ZECHARIAH’S HUMMUS

"Many people struggle to make hummus that lives up to their expectations at home, and recreating a favourite brand or the stuff from your local deli is almost impossible."

- Yotam Ottolenghi

"And am going to cook it from here in your presence. Forget about these other people who cook from their homes and come to sell here when it has become cold. You will eat hot and spicy hummus from only here." He said as he sorted the cowpeas to use in the hummus.

He dropped the cowpeas in a jar having salted water for a few minutes to soak. When it had soaked for about five minutes, he drained out the water.

"I hear you, Zechariah, what else will you give me with the hummus?" Yosef asked.

Yosef Gideon had heard from his knight brothers who had sampled it, that hummus was good when combined with some other food. It served best as an appetizer for another meal.

"Well, for the price am charging you, me Zechariah. The hummus I will serve you will be accompanied by a piece of fresh bread. This bread was just baked today morning, trust me you will enjoy it." Zechariah said as he transferred the washed cowpeas into a wooden mortar. .

"I will believe your words when I taste that hummus and bread. Most of you traders are the same, full of praise for your foods even when you know there is a fault with them. What you care about most is selling." Yosef Gideon said before asking. "Am I wrong?"

"It is good that you have said that most of us, meaning it is not all of us. Me Zechariah, I was taught from childhood by my parents that cheating is not good, and even on Sabbath, our Rabbi Zedekiah emphasizes that we traders should not use dishonest scales. He says it's' written in the manuscript of prophet Ezekiel." Zechariah pointed out.

"Even if it means I will make a loss. I will endure it since it is better to be righteous than wicked. Have seen many traders who thought they were prospering from practicing dishonesty with their customers, but the end was not good, I tell you." Zechariah said as he shook his head in remembrance of their sad endings.

By now, Zechariah had transferred all the cowpeas into a medium-sized wooden mortar. He started gently pounding the washed cowpeas as if fearful that using much force will damage them. The pounding had it turning into a mashed paste-like substance. Occasionally, he could add in some olive oil, stir the mixture before dropping in some cumin and resume the pounding.

Seeing the way Zechariah was shaking his head, Yosef concluded that it must be a hell of a story. "If you don't mind you can tell me about it."

"No problem. It was a bitter experience for them and a deep lesson for me. By the way, I even tell my children not to take the guidance of us elders for granted. There are many stories but I will only tell you one. I have a feeling that we shall be meeting again several times, so we shall share very much." Zechariah was now slicing a lemon into two, before squeezing them into the hummus.

Then he proceeded to pick some garlic. Peeled off the rough dry outer skin, and cut it into very small pieces. Lastly, he dropped the pieces of garlic into the hummus and continued pounding for a while.

"There is this story of my friend Ibn from Damascus.

He was selling women's clothes in Jerusalem, he had a habit of selling women short-length dresses claiming it was the latest fashion in Cairo and Constantinople. Moreover at very high prices. I told him to stop, but he ignored me saying I was not developmental and that no trader could easily prosper if they are not somehow crafty in their dealings.

Soon enough, several men began complaining that Ibn the trader from Damascus was influencing their wives to wear non-Islamic dresses causing them to be admired by other men.

One man known as Qassim, was caught at noon time having sexual deeds with an elder's youngest and fourth wife. While other men went for noon prayers in the mosque. Qassim remained behind to disturb another man's family. It could not have been discovered had the elder not forgotten his zakat contribution home. Coming back to pick it up, he heard the unmistakable noises of his young wife moaning in pleasure and the rough groaning voice of another man. At first, he wanted to disbelieve it, thinking he was imagining things, but unfortunately when he entered his chamber. He saw, that the energetic Qassim was pounding away on top of his young wife, sweating and groaning like a he-goat, while enclosed in the thighs of his adorable wife.

The elder cried out in pain and shame of being cuckolded in his own house which he had built for her. The neighbors heard and rushed in to capture the couple.

The punishment for this kind of crime is stoning to death more so for the woman, but since the elder loved his young wife so much he pleaded that she be spared. Saying he had spent so much on her already and could not manage to live on if she is stoned to death. Saying Qassim must have forced himself on her.

Asking Qassim. He said he was tempted when he saw her beautiful legs from the short dresses she usually wore. He was not planning to have sex with her but after seeing glimpses of her beautiful thighs every day, he eventually lost the self-control to restrain himself and began approaching while enticing her with gifts that he stole from his father's shop.

Qassim could not be stoned to death, he was the son of a prominent businessman and clan leader in the area. So all the blame was transferred to the trader Ibn who supplied the immoral dresses.

The elder led a mob of angry residents to where Ibn was stationed. He was beheaded for selling satanic clothing, his shop was burnt down and his family members who were staying with him in Jerusalem were exiled for good, the home with all their possessions was confiscated. They went out in shame and grieving, the only thing they remained with was the clothes on their backs.

Qassim was flogged hundred times, heavily fined, and sent away from the community so that he does not affect other men's wives. After all, most successful Arab men have young wives who are at least twenty years younger than them. Most of the time, these young women have a craving for energetic young men to give them the pleasure that their old and tired husbands can not deliver daily since they rotate amongst the four wives." Zechariah completed his story while picking the hummus from the stove where he had briefly cooked it.

"My, my that is really a tragic story," Yosef exclaimed.

"Mister. Here is your hummus applied on this fresh and sweet bread." Zechariah said while handing in the warm hummus thickly applied on the several pieces of bread.

"Thank you, Zechariah. You can call me Yosef Gideon, am not comfortable with the mister title. Makes me feel too important and old." He told Zechariah, feeling that they should no longer be strangers.

"Ok, Yosef Gideon. Enjoy your hummus. Like I told you, the recipe I have used is an ancient one which has been passed down in our family for several generations." Zechariah narrated.

"Wow! This bread with hummus is very delicious." Yosef smiled while taking a big bite of the hummus-covered bread and nodding his head in appreciation.

He began biting into the bread with a lot of passion, all the while taking a few seconds to savor the special taste in his mouth. Not rushing to swallow, even after biting into small chunks that were easy to swallow and digest.

"Mmmh, wish I could eat like this every day," Yosef commented as he picked the second hummus-covered piece of bread.

"That is very doable Mister Yosef, am here every evening from Sunday to Friday before sunset. Have to leave early on Friday, the Sabbath should find me at home or in the synagogue." Zechariah told him.

"I invite you to my home for the Sabbath, you will love it. My wife prepares very good food, ten times better than what you have tasted here. My home is just across the street in that direction." Zechariah pointed in the direction of his home.

"Even if you get lost, just ask for the home of Zechariah the trader, son of Obed and you will be shown over.

My family is very famous in this area, we are amongst the first Jews to return back to Jerusalem ever since we were displaced by the Romans in 70AD when the magnificent second temple of Herod was destroyed." He said while sadly looking in the direction of the Dome of the Rock mosque.

By now, Yosef was eating his last piece of hummus with bread.

"Here Zechariah, this is the money for the hummus. I have really loved it, the only thing missing is a cup of tea." Yosef handed him the agreed-upon ten copper deniers which picked from his brown wallet.

"Thank you very much, mister Yosef. Sorry I mean Yosef Gideon. It is just that am used to using mister a lot. But am changing, this is the last time you hear me using that word." Zechariah picked up the money from Yosef.

"Do not forget my invitation to visit my home for Sabbath this week, there is no need for you to come here and wait for me. Just go home in that direction, do you see that street?" He asked while pointing to the street adjacent to the one they were on.

"Yes, I see that street. I Am told most of the Jews in Jerusalem live there." Yosef responded.

"Once you are there, you won't get lost, remember to ask for the home Zechariah the son of Obed. Let me work on this customer, it was good serving you." He said while receiving his next customer with flattery words.

'What a nice fella, even if he has many words.' Yosef thought as he walked away.

He was worried about how he was going to spend his time in Jerusalem but now that he had got an invitation for a Sabbath visit at the home of Zechariah the son of Obed. He had something to look forward to while waiting for another appointment with Abbott Jeromy.