A not so terrible consequence of being interested in food is that you tend to become a repository of recipes that are memorable to friends, food often shared during some excursion to an enviable place, chasing some worthy finned or four-legged critter.
A couple of years ago I shared in this The Slaw Hits the Fan Chicken Sandwich Post about a friend (RC from SLC) calling out of the blue one day asking about a freakin’ chicken sandwich – maybe the best I’ve ever eaten – we’d shared on the South Fork of the Snake on summer evening a decade prior.
As it turns out on that same trip we had another friend along, a Greek residency mate of mine named Alec, who brought along a huge tub of freshly made hummus he served slathered into fire-warmed pitas pulled from the Forest Service campfire grate, and packed with cucumbers, thinly sliced red onions, carrot slivers and chopped Calamata olives with a drizzle of really nice olive oil.
RC called again this week, amazingly wanting that hummus recipe we’ve taken to calling South Fork Hummus. Yep, real men and women do eat hummus. It’s not as fancy as some of the artisanal or gussied up hummus recipes out there, but it’s the workhorse we tend to keep in the fridge when it’s hot out and about.
Hell, SWMBO would eat this every danged meal given half the chance.
You might even argue that hummus is a lot like making a sandwich, you can wiggle around amounts of various ingredients to get the flavors and texture just right for you. Our favorites include a chipotle version and adding pureed roasted red peppers as well, but we keep coming back to this one that Alec first served on the banks of the South Fork years ago.
Living behind the tortilla curtain here in Texas now for a bit, we’ve even taken to layering hummus on a tortilla and spooning on a good spicy Mexican slaw, or the Vietnamese inspired slaw you’d use on a Bahn Mi and rolling it up street taco style – they’re both incredible and would make for a powerfully good lunch out of the cooler on a drift boat day.
Two 28-ounce cans chickpeas (or 2 cups dried chickpeas, cooked)
Freshly squeezed juice of three lemons (more to taste)
1/4 cup tahini paste
1/4 cup EVOO
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tbsp ground cumin
1/4 to 1/2 cup water (or chickpea cooking liquid) if needed
Good sea salt to taste
Fresh ground pepper to taste1-2 tbsp fresh cilantro, chopped fine
1-2 tbsp additional EVOO
If using dried chickpeas, soak overnight then cover with water, bring to a boil, skim until clear, then simmer for an hour or so until soft. Reserve 1/2 a cup of cooking water; drain.
If using canned chickpeas, rinse and drain.
Add half the chickpeas to your trusty food processor bowl; now add roughly half of the remaining ingredients: the tahini, the first EVOO, garlic, cumin and 1/4 cup of water. Process in short bursts; you’ll still want some texture. Season with salt and pepper to taste, give it one more short spin, and transfer to a bowl.
Repeat with the rest of the ingredients, then combine with the first batch in the larger bowl and stir together well.
To serve, drizzle a tablespoon or two of your best extra virgin olive oil over and sprinkle with the finely chopped cilantro. Have a big pile of pita bread, toast points or crunchy crudites handy and go to it.
Enjoy.
