The Hummus Plate has left the building. And what's hummus doing in the Mountain South anyway? Doing what it does best, filling my belly. But, I guess the availability of fresh hummus, fresh cucumbers, and pita--all things that you can find at the Piggly Wiggly, Winn-Dixie, Food City, or Kroger-- has prohibited the management of the Acoustic Coffee House from continuing to include it on their menu. Last week after hearing the bad news, I tried the Hummus Sandwich. 
Yuck. It just didn't do it for me. For one, it was light on the hummus. For two, it wasn't homemade. I recognized it as storebought. No, wait. Maybe it was bone fide hummus, and the stuff I eventually ate today in the plate was the fake deal. For three, it was difficult to eat and its parts kept falling out from between the peices of bread. It was a decent sandwich after all. I fear I have been too harsh, but, it simply was not my favorite. As I contemplated the menu, I dialogued with the cook/server/barrista and she slipped me a hummus plate on the side. It was delish. That such human kindness still exists in an America that politically perplexes me is truly amazing.
So hummus apparently has no recent history and is a Mediterranean product, though indelibly associated with Syrian cuisine. It has existed since antiquity. And the recipe varies depending upon who's making it. Typically it includes: cooked chickpeas, sesame, tahini, lemon juice, garlic, and assorted spices.
How did it come to the South? I found a 1999 reference in Southern Living, but surely it was documented well before 1999. The search begins...
