Just wanted to post a quick note about the delicious hummus and pita that I made yesterday. It was good, but that’s not why I’m posting this. Why then? I really don’t have a reason, I suppose. Perhaps it is just a testament to doing it from scratch, not that I am special, but that it better reflects process than destination. Sure, I ate some hummus and pita bread. If that’s all it was, then I guess I should post nothing. But the journey and the ritual matter. People have been cooking these things for thousands of years (well flatbread anyway). There’s something to that.
The pita bread came from my wild yeast and oh how it rose, each of the nine flat breads popping up like little microwave popcorn bags in the oven. Perfect.
I didn’t grow the chick peas, but I did cook them from dry. Then I used my new food mill to extract the skins and seasoned it with tahini, garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, and salt (Laura re-seasoned with more of each). Dinner was pita pockets with fish, hummus, and tomatoes and lettuce. The kids tried to get around eating the hummus. haha. I cleaned their plates with some extra bread.
At least I didn’t sun dry the tomatoes, age some goat cheese, or marinate the tofu and serve it up on a artisan rye sour dough. 🙂
Oh, and wait ’til I post about the six foot iguanas we’ve been hunting, killing, and eating recently.
TL;DR: They taste like chicken.