Two more things about hummus before I move on to other topics (and hopefully you’ll see why I’m still thinking about hummus):
1. I’m told you don’t have to remove the skins of the chick peas before pureeing in the food processor. The final result will be less smooth but still adequate.
2. How could I have written about hummus without describing its mythical powers??? I first encountered this phenomenon when I was downloading Hebrew fonts at least seven years ago, and the “your text here” on one website was, “אהבה עושים בחומוס או לא עושים בכלל”, “Make love with hummus or don’t make it at all,” which completely mystified me until this very day when I googled it and came up with the phrase, “עושים חומוס באהבה או לא עושים בכלל” “Make hummus with love or don’t make it at all.” Duh, it’s a play on words. Food is love, man, and since hummus is the consummate food, you better make it with love. Or the other way around. It’s all cool.
I hear refrains of the following anecdote all the time: Rafi’s eating breakfast on the bus, hummus and mozzarella in a pita. The mozzarella mystifies the old lady sitting across from me (she has heard of it but can’t imagine it in a sandwich), but as for the hummus, “You’ll grow up to be big and strong!”