Hummus is the stuff you stick next to the carrot sticks at your kids’ party, to make them (slightly) more parent-palatable.
Or the glue for a tortilla.
Rarely is hummus the star of the show—pretty much never if if it’s store bought.
But change is in the air.
Sexy, sun-dried-but-so-improbably-unctuous tomatoes are here to shake things up and make you fall in lust for what the traditional Arabic dip was always meant to be: a mind-blowing mouthgasm.
Boring, beige hummus: you’ve been served.
This hummus recipe is one of my favourites because firstly—obviously—it tastes like a Mediterranean sunset, and secondly, the ingredient proportions are forgiving—you can add more (or less) herbs or tomatoes as your little hedonistic heart desires.
The secret to ridiculously creamy hummus is to blend your chickpeas and tahini before adding the extras. All they need is whatever liquid element you’re using—like lemon juice and excess oil from the tomatoes, and then you blitz into a super-smooth consistency.
Another key to creaminess is roasting the garlic cloves. If you’ve roasted them to perfection (which is not hard to do) they should be as soft as paste. Roasting the garlic doesn’t just sweeten its typical sharpness, but also keeps your hummus texture from becoming bitty.
My FAVE hummus above all others: Sundried tomatoes, hunks of sweet basil, creamy tahini…imagine a mouthful of Mediterranean sunset, and you’re pretty dang close.
- 1 full bulb of garlic
- 1 tin chickpeas
- 1 tbsp dark or light tahini paste
- 1 lemon, unwaxed
- 1 jar sundried tomatoes, in oil
- Hunk of fresh basil
- Extra virgin olive oil, for serving
- Slice the top of the garlic bulb (don’t peel!), brush the cut end with some olive oil, then wrap in foil and bake at 180C/350F/gas mark 4 for around 20 minutes (or until you smell the roasted garlic).
- While the garlic is roasting, rinse the chickpeas, then blend together with tahini and juice of the lemon until smooth.
- Once garlic is cool enough to handle, squeeze cloves out into food processor.
- Throw in as many or as few sundried tomatoes as you like; but because they’re typically intense in flavour, you really only need around 5 or 6. Tear off a small handful of fresh basil (or dried, if that’s what you’ve got), and pour in a little glug of that herby oil from the tomato jar.
- Blitz until you’re happy with the consistency.
- Taste. Add more basil or tomatoes if you require. Spoon into a bowl, drizzle with your swankiest olive oil. Eat with abandon—carrot sticks optional.