Level 6 vegan: hummus

When I went to stay with a friend for a week last summer, I said that I needed to get some hummus. "Hummus is a necessity for vegans. It's like oxygen. Soon, I'll be able to breathe it." If being a level 5 vegan equals pocket mulching, level 6 is breathing hummus.

For a long time I had a love-hate relationship with hummus. I loved that it is cheap, nutritious, available almost everywhere and delicious with almost everything. But I hated that whenever I made it, it wasn't as yummy as the store-bought version and inevitably languished in my fridge. Everything else that you make tastes better than the store-bought stuff. But not hummus--it's such a bad-ass vegan food, it refuses to follow the rules!

One evening I went to a party (where the only vegan edibles were the cupcakes I brought and, fortunately, the hummus) and completely freaked out over the hummus. I couldn't get over the texture: smooth and creamy, just like the store bought stuff. I think I ate most of the bowl myself. (Sorry about that, Cara.) I was talking with someone there (okay, so I was gushing over the Perfect Hummus) and she said two things that stuck with me: Don't think of it as hummus, think of it as chickpea dip. And: don't be stingy with the oil and the tahini.

I decided I needed to delve further into the true meaning of hummus. Of course, I turned to Google. Fortunately, this time I managed to filter out the inevitable internet crap and actually find useful tips. And I finally became one with the chickpea and made Perfect Hummus. To help you in this noble endeavor, I have four rules for Perfect Hummus.

1. Cook the crap out of the chickpeas.
2. Refrigerate the chickpeas overnight.
3. Add lots of the yummy stuff.
4. Get a good food processor.

If these are self-explanatory, or if you already make perfect hummus, you can stop right here. Otherwise, here's the full Perfect Hummus rules.

1. Cook the crap out of the chickpeas.
I used to be impatient with my chickpeas. I would cook the little darlings until they were just done, and proceed to make hummus. Hummus is like foreplay: never rush it. Now, I cook the chickpeas until they're really, really soft. If I take out a beautiful little chickpea and can squish it with even a little pressure, they're done. If not, I keep cooking.

2. Refrigerate the chickpeas overnight.
I'll say it again, because it's really true (for both hummus and sex). Hummus is like foreplay: never rush it. My hummus googling told me that if you make hummus with still-warm chickpeas, they will never be creamy. I don't know the scientific basis behind this, but since doing this I have creamy hummus. If you are religious, take this on faith, like water-to-wine, the burning bush. If you're not religious, join me in the Church of Eternal Garbanzo and don't question it. Cook those little chickpeas until they're squishy and refrigerate them overnight before making your hummus.

3. Add lots of the yummy stuff.
I watch what I eat. I used to skimp on tahini and olive oil when making hummus because they were calorific. I had to stop worrying about this to get Perfect Hummus. Now I add a bunch in the food processor and if my hummus isn't creamy, I add more and blend until it is creamy. I don't eat giant portions of hummus at a time, so even if there is lots of high-calorie stuff in the hummus, that item alone won't be an issue.

4. Get a good food processor.
I have killed two hand blenders making hummus. Seriously. I am one hand-blender-corpse away from starting an Appliance Sematary (and when I bury the dead hand blenders, they will arise three days later and do diabolical things like purée heads of lettuce. OMG, not PUREED LETTUCE!!) .

At one point I decided hummus was worth the investment in a serious, grown-up kitchen item, and bought a decent food processor. Besides enabling me to make cashew "cheese", my food processor allows me to finally make good hummus. Yes, it's big and it's a pain to clean, but I can tackle even the most complex recipe with it and know it will not need to be buried (and re-buried, after arising from the dead). And it allows me to make make Perfect Hummus.

So with these rules in hand, I encourage you to proudly tackle making hummus at home. Once you get the hang of it--and learn not to rush--it's well worth washing the food processor. "Bon appe-chickpea!"