I am a fly by the seat of your pants cook and ninety five percent of the time we arrive unscathed at our culinary destination.Five percent of the time I crash and burn and it is a culinary disaster.Veronica still casually mentions the time I served up raw fish to her as a child and no, I wasnt trying to make sashimi. Oooops.
My friend Sue makes really nice hommous.So I thought that I would make some, as the pre packaged stuff tastes like shit.
Unfortunately I am prone to daydreams as well, so I only heard Sue say, mix some chickpeas with some tahini, chuck in a bit of lemon juice and some garlic and away you go.
I had a can of chickpeas in the pantry, so I plonked them in a bowl and mashed them up with a fork. I stirred in a crushed garlic clove and added a squeeze of lemon juice.
It was looking all right so far.
I added a couple of tablespoons of tahini and mixed it through with a fork. It still didn’t taste like Sue’s, so I added some more tahini and some more lemon juice. This didn’t look like Sue’s lovely creamy hommous either.It was very thick and gluggy but I am an optimist so onwards and upwards.
I don’t have a food processor because it takes longer to wash them up than it does to mooosh things by hand. Mix, mix,mixity mix. By now my wrist was getting sore from all the mixing and I was rethinking my aversion to food processors.
I had added half a jar of tahini to a can of chickpeas.I was going nowhere fast and I was starting to wonder if maybe I should have googled a recipe first.
My fly by the seat of my pants hommous experiment was fast descending into farce. I had added enough tahini to make a bucket load of hommous. So I put it all into the fridge and went to bed.
Day two of the hommous extravaganza.
I cooked up a fresh batch of chickpeas to try and even up the ratio. This took nearly all afternoon because they took ages to get soft. The pulse gods were not smiling on me at all.
Heartily sick of the sight of chickpeas by now, I mooshed up the fresh batch with a fork. Encouraged by how soft they were I grabbed the stick mixer. Ha. Chickpeas are so gluggy that they gummed up the blades of the stick mixer in about 5 seconds flat. *sigh* A food proccessor was starting to look very,very tempting. I added them to yesterdays failed hoummous and starting mixing it all together. I had run out of lemons so I added a good splash of white balsamic vinegar, another clove of garlic and about half a cup of extra virgin olive oil. Flying blind indeed.
So at this stage of my hommous adventure I now had a very large mixing bowl full of a chickpea/tahini/miscellaneous mixture that didn’t remotely resemble Sue’s at all. The craving for hommous had vanished days ago. The kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it when in walked my saviour, The Spouse with a case of beer induced munchies. Yay.
Half a packet of dry bickies later, a decent dent had been made into bowl and my confidence was slightly restored. I put the hommous back into the fridge and went to bed. Again.
It is now Tuesday and I have this huge bowl of pseudo hommous sitting there in the fridge, mocking me. I think I might have to add some paprika and chilli to some of it, some parsley and cucumber to another handful of it and voila a plethora of mixed dips will grace my fridge. Now I better nip down to the pub and get The Spouse some more beer. Lots of beer.
*** Note: If you totally forget about the hommous for a couple of weeks and then discover it lurking at the back of the fridge. It will be fizzy. Very fizzy.It still smelled fine. It had just fermented and fizzed very unpleasantly on my tongue. Ooops.
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