For eons, hummus remained one of the best kept secrets amongst Middle Eastern communities. Eaten on the daily as a "mezzeh" or appetizer, it was an essential part of the dinner table. And in the last 30 years, as more communities from the region for whom the humble chickpea was of utmost importance established communities across the U.S., hummus not only continued to be made at home, it slowly ventured out to conquer the palates of Americans.
Through restaurants, cafes and delis run by immigrants, mainstream America developed a taste for hummus, which literally translates to "chickpea" in Arabic. With the advent of the most recognized hummus brand, "Sabra," coming on the scene on supermarket shelves, it morphed into as regular a food item in the the U.S. as salsa and egg rolls have become.
But a new, shocking chapter in the history of hummus in America has arrived. In fact, it's been lurking around for years, in the shadowy corners of refrigerated aisles and the annals of the dark web, where poorly executed business ideas try their luck in the digital market, with no Shark Tank industry titans in sight to stop them.
It was misinterpreted as a blank slate in which other, horrifyingly mismatched flavors have made their homes, completely destroying the very essence of hummus: the little legume that could, the garbanzo that has sustained ancient communities for so many centuries.
Here are some of the worst offenders yet:
