In the previous post, we saw two ways to prepare hummus, now we are going to see two other ways, but to serve it —beyond the subtle and essential drizzle of olive oil (preferably Palestinian, if you are lucky enough to get it), spices (cumin, paprika, za'atar, parsley), toasted sesame seeds, and/or a few whole chickpeas on top. Now, not in all regions where hummus is prepared, it is served the same. It is not even served the same from one family to another, but —more importantly— not in all places where hummus is considered a local dish there is a consensus about its origin. And this —as we know, sadly— is not the only thing that is in dispute in that region.
In fact, in recent decades, hummus has gained such an important role in the political discussion —mainly led by Israel, Palestine, and Lebanon— that there are those who consider that the most beautiful and, at the same time, ironic, thing about this dish is, perhaps, that the answer for reconciliation and peace could also be found in it. This is the subject of a documentary called Make Hummus Not War (2012) by Australian director Trevor Graham, which you can't watch online unless you have Curiosity, but here are some interesting bits…
About the origin of hummus…
Real hummus vs. supermarket hummus…
How “the hummus war” started…
Hummus and colonialism…
Can hummus bring peace?
Hummus, appropriation, and memory…
Hummus, peace, and love.
RECIPES
The inspiration for these two mezes—aubergines and koftas—which can be served over hummus or plain—came from Falastin: A Cookbook, by Palestinian-London chef Sami Tamimi, and English food writer Tara Wigley, which is just one of several Palestinian cookery books —among other written, audio, and visual resources on cuisine and culture of the Levant and the Middle East, in general— that I have consulted as a result of this essay, and, of which, I will share a list with you at the end.
These recipes are not exactly the same as Falastin's, since in an effort to use things I already had at home —and without straying from the universe of ingredients commonly used in these dishes— I made some minor substitutions. I always try to respect as much as possible the way in which each person, or group of people, prepares a meal that is representative of who they are. However, I believe that as long as the flavors are taken care of and a certain logic is followed, this feminine tendency to save, reuse, and avoid food waste, is not entirely at odds with the sense of "authenticity" in the cooking (that misleading and ambiguous concept), since it is a universal and ancestral practice that not only justifies substitutions in dishes —especially the ones made by those who migrate with their culinary history to other countries and cannot find the same ingredients—, it is also a custom that we should all learn to reconnect with, for the good of the planet. This week I came across a text in Notes (if you haven't subscribed yet, do so now, it's one of the most promising social networks that exist today, according to more informed people than me. You can read more about it here, here, and here) about various books that revolve around this topic; the first is one of my favorite cookery essay books: An Everlasting Meal. Cooking with Economy and Grace by Tamar Adler…
And, here, another recent take on the above-mentioned book by one of my favorite newsletters, about one of my favorite subjects: breadmaking…
AUBERGINES
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