Say It With Garbanzo Beans

I'm late with my Valentine's Day wishes today, I know, but that's mostly because I didn't even remember it was Valentine's Day until well into the day.  The romance is obviously thick on the ground around here.

So!  Happy Valentine's Day, my lovelies!  Because I love you and don't want you to have to suffer sub-standard hummus any longer, I want to share with you my experience making that particular foodstuff this past weekend.  Sharing is caring, and I care enough about you to make sure you know how to avoid nasty grainy hummus.  The method for avoiding that travesty was originally shared* by the brilliant mind behind Smitten Kitchen (the current recipe there right now for salted caramel brownies makes me want to eat the picture right off the screen).

You ready?  Okay.

You have to peel the chickpeas.  Or garbanzo beans.  Whatever you call 'em, they gotta go into that food processor nekkid.

I know.  You all just stopped there and started making snide comments in your head (or possibly out loud--I have no way of knowing) about crazy people with too much time on their hands.  I understand.  I had the same thoughts.  But I also thought about the unpleasant graininess of hummus and how I kind of hate that.  I'm sensitive to food textures, and that graininess was not a happy thing.  But I love hummus.  So when I was presented with a way to lose the graininess and still eat hummus, I knew I would have to try it.

Then we had a party on Sunday, which of course gave me a reason to make hummus.  And, as a bonus, my mother was here, which meant someone to entertain Cubby while I skinned chickpeas.  AND, further bonus, my sister was here, which meant someone who jumped right in and helped me skin said chickpeas.  We did two 15.2 ounce cans in, oh, about ten minutes.

Every single person who witnessed this skinning--including the MiL and even my own mother--voiced their disbelief that I was willing to skin chickpeas.  Surely, they said, that's unnecessary.  Surely, they said, it won't make that much difference.  Surely, they didn't say but I'm sure thought in their heads, you are completely off your head to even consider such a thing.

And you know what?  They all ate their words.  And the hummus.

Every person who ate that hummus agreed that yes, it made a difference. A big one. And yes, it was worth it to skin the chickpeas.

In conclusion, if you love hummus, love yourself enough to spend the time to skin the chickpeas.  Because you deserve smooth, un-grainy hummus.  We all do.

* For some reason, I ended up needing a lot more water than called for in the recipe to make it not so pasty.  I also used a little olive oil when I was blending it up and I only had half the amount of lemon juice recommended.  I definitely wanted more lemon flavor--though not enough to drive twenty miles roundtrip to procure the necessary lemons--but it was still delicious.