And now a word about a very serious matter... (Quoted from a friend's blog)

I could not have put it better! From another Fulbright fellow: http://avi-rubin.blogspot.com/2011/01/halfway-hummus.html


Now, let me say a few words about a very sensitive topic. It's such an important and yet delicate topic that I hesitate to even go there, at the risk of alienating my Israeli friends who might read this posting. But, a good journalist does not shy away from the truth, no matter what the risks. The topic is, of course, Hummus. There, I've opened up a can of worms, let the genie out of the bottle and closed the barn door after the horse already escaped.

I had no idea how important the topic of Hummus was before I came to Israel. The first hint of the gravity of this subject matter came when we first arrived, while we were waiting for our luggage at Ben Gurion airport, but we were not in tune enough to register the import of the discussion. A gentleman standing beside me struck up a conversation. "Where are you going? For how long? Where will you be living? Oh, Ramat Aviv Gimel, that's a great place. Pause. There is an excellent Hummus place there." A seemingly benign observation. From my perspective, he might as well have said, "There is a great pizza place there," or "There is a good coffee house in Gimel." Only now, with the benefit of hindsight do I realize how he went out on a limb with that comment. He took a position; drew a line in the sand. Indeed, those were fighting words. You do not praise a Hummus place lightly in Israel.

Over time, I came to realize that while there are many religious debates raging in this part of the world, few are as ferocious or as universal as the wrangling over Hummus. Take Rosh Hashana. We were invited over to the Israeli parents of friends of ours for one of the evening meals. Before dinner, we're sitting in the living room, and one of the locals declares that the best Hummus in Israel comes from an Arab village outside of Jerusalem. This was followed by a silence that would have made E.F. Hutton uncomfortable. It was eventually broken by a somewhat timid and yet defiant Israeli who opined that while that Hummus was definitely above the bar, it was nothing compared to his place of choice in Yaffo. Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked back at the original speaker. This was a critical moment. The fate of our evening seemingly hung in the balance. I was nervous, but also curious to see how this would play out. The battle lines were clearly drawn, and neither side seemed likely to concede an inch. Fortunately, the host was able to dissolve the tension by declaring that dinner was ready, a sure fire tactic for breaking up any confrontation among Jews.

The Rosh Hashana Hummus debacle was a forerunner of things to come. One day, I noticed that our corner grocery store had dozens of Hummus containers with every flavor one could imagine.

I took a picture with my phone and posted it on Facebook musing that there were so many types of Hummus to be found, "And none of them are any good!" was an immediate comment posted by one of my Israeli friends, causing a chain reaction of replies that made me wonder if the topic was going to end up on Mark Zuckerberg's desk and cause a change in Facebook's tolerance policies.

Perfectly reasonable people continuously surprise me by their passion for Hummus and their close mindedness with respect to anything but the Hummus that they believe in. On several instances when I had lunch with faculty at the university, the topic turned to Hummus, and I observed reasonable people discussing the ins and out of this delicacy (who knew that Hummus had ins and outs?). How Hummus should be prepared, how it is served, where to buy it, how long it keeps. The level of intensity and passion people bring to this subject is stunning. Thus, it was no surprise to me when I mentioned to a colleague that I sometimes bike to Yaffo in the morning, that he sent me this link to his favorite Hummus place there.

One of the funniest moments came when Ann and I were in services during the high holidays. The Rabbi was giving his sermon and making some announcements in Hebrew. I was simultaneously translating for Ann. At the end of the speech, the Rabbi announces that on Sukkot, there is going to be a potluck dinner. He then went into some detail about how there was a need to coordinate what dishes people bring because "we can't have everybody bringing Hummus". Clearly this had been a problem in the past.

I actually really like Hummus. But to me, it all tastes the same. I'm sure that for writing this, I am now on a Mossad watch list, and that a more heretical statement could not be made. Ann tells me Hummus is fattening, so I'll be limiting my consumption, to the extent that it's possible to do that in Israel.

If you visit Israel, you should look forward to having great Hummus as well as great Hummus discourse. I'm told that it's much better than the packaged stuff you get in the US. I wish I could taste a difference.