Hummus!

I've been wanting to make hummus for ages now, and so today I decided hummus or bust. So hummus it was. I can't believe that I never made it before: Tahini, chickpeas, garlic, salt, food processor and voila! Added roasted peppers and some olive oil and I'm in heaven. It was blended to the consistency that I wanted (a bit crunchy) and it's ready to be devoured by N and yours truly. 

Why did it take me so long to make it? That is one of those questions that has no logical answer. I think that the tahini was the culprit, I didn't quite know where to get it from (I know, I know, I'm in NYC so I could have looked anywhere, I never looked, shoot me). So N suggested I go to this little Palestinian store in our neighborhood. Well, big mistake. I had been in the store once before and couldn't think why I had never gone back. The moment I stepped inside I remembered: I love that store! As soon as you walk-in the smell of spices greets you and lures to buy everything. You look at what they have on the shelves and even if you do not understand what is written, it looks so appealing that you want to get it and eat it right there on the spot. 

They have all kinds of couscous, semolina, rice, you name it, in little plastic bags that still have the look they were put together by hand. You want pita? I've never seen such a variety of it, and fresh! I passed by their desert display shutting my eyes because just the smell of honey and pistachios was making my mouth water. I strolled through the aisles all the while mumbling in an almost frenetic way "tahini, tahini" so as to remind myself that I had come for one, and only one condiment. I walked out with the tahini, roasted red peppers and Markouk bread, and quite proud of myself for not buying the entire store. 

I keep forgetting that besides the local, generic supermarket there are an infinite amount of small stores that carry amazing food and are kept by amazing people. The local Turkish store that is on my way home has one of my favorite snacks: Turkish pizza (or Lahmacun as I've learned it's called). If you've never tried it you have to; It's light, it's healthy, and it's soooo good. The small supermarket a couple of blocks away is mainly Korean and among many delicious things, has huge jars of Korean pickled cabbage (for like, nothing), the kind of thing that I would eat every day if it didn't kill my stomach. Curry? I am so close to Jackson Heights (or little India as it has been called) that I might as well be in New Delhi. The local Colombian restaurant makes for $5.99 one of the best roasted chickens I've had. There are a couple of Mexican stores that carry everything I need when I feel nostalgic. 

And the people? The manager of the small supermarket that is right by my subway station went as far as to call his mother to ask her for a good hummus recipe for me. The man from the Turkish deli greets me every morning, as does the Jewish old man that has a shoe-repair store. The cashier at the pharmacy sends me notes when it's hubby doing the shopping and the elder that is always standing by his building wishes me every morning a good day. 

I love my neighborhood. As much as I often feel that it's too far, or that I hate the subway ride, the fact that I can breathe when I leave Manhattan and feel like there are other human beings surrounding me makes it a special place to come back to. I've got the food, I've got the people. Doesn't get any much better than that now, does it?