Hummus

Sit down, and let's talk about hummus properly, because most of what's sold under that name has forgotten what it's for.

At its heart, it's chickpeas, ground smooth with tahini, lemon and garlic. Chickpeas are legumes — no gluten, plenty of starch, and that starch is what gives hummus its body once the beans are cooked soft and worked into a paste. Tahini brings the fat; lemon brings the edge that wakes it all up. Taste it before you decide anything: good hummus is round on the tongue, a little nutty, a little sharp, never flat, never gluey.

Some people say hummus should be thick enough to stand a spoon in. No! That's not richness; that's dryness — too little tahini, too little liquid, not enough fat and water worked into the paste. Real hummus falls slowly off a spoon, loose, almost pourable, smooth and glossy, not stiff.

That misconception sends cooks straight toward adding more paste from the jar, thickening what was already tired, instead of loosening it with a little lemon, water or olive oil the way it wants.