolutely perfectly: creamy, garlicky, spicy, and yet true to its garbanzo roots. Not to toot our horn too much, but this hummus was on par with the great offerings of Zankou Chicken or Marouch (two local institutions here in Los Angeles).
Hummus pride.
Dishes. At least next time I know to go directly to the food processor.
