Beet Hummus

They're baaaaaaack.

Beets. Pretty little suckers, I'll give you that. But it's their deep dirt earthy flavor I'm still struggling with. Still that doesn't keep them out of our CSA box every week.

Last summer we made them into beet chips with a side of curried yogurt dip and they were good. Really, addictively, shockingly good and I have to admit, I kind of loved them. So maybe, perhaps I don't hate beets as much as I think I do. In an effort to push my own culinary boundaries as much as I push the KC kids' and in penance for the cruel avocado trick I played on Looly last week: Beet hummus.

At least it's purple. That's something. Now, the original recipe did not call for garbanzo beans but I felt I had to include them both to warrant the "hummus" title as well as to convince myself that there was plenty of stuff in there that I like. I know. I can be very grown-up sometimes.

Once the beets are cooked, this hummus comes together so fast. I literally threw it together in the 5 minutes it took the kiddos to rescue their bikes and sidewalk chalk from the backyard before a thunderstorm was scheduled to roll through. By the first rumble, we were crunching naan chips with this lovely bowl of vibrant purple dip.

And guess what? It was good. Seriously good. The beets add a faint sweetness to the garlicky, lemony, creamy hummus with absolutely no dirt flavor to speak of. The cumin and tahini give the whole medley a satisfying warm nuttiness making it the perfect compliment for crisp mild vegetables or salty chips. And the color, well, you cannot beat that color. So, beets, perhaps there's something between us after all.

Beet Hummus
adapted from Simply Recipes

1/2 pound beets
1 cup canned garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
2 tbsp tahini
zest and juice of 2 lemons
1 clove garlic
1 tbsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp black pepper

Cut the greens off the beets and reserve them for another recipe or discard. Scrub the beets in cold water. Place them in a medium pot with and inch or two of water. Bring the pot to a boil then reduce heat and simmer until the beets are tender when pierced with a fork (about 30 minutes). Remove the beets from the cooking liquid and let cool slightly. Once their cool enough to handle, it should be fairly easy to pinch the skins off with your fingers. If you don't want purple hands, where gloves. Discard the skins.

Place the cooked, peeled beets in a food processor. Add the remaining ingredients and puree until smooth, thick and creamy. Serve with toasted pita bread, sliced vegetables, or naan crisps.

Mixed Bean and Radish Salad

Fish makes me nervous. It's not that I find most fish to be shady characters, it's more the unscheduled trip to the ER kind of nervous. Not rational. Roo has never tested positive for a fish or shellfish allergy and he has been tested. He's eaten fish multiple times with no reaction whatsoever, but for some reason every time I slip a little fish sauce into a marinade or dare place a flake or two of salmon on his plate my knees get a little quaky. Yup that, friends, is my idea of living on the edge.

My goal is to get the KC kids eating more fish, first, because I need to get over my own irrational fear that Roo's going to go into anaphylactic shock if he ingests an anchovy, and second, because kids who squeal at the sight of fish on a plate are annoying. That's not to be confused with kids whose parents choose not to give them fish for religious or moral reasons, sheer personal preference, or obviously, because they are allergic to fish. Those kids are not annoying. Well, maybe they are annoying, I really don't know. That's for you to decide. Anyway, that my kiddos balk at the smell of fish cooking is decidedly irritating and I'm taking steps to remedy it. Baby steps.

So here we go. Anchovies. Look, there they are right up top. Rest assured there is no way my children, particularly my girls, would entertain the notion of trying a bite of salad (or chocolate cake for that mattter) if they had the slightest inkling that there were tiny hairy fish in it. That's why I didn't mention it.

And fortunately they didn't ask.

Mixed Bean and Radish Salad
adapted from bon appetit

2 anchovy fillets, packed in oil, drained
3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbsp capers, drained
2 & 1/2 cups fresh flat-leaf parsley, divided (pack it into the cup to measure if you're a perfectionist)
1/3 cup red wine vinegar
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 bunch radishes, trimmed and sliced
1 15-ounce can garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
1 15-ounce can Great Northern beans, rinsed and drained
1 15-ounce can Cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
1 cup black olives, pitted and halved

Put the anchovies, oil, capers, and 1 cup of parsley into a food processor or blender. Puree until you have a slightly coarse, pulpy puree. Transfer to a small bowl, stir in the vinegar. Season with salt and pepper to taste, but watch the salt. Between the anchovies and capers, this is already one salty dressing.

Put the radishes, all the beans, olives, and remaining parsley in a large bowl. Pour the dressing over the top and toss gently. Do not mention the anchovies to anyone under 10 until they've finished eating.

In fairness, this wasn't the kids' favorite salad but they all managed a few bites (yeah, a few bites of briny, beany, radish salad with secret anchovies!) and that is progress. Happily, Roo survived yet another uneventful fish exposure. Though the idea of him and a bite of lobster still makes me start to lose my hearing. I'm working on it. And still the push for more fish on the KC table continues.

Miss M's Homemade Garlic Hummus

I have already professed my love for Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi's cookbook, Jerusalem. But just in case you didn't get the memo the first time, it is spectacular.

Here's the thing. You know how fancy European style bakeries seduce you with gooey rustic fruit tarts, fluffy whipped cream-topped pots de creme and snowy rows of toasted coconut pastries that legitimize all your 8-year-old fantasies about what dessert is supposed to be? Yeah, well, Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi do that too. But with vegetables. And legumes. 

Hummus, right. It's relatively innocuous. Two out of three KC kids dip carrot sticks and crackers in it by their own free will so that's something. I pick up a plastic container every couple of weeks at the grocery store, so why don't I ever make my own? Assuming you cook the beans ahead of time or use (gasp!) canned, it takes all of 10 minutes. That's not including resting time which I interpret more as sampling and adjusting time anyway.

As with most bean-based endeavors, Bean was looking forward to serving as kitchen assistant on Project Hummus. When the time came, however, she'd been sucked into a lengthy "game" of school with a relentless and exacting teacher, her big sister, Looly, and there was no recess to be had. Thankfully my adorable niece and cooking buddy, Miss M, stopped by to help me out instead.

At the risk of maxing out the cute-o-meter, I'm posting this photo of Miss M at work anyway. Look at that smirk! She was a stellar helper but do you think she tried a lick when we were finished? Not a chance.

Miss M's Homemade Garlic Hummus
Adapted from Jerusalem a Cookbook by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi

3 & 1/2 cups cooked garbanzo beans
1 cup tahini paste
4 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
8 cloves garlic (it is garlic hummus, people)
1 & 1/2 tsp salt
6 to 8 tbsp cold water
1 tbsp parsley, chopped
1 tbsp sunflower seeds

Put the garbanzo beans in a food processor. If your food processor canister is on the small side, like mine, you might want to divide everything in half and work in 2 batches. Miss M and I almost blew the lid off ours trying to do too much at once.

Process the beans until they form a paste. Keep the machine running and pour in the tahini, lemon juice, garlic, and salt. With the machine still running, add the water a tablespoon at a time until you reach your perfect hummus consistency. This is a most personal preference. For me it took 7 tablespoons. Let the hummus rest for 30 minutes or more.

Spoon the hummus onto a plate, garnish with parsley and a sprinkle of sunflower seeds for a little crunch. Serve with warm pita, carrot sticks, cucumber slices, or just about anything else you care to dip.

more garlic = more yummy

Chickpea Salad (Balilah)

I have a problem.

Despite the hundreds of post-it-notes peaking out from recipes waiting to be made in the scores of cookbooks I already own, I can't stop myself from bringing home just one more. Ever. But it could be worse - orphans, kittens, Maseratis.

I read cookbooks cover to cover. Based on the number of flagrant typos I come across, it seems not many other people do that. Shelf space is long gone so my most recent acquisitions reside in the middle of the kitchen island as a centerpiece of sorts. Mufasa's been kind enough not to mention it.

My current obsession is Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi. The photos are reason enough to buy the book but the message of hope, tolerance, and community is why you need to own it now. And the recipes!

Despite all the food challenges I run up against on a daily basis (textural sensitivity, nut allergy, egg allergy, eosinophilic esophagitis, diabetes, 4-year-olds...) it's awesome that Roo and Bean both love beans. Looly is another story but she's easily satiated with other forms of protein as long as they're accompanied by lemon wedges. Lemon steak? Don't knock it til you've tried it.

Beans, though. Beans are such perfect 4-year-old sustenance. Protein, fiber, folate, and no knife skills required. Garbanzos are Bean's absolute favorite and thanks to this fresh, lemony recipe courtesy of Jerusalem, they were in her lunchbox all last week.

Keep in mind that when using dried beans they're going to need to soak overnight. Try not to used canned beans here if you can help it. It's worth the wait.

Chickpea Salad (Balilah)
adapted slightly from Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi

1 cup dried chickpeas (AKA garbanzo beans)
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup flat-leaf parsley, chopped
3 green onions,thinly sliced
1 large lemon
3 tbsp olive oil
2 & 1/2 tsp ground cumin
1 clove garlic, minced or microplaned to a pulp
salt and pepper

1. Put the beans in a large bowl and cover them with plenty of cold water. Add the baking soda and let them sit out to soak overnight or at least 8 hours. They will have nearly doubled in volume by morning.
2. Drain the chickpeas and put them in a large pot covered once again with lots of cold water. Bring to a boil over high heat. Skim the foamy goop off the top of the water, turn down the heat and simmer for about 1 hour and 15 minutes. The beans will cook faster or slower depending on how fresh they are. Check them often after the first hour of cooking. They should yield when pinched between your fingers but fight the urge to cook them until they are mushy.
3. Meanwhile, put the parsley in a large bowl. Use a lemon zester or Microplane grater to zest the lemon (about 1 tbsp zest) into the parsley. Cut both ends off the lemon and using a sharp knife, remove the skin, the bitter white pith, and any seeds and discard. Chop the lemon flesh and add it to the bowl with the zest and parsley.
4. When the beans are soft (but not mushy!), drain them and add them while they're hot to the bowl with the parsley mixture. Add the olive oil, cumin, and garlic. Toss gently to combine. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Don't be stingy with the pepper. Serve at room temperature or in a lunchbox.