Egyptian Hummus with Tahini

What’s the most popular hors d’oeuvre?

I think it has to be hummus. I don’t have any scientific proof but I once counted the kinds of hummus sold at one of my local supermarkets and stopped when I reached 38.

Thirty-eight kinds of hummus? That’s almost as many varieties as potato chips!

Of course there aren’t actually 38 different flavors. There are several brands and some of them are the same flavor, brand to brand — like garlic flavored or spicy, olive, tahini.

But there are also some that I will call post-modern versions because I can’t think of another word for it. Like Sabra’s chipotle or Buffalo style hummus or Tribe’s hummus topped with Cilantro Chimichurri. Wow, that’s what I call fusion cuisine!

Sorry, but when it comes to certain foods, I am a purist. Like with hummus.

In Egypt, hummus is still blessedly kind of pure and simple, so I’ve been eating it every day with breakfast and dinner. It’s basic stuff: pureed chickpeas mixed with spices, olive oil and lots of tahini. Mix it all up in a food processor, garnish with a drizzle of olive oil and a few cooked chickpeas and it’s yummy enough. You don’t need to make it more complex or add any sauce or topping. That way you can actually taste the hummus.

Try this version — it’s easy to make, cheaper than store-bought and you won’t have to make a decision about which of the 38 (or more) flavors to buy.

Egyptian Hummus with Tahini

• 1 pound can chickpeas
• 1/3 cup tahini
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons lime juice
• 1 clove garlic
• 1/2 teaspoon salt or to taste
• pita bread

Drain the chickpeas but reserve the liquid. Set aside a tablespoon of chickpeas. Place the remaining chickpeas in a food processor with the tahini, 2 tablespoons olive oil, lime juice, garlic, salt and 1/4 cup of the reserved bean liquid. Process until the ingredients form a smooth puree (turn the machine off and scrape the sides of the work bowl once or twice). If you prefer a thinner hummus, add some more of the bean liquid. Spoon the hummus into a serving bowl. Garnish with the remaining tablespoon olive oil and the reserved chick peas.

Makes about 1-1/2 cups

Mom's Fried Chicken

I work out twice a week with a trainer whose name is Robbie and usually as I am grunting and sweating and trying to do pushups and mountain climbers and crunches and generally trying to work off the calories, what do we talk about?

Food.

We spend endless amounts of time talking about what we like to eat, what we ate, what we will eat.

We ask about what we’ll be cooking that night. Or on the coming weekend. Or for someone’s birthday or Mother’s Day or what have you.

So the other day we got to talking about Judgement Day. You hear it on some radio stations and there are signs on the highway that Judgement Day is coming on May 21st.

Naturally this seemed like the perfect opportunity to talk about what we would eat if it were our last day on earth.

Wow, getting it down to one thing is too difficult, so we decided it would be a whole meal, plus maybe a cocktail hour with hors d’oeuvre and also dessert. We even talked about what alcoholic beverage we would choose and whether we would close it all out with a cigarette, or something.

The only thing we both picked were franks-in-blankets. Which is good, I have a box of them in my freezer.

But we spent an hour on this topic and I started thinking that if I could have anything, it would be my mother’s fried chicken, made the way she made it. Only she isn’t here to make it, which is maybe why I miss it so much.

What made her fried chicken so special is the simple coating, just seasoned flour, and the cooking fat: vegetable shortening. Yep, that awful stuff that clogs your arteries. But hey, if it’s the last day on earth, what’s the difference? 

One other thing my mother did to make her fried chicken taste so good — after she coated the pieces with flour, she let them air dry for a while. That way the coating sticks and doesn’t fall off in the pan.

The result? Crispy, dark golden brown, juicy, sumptuous chicken.

She made this dish often and I sometimes long for it. I don’t remember when I last cooked it, but it’s time now.

My mother used a whole chicken but I am going to cook only the wings. If it’s Judgement Day why bother with the meat? It’s really the skin and fried outside I like. And there’s that fabulous little bit of meat in that center wing part. My mother always gave that part to me and told me it was the softest, sweetest part of the chicken.

She was right.

Good memories. Good chicken. Here’s the recipe. You can use vegetable oil instead of shortening.

Mom’s Fried Chicken

• 12 chicken wings, cut into pieces
• 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
• 3/4 teaspoon paprika
• 3/4 teaspoon salt or to taste
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• shortening or vegetable oil

Rinse the chicken pieces and set them aside. In a large dish, mix the flour with the paprika, salt, garlic powder and black pepper. Coat the chicken pieces with the seasoned flour. Place them on a cake rack to air dry for 25-30 minutes. Heat the shortening or vegetable oil in a deep saute pan over medium-high heat (should be about 1/2-inch) to 365 degrees (a bread crumb will sizzle quickly when you add it to the pan). Add a few chicken pieces at a time (adding too many will make the cooking oil too cool) and cook, turning the pieces occasionally, for 8-10 minutes or until crispy and golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Makes 12

Scallion Cakes

If the Giants or Jets aren’t playing I’m not much interested in the Superbowl. It might have been okay if the New England Patriots were in it, since I live in New England, sort of (a lot of Yankees consider us lower Fairfield county folks New England-imposters). And maybe even if the Bears were in it because I went to college at Northwestern, in Evanston, Illinois and spent 4 years cheering on Da Bears, Cubs, White Sox, etc.

Frankly, Green Bay and Pittsburgh? Not interested so much. 

But we always go to my brother and sister-in-law’s house on Superbowl Sunday. It’s been a tradition for years and years now, whether or not we watch the game or just switch TV channels occasionally to see who’s winning. They have an enormous TV that makes you feel as if you are in the stadium. Jeff makes the best fireplace fire and also the best popcorn (he uses an entire stick of butter). Eileen will surely make a turkey breast and fixins. So I guess my contribution will be hors d’oeuvre.

Instead of the usual guacamole or salsa, I’ll bring Scallion Cakes. They’re crispy wedges of fried dough filled with little bits of chopped scallions sprinkled judiciously with crunchy particles of kosher salt. Believe me, these things are like potato chips. You can never eat just one. I better make a double recipe to have in my freezer for when my kids come to visit. You don’t even have to defrost them — reheat them in a single layer in a preheated 425 degree oven for a few minutes on each side until they’re hot.

Scallion Cakes

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup boiling water
• 1/3 cup cold water
• vegetable oil
• 4-1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 3 scallions, finely chopped

Place the flour in the bowl of an electric mixer. Add the boiling water and mix at medium speed until a rough dough has formed. Let cool for 2-3 minutes. Pour in the cold water and mix until the dough forms into a ball. Knead for 4-5 minutes or until smooth and elastic (you can do all this in a food processor). Divide the dough into 6 pieces. Using a rolling pin on a lightly floured surface, roll one piece of dough into a 10-inch circle. Brush the dough with about 1-1/2 teaspoons vegetable oil. Sprinkle with about 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt. Sprinkle with about one tablespoon of the chopped scallion. Roll the circle jelly roll style. Form the rolled dough into a coil. Press down on the coil to flatten it slightly. Roll the coil into circles about 1/8-inch thick (don’t worry if some of the dough breaks and the scallions pop through slightly). Repeat with the remaining dough, salt and scallions. Keep the circles separated. Heat a small amount of vegetable oil in a skillet large enough to hold the circles. Cover the pan and cook each circle, one at a time, over medium-high heat for about 2 minutes per side, or until browned and crispy. Add more vegetable oil to the pan as necessary for each circle of dough. Drain the fried circles on paper towels. Cut each circle into 8 wedges. Serve hot. Makes 48 pieces

Old Fashioned Stuffed Cabbage

For me, Stuffed Cabbage is like hot dogs, blooming onions and caramel corn. Foods I love to eat but don’t, except for once a year because once I take that first bite I over indulge and stuff myself and then feel awful the next day.

Right now is Stuffed Cabbage time.

I never actually tasted stuffed cabbage until after I was married. It was something the women in my husband Ed’s family would cook. My grandmother made Stuffed Grape Leaves, which are similar, but the leaves are tangier and her sauce more sour than the typical one for Stuffed Cabbage.

Over the years I tried to develop a recipe that Ed would like and later, would appeal to my sons-in-law, who like the dish sweeter than I was used to. This year I got it right, according to everyone in the extended family, and that’s saying a lot because we are an opinionated bunch.

Here’s the recipe:

Stuffed Cabbage

• 1 large head of green cabbage
• 2 pounds ground beef
• 1 medium onion, grated
• 1 large egg
• 1/4 cup raw white rice
• 2 tablespoons matzo meal or plain bread crumbs
• salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 large onion, finely chopped
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 12-ounce bottle chili sauce
• 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
• 1/2 cup raisins

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Bring a large pot half filled with water to a boil. Cut out the hard center cabbage core. Remove the large cabbage leaves. Place the cabbage leaves plus the smaller remaining cabbage in the boiling water. Cook the cabbage leaves for about 3 minutes, or until they wilt. Cook the remaining cabbage core for 3-5 more minutes, or until you can easily remove the leaves. Cut off the hard stem portions from the large leaves so that they can be rolled easily. Set the leaves aside.

ALTERNATELY: if you plan ahead you can freeze the entire head of cabbage for 24 hours (or more). Thaw the cabbage and the leaves will already be wilted and you can avoid cooking them.

In a large bowl, mix the ground beef, grated onion, egg, rice, matzo meal and salt and pepper to taste. Place a mound of this mixture in the center of each leaf (more on the larger leaves of course). Enclose the meat by wrapping the cabbage leaves, envelope style. Place the stuffed cabbage leaves, seam side down, in deep baking dishes. (I separate the large rolls and smaller ones.)

Heat the vegetable oil in a saute pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 4-5 minutes or until softened. Stir in the brown sugar, chili sauce, lemon juice and raisins and cook for 3-4 minutes. Pour the sauce over the cabbage rolls. Cover the pan. Bake for 2 hours (or, to cook ahead, bake for one hour, freeze, thaw and bake for an additional hour).

Makes 18-24