Hummus For A Party

Apparently I am not quite the last person in the world to acquire a slow cooker, or Crock-Pot, as most of us habitually refer to them. And I probably don’t…

Apparently I am not quite the last person in the world to acquire a slow cooker, or Crock-Pot, as most of us habitually refer to them. And I probably don’t use it as often as I might. But I hauled it out the other day when I wanted to make hummus. I had plenty of time, and I knew that the slow cookers were good for cooking dried legumes.

This hummus recipe is my usual one, adapted slightly from Horn Of The Moon Cookbook, now out of print, which came from a Vermont vegetarian restaurant of the generation of the still-mourned Sunshine Inn. It is in no way authentic, but it’s miles beyond the bland goo that used to be the standard. I made gallons of it for my son and daughter-in-law’s wedding when Jane’s folks and I fed a couple of hundred people at their farm. It freezes perfectly, and since this recipe makes about a quart and a half, you may want to do that, too. When I did that, I bought my chickpeas in bulk at what is now Jay Foods on South Grand, as well as garlic and large jars of tahini, which are less expensive than at mainstream supermarkets. (They also are available at Jay’s sibling, Global Foods in Kirkwood, which does not have bulk bins.)

Tahini is like natural peanut butter; it separates on standing. The night before you plan to use it, turn the jar upside down to make your life easier. (It’ll begin to re-amalgamate the layers.) You may still need to stir it before using; by now, it’s automatic for me. Some tahinis are thicker than others, and that will affect how much body the hummus will have. Thick hummus can be used for sandwiches, but I usually make it a little thinner for dips. To me, hummus calls for vegetable dippers, but there’s much to be said for warm toasted pita wedges.

The recipe below gives the standard directions for stovetop cooking of the dried chickpeas, also labeled garbanzos. What I did with the Crock-Pot was to toss the chickpeas into a stovetop pan and add hot water to cover them by about three inches. I brought that to a boil and put the whole thing into the Crock-Pot on low heat. They cooked for about nine hours. When I checked them, I was blown away. They had a depth of flavor I’d never found before. It was great, and unless there’s a time problem, I’ll never cook them any other way.

You can be casual about the exact quantities of onion and spices; this is a play-it-by-mouth sort of thing. I usually up the pepper, sometimes quite vigorously, and the salt as well.

1 lb. dried chickpeas or garbanzos

water

1-2 Tbs. olive oil, plus more for optional garnish

1½ c. finely chopped onion (2-3 onions)

5 large cloves of garlic, minced

1 medium carrot, finely chopped

1/2 c. lemon juice (optional: grate some peel before juicing lemons)

1 c. tahini

2 Tbs. soy sauce

1 tsp. ground cumin

1/4 tsp. cayenne

1/2 tsp salt

za’atar or paprika for optional garnish


Put the chickpeas to soak in cold water to cover by 3-4 inches, and let them soak overnight. Alternatively, bring to a boil, let boil for 2 minutes, turn off heat, cover, let stand for 2 hours, and then begin cooking. Bring to a boil, drop heat to a simmer, cover, and let cook until tender. Check water levels to make sure water covers chickpeas all the time. Total cooking varies from 2 to 4 hours. (Don’t be fooled; I came across a recipe on the internet that called for 40 minutes. Nope.) Yes, you can cook the chickpeas in advance. Drain the chickpeas, but do not discard the liquid.

Heat a medium-to-large skillet. Add the olive oil, let it warm for a minute or two and add the onions, garlic and carrot. Saute over medium-low heat until vegetables are soft and many of them are browned. The pan will need to be scraped increasingly often as they cook; that’s okay.

While the onions and things are cooking, get out your largest bowl. Using a food processor, whiz the chickpeas. I like them very smooth, and that means you probably need to use some of the cooking liquid (or water) to thin the mixture. Scrape down the sides of the processor as needed. You’ll probably have to do this in two or three batches. Add the mashed chickpeas to the large bowl. (The cookbook adds that you can do this with a bean masher, which looks very much like a potato masher.)

If you like lemon, you may want to grate the peel of the 2 lemons (washed with soap and water, please, and dried) before you juice them. Add the lemon juice, tahini, soy sauce, cumin, cayenne and salt, and when they’re cooked enough, the vegetables. Using a large flexible spatula so you can scrape the walls of the bowl, mix it all together, and keep mixing. Because of the density, it’s a little more difficult to get the seasonings well-dispersed than in some things.

Taste. More salt? More cayenne? (I used to use about 4 flakes of dried habanero that had been soaked briefly in the lemon juice, and it was quite, quite hot.) Maybe a little more cumin. How about the thickness of the mixture? More cooking liquid? As you stir in the adjusted seasonings, continue scraping the side of the bowl. (Ask me how I learned this.)

If you’re going to be serving this at a party, I put it on a platter (a bright color is a great idea for this pale tan hummus), do some parallel curved swirls on the top surface, sort of ((((, drizzle olive oil over it, and sprinkle paprika or za’atar, the dark red Middle Eastern seasoning that’s sumac and thyme and sesame seeds. Some foks like to save out a few whole chickpeas and sprinkle them on top as a little clue to what it is.

Makes 1 1/2 quarts.

-Ann