Hummus

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun. Back when I was living in Solihull, UK, my landlady, whom I referred to as my British Mum, had 2 cats. Both, black and white, plump, and greedy. Every day after I'd get home from work, I'd stroll into the kitchen to grab a snack before starting my prep for dinner and each time, irrespective of where in the house they were, they'd unerringly make their way into the kitchen and stare at me long enough to make me uncomfortable to the point that I'd give them a little something (which I usually did). Knowing that I was a soft touch, they adopted this ploy every time I was in the kitchen. I'm not even sure how they knew I was going to be there; although I'm putting it down to their kitty-senses tingling! I'd be cooking, and when I'd turn to get something from my spice cupboard, there they'd be. Staring. Unblinkingly. Challenging me to resist their almost hypnotic eyes. You'd think that being British house cats, they wouldn't like spicy Indian fare, but noooo, those fiendish felines would eat anything. I was having dinner one night when they tiptoed to my chair and started pawing it. I attempted to shoo them away but they just flicked their tails and made a, 'Yeah, right. Like that's going to work!' expression and continued to paw at my chair. Accepting defeat, I offered them some of the dal makhani and lachha parantha from my plate hoping to dissuade them, and instead of looking disdainfully at it, they polished it off and asked for more.

They weren't all bad though. They could be quite nice when they wanted. For instance, sometimes when I was cooking, I'd chat to them in Punjabi and they'd mew in reply, and some summer days, when the sun was out, I'd sit on a lounge chair in the garden with a big glass of mango juice and read a book, and they'd curl up into furry balls next to my chair and ask to be stroked every once in a while. We got them catnip one Christmas, and after getting them high on it, watched them go absolutely mental. I once bonked  one of them on the nose repeatedly with a balloon and he scurried out like his tail was on fire! This was soon after I'd fed him a dry red chilli from my sambar because he wouldn't leave me alone! Don't go feeling too bad for him though, he'd made it his life's mission to trip me on my way down the stairs and break my neck because he'd always be sitting there when I was rushing to work (his kitty-sense at work, no doubt). Come to think of it, one of the few things they wouldn't eat (apart from red chillies from my sambar after the first time), was hummus. I like to dunk my crisps in hummus and while they were perfectly content eating the crisps, they wouldn't touch the hummus (which is what inspired this recipe).

On an unrelated note, unlike children, if you throw a cat in the air, they don't come down giggling and happy, expect a lot of twisting, mewing, and claws. Good times.

For my (cat repellent) Hummus, you will need the following: 

Chickpeas	2 cups
Tahini	3-4 tbsp
Garlic	2-3 cloves
Olive oil	1/4 cup
Lemon	1
Salt	to taste
Pepper	to taste
Paprika	to taste
Coriander/Parsley leaves	handful

Prep:

1. Soak your chickpeas overnight. (Unless you're using the canned variety).
2. Crush the garlic cloves.
3. Roughly chop your coriander/parsley leaves.

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a pressure cooker on.
3. Plonk in the chickpeas.
4. Splash in enough water to submerge the chickpeas about 2 fingers deep.
5. Slap the lid on.
6. Crank the heat up to high.
7. Wait for the first whistle.
8. Drop the heat to low.
9. Let it whistle, hiss, and spit for 15 minutes.
10. Turn the gas off.
11. Wait for the steam to leave the pressure cooker.
12. Take the lid off.
13. Grab a grinder.
14. Fish out the boiled chickpeas and plop them in. (Don't pour the water away just yet!)
15. Toss in the garlic.
16. Spoon in the tahini.
17. Add salt and pepper to taste.
18. Sprinkle in the paprika.
19. Add a biggish splash of the chickpea water from the cooker.
20. Squeeze in the lemon.
21. Pour in the olive oil.
22. Smack the lid on.
23. Grind to high heaven until you have a smooth paste. (Adjust the consistency with the olive oil and the chickpea water as desired).
24. Empty into a bowl.
25. Swirl it around.
26. Top with olive oil, paprika, and chopped coriander/parsley.
27. Serve with whatever.
28. Stuff face.
29. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: To make your own tahini, toast your sesame seeds, pop them in a grinder with olive oil and blitz.

And remember, overeating is a myth. A full tummy is a happy tummy!