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Showing posts with label cook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cook. Show all posts

Wednesday 5 February 2014

If Kevin Pietersen was Australian …


kp

Nine months ago, a proud cricketing nation was in turmoil. Dressing room dissent was ubiquitous and their highly regarded captain under fire. Senior players were disillusioned with the management structure and key members of the squad even refused to do their homework (the horror!).

This is the team that recently won the Ashes 5-0. It didn’t take much to sort things out, did it. They drew a line under their disagreements – like good men do – and united in a common cause.

The Aussies didn’t look for scapegoats. They assimilated the troublemakers. They did not – I repeat not – drop their best players for complaining about the captain and coach. Had they done so, and jettisoned the likes of Shane Watson in a fit of petulance (“how dare you question us”), they wouldn’t have won the Ashes.

The Aussies knew that sacking the rebels would leave huge holes in their side. They realised they had nobody better than Philip Hughes and Usman Khawaja – players not of an international standard – to replace the rebellious big guns.
The Australians were practical. The ACB wasn’t impressed with Watson’s sulking, but they accepted that losing sides in international sport (whatever the sport) tend to argue a bit. Dissent, when all is going wrong, is a fact of life.

When faced with such crises, management teams have two options: they can either get over it, shake hands and move on, or throw the cry-baby out with the bath water and cut off their own nose to spite their face.

Although this is probably one metaphor too many, it’s clear the Ashes winners chose the first option (the difficult one which brings rewards in the long run), whilst England, the miserable losers, have chosen the latter.

England, in my opinion, have chosen the easy option: the weak, lazy and, let’s not beat around the bush here, the selfish option – in other words, putting personal prejudice, scapegoating, and making their individual lives easier, ahead of the general welfare. The ECB’s pride, and their desire to teach a rebel a lesson, has triumphed over cricketing logic.

The decision to ditch Kevin Pietersen from international cricket is a weak decision made by weak men – and it’s come about because England have a weak captain, and an even weaker management team.

Not everyone in the Aussie dressing room gets on with Michael Clarke, but he doesn’t need to be mollycoddled. Clarke and Lehmann do not need to purge strong personalities in order to create an intangible ‘team ethic’. The same cannot be said of Alastair Cook, who is lucky to retain his job, and England’s coach in waiting, Ashley Giles.

Australia has a history of good players clashing in the dressing room: Shane Warne didn’t like John Buchanan, wasn’t afraid to tell everyone, and openly admits his teammates didn’t always get along. If only they’d dropped Warne, or Matthew Hayden, in his pomp to improve the team ethic. Had they done so, we would have laughed at them.

We hear rumours about an altercation between Cook and Pietersen in Sydney, but if the Aussies had dropped every player that swore at Ricky Ponting, the Skoda driver behind the wheel of a Ferrari, there wouldn’t have been enough touring Australian players to comprise an XI. When your captain isn’t very good, there’s bound to be dissent and backbiting about tactics.

The Aussies responded to their troubles by appointing Darren Lehmann – a good egg who everyone liked. He got the players to make up, put Australia first, and stop looking for scapegoats.

Lehmann assessed the likes of David Warner – the bad boy who likes to throw punches as well as throwing his wicket away – and thought hmmm, there’s a management challenge here. He did not – I repeat not – label Warner as disruptive and throw him out of the team. Lehmann wanted his best players. Lehamann was rewarded.

So why have England’s committee done the opposite? In this observer’s opinion, it’s all down to personalities and circumstances. England’s committee consisted of newly installed chief selector James Whitaker (a nice guy new to his job), Paul Downton (also new to his job), Ashley Giles (a guy desperate for a new job), and Alastair Cook (a man fighting to keep his job).

Essentially, all these men were / are in weak positions. The last thing they need at the moment is a headache like Pietersen. They’d rather make things as simple as possible going forward.

What’s more, all of them are acutely aware that their paymasters, the ECB, want Pietersen out. Why else make the decision before a new coach has been officially appointed?! Why not let the new coach decide if he wants to work with KP?

The ECB dislike Pietersen, with his big mouth and refusal to settle for second best (think Roy Keane), as much as they love Ashley Giles, the steady eddy who goes out of his way to be amenable and smile at the right people (think Roy Hodgson, but without the experience or credentials).

It speaks volumes that a fortnight ago, Giles described KP as a million pound asset and wanted him in the side for the world T20. One meeting with the ECB later, suddenly Giles is part of a unanimous committee that doesn’t want England’s best player. Gilo has, in effect, rolled over and had his belly tickled. Funny that.

The ECB have had it in for Pietersen ever since he told them that Peter Moores was out of his depth. It matters not that Moores was indeed out of his depth, the truth doesn’t matter: it’s all about the principle of being shown up by an underling.

When England were going stale under Andy Flower and Andrew Strauss, once again it was Pietersen – arguably the hardest working and dedicated player in the side – who refused to let things lie. He might have gone about things the wrong way, but it showed he cared.

What’s more, Pietersen was spot on in his analysis (again). Andrew Strauss didn’t resign because he couldn’t work with KP. He resigned because he knew his straight-talking teammate was right: Strauss’ tactics weren’t working anymore, he wasn’t scoring enough runs, and it was time to move on.

Unfortunately, however, being right – or even being good for that matter – doesn’t matter to the ECB. Remember the time when an England selector uttered, to the fans’ astonishment, the immortal phrase: “what does Graham Thorpe bring to the England side except runs?”

And herein lies the problem. The ECB acts like a club that enjoys patting itself on the back. If you can dress correctly, say the right things, and keep your head down, then your face fits. But if you don’t suffer fools lightly, and you resent stuffiness and incompetence, you’re a loose cannon whose days are numbered.

Why else would the ECB stay married to Cook – a poor captain who scored less runs that Pietersen in Australia – and line up Ashley Giles, who has an extremely poor record but is the archetypal committeeman, as head coach?
The bottom line is this: if you took the ECB out of the equation, and concocted a recipe for Ashes success in 2015, Kevin Pietersen would probably be captain. Alastair Cook would be consigned to the rank and file. Meanwhile, Ashley Giles would be nowhere near the management team. He certainly wouldn’t have been fast tracked as a selector and then ODI coach.

For all the talk of England moving on for the right reasons, we know all the real agenda here – and it’s got nothing to do with cricket. Kevin Pietersen is the same age as Michael Clarke – the captain nobody liked. I don’t see Australia dropping their best player because they need to look forward. Clarke is 10-3 to be their leading run scorer against South Africa in the latest online odds, and will remain their linchpin until 2015 at least.

England’s best player, meanwhile, is out in the cold at the age of 33. He’s been labelled as unmanageable, but what the ECB really mean is that Cook (and probably Giles) cannot manage him.

Darren Lehmann had a dressing room full of rebels. England can’t cope with one. It’s pathetic.

Saturday 15 June 2013

Bob Willis accuses England of ball-tampering in Champions Trophy

AFP 15 Jun 2013 in TOI

CARDIFF (United Kingdom): England have found themselves at the centre of a tampering row after former captain Bob Willis accused them of scratching the ball.

The alleged incident took place during England's seven-wicket Champions Trophyone-day international defeat by Sri Lanka at The Oval on Thursday when Pakistani umpire Aleem Dar and his New Zealand on-field colleague Billy Bowden ordered one of the balls in use to be changed while the Lankans were batting.

"Let's not beat about the bush -- Aleem Dar is on England's case," Willis told Saturday's edition of the Sun tabloid.

"He knows that one individual is scratching the ball for England -- who I am not going to name -- and that's why the ball was changed," insisted Willis, one of England's greatest fast bowlers.

"Have you ever heard about the batting side or the umpire complaining about the shape of the ball?" added Willis, on of only four England bowlers to have taken 300 Test wickets.

Under current rules for one-day internationals, two white balls are in use for each innings.

Balls can be changed for legitimate reasons, such as being knocked out of shape as a result of forceful hits by batsmen, and are often done so at the request of the fielding side.

However, on Thursday it appeared that it was Sri Lanka's Kumar Sangakkara who complained about the condition of the ball when his side was 119 for two at the halfway stage of their reply to England's seemingly imposing 293 for seven.

England were unhappy as their attack was starting to gain reverse swing, which was key to their opening victory over Australia and is aided by natural wear and tear of the ball, with captain Alastair Cook leading the protests.

However, the replacement ball moved little and Sangakkara went on to complete a superbunbeaten hundred to guide Sri Lanka to victory.

After the match, Cook said: "The ball was changed because it was out of shape. The umpires make these decisions and you have to accept them. Sometimes you don't think they are the right decisions."

But Willis, an England captain in the early 1980s, told the Sun: "How naive does Alastair Cook think we are? He didn't want the ball changed. So why was it changed?

"It is OK for the ball to scuff through natural wear and tear -- but against cricket's laws to use fingernails or other means to alter its condition."

Australian umpire Darrell Hair, together with West Indies' Billy Doctrove, docked Pakistan five runs for ball-tampering during a controversial Test against England in 2006.

Pakistan subsequently forfeited the match in protest -- the first time this had happened in Test history.

They were subsequently exonerated by an International Cricket Council (ICC) investigation and the ensuing row ultimately cost Hair his career as a senior international umpire.

However, the match officials in the England-Sri Lanka match took no similar action and the ICC explained that as the umpires haven't reported anything and no team has complained, they were not planning to take any action.

England must beat New Zealand in Cardiff on Sunday to seal a semi-final spot. If they lose they are out and either Australia or Sri Lanka will go through after their match on Monday.

If the England-New Zealand match is a washout they will need a low scoring Australia victory to go through. If both matches are washed out, England will qualify behind New Zealand.

Friday 5 April 2013

Why Cook's right for England



Or: the merits of long-term character over short-term flashiness
Ed Smith
April 3, 2013
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Alastair Cook was left frustrated by the weather, New Zealand v England, 2nd Test, Wellington, 5th day, March 18, 2013
Cook: not a "natural" leader, and that's perfectly fine © PA Photos 
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Players/Officials: Alastair Cook | Brendon McCullum
Series/Tournaments: England tour of New Zealand
Teams: England
Alastair Cook took on the job of England Test captain with a reputation as a man unlikely to spring many surprises. In fact, he has produced two shocks already: a series win over India, coming back from 0-1 down, and then a scramble to avoid series defeat against eighth-placed New Zealand.
Captaincy being what it is - a convenient mechanism for pundits to shoehorn their general opinions of a team into a judgement of a single human being, as though the captain actually is the team - Cook has already experienced an accelerated cycle of ups and downs. Lauded in India, he was immediately widely criticised for his tactics in New Zealand.
Both judgements were hasty and incomplete. India first. England did superbly to win the series. But it was, in fact, a moment of hubris that let them back into the series. India prepared an ultra-turning pitch for the second Test, in Mumbai, mistakenly believing they were attacking England's weakness. In fact, the decision empowered Monty Panesar, who helped swing the series. On flat pitches, as we later saw in New Zealand, Panesar would have been unlikely to challenge the Indian batsmen. If India hadn't got cute with their pitch preparation, England would have struggled.
Then, in New Zealand, though Cook clearly made some mistakes, I saw nothing to challenge my initial view that Cook possesses the tools to become a very considerable England captain. In fact, after one winter in the job, I think it is more likely than ever that Cook will prove to be the right man for the job. If the England management takes a single lesson from the tour, it should be to do everything possible to provide Cook with as much support as possible. Here are three reasons why England should feel optimistic about backing Cook:
A huge question mark about all captains is how office will affect their individual performance. A captain has a short shelf-life if he doesn't produce his fair share of runs and wickets (invoking the example of Mike Brearley does not buy much time in the modern game). Cook's form, if you take the whole winter as a whole, has been spectacular. Seven matches, four hundreds, all of them scored in critical situations.
Ah, but we always knew he could bat. Can he set a field? Many successful captains have been widely regarded as tactically unremarkable. Allan Border was never talked about as a captain who set innovative, surprising fields. He relied on leading by example through his personal resilience and tenacity. It worked. Andrew Strauss led England to two Ashes victories, throughout which time a standard view in the media was that he was "tactically naïve". I challenge anyone to reach 35 years old as a professional sportsman and remain "naïve". No, the word is "cautious", or, if you're feeling more generous, "conventional".
The crucial point here is that you never get everything with one captain. Imagine having to choose between two leaders. The first is a talented, adventurous tactician who is personally unreliable and a flaky performer. The second is a strong, reliable player and a courageous person but a cautious and unsurprising tactician. Give both captains 50 matches in charge with the full support of the management. I know where my money lies about who will achieve the better results.
 
 
I asked Geoff Boycott if he could remember an England batsman who had a more admirable talent-to-performance ratio. Boycott had to go back to David Steele before he could think of someone who had squeezed more from his ability
 
The media generally overrates captains who are exciting and interesting to watch. That is partly because such captains provide more talking points, hence making the media's job easier. Alpha-male captains also receive disproportionate praise. Pundits are quick to credit the work of "natural captains" - by which they usually mean people with gladiatorial body language - even though a moment's reflection reveals that the whole concept of a natural captain is undermined by the extraordinary diversity of characters who have become successful captains.
We saw the "alpha male/pro-adventure" bias at work in the reaction to Brendon McCullum's captaincy. The experts loved him because he was bold, intuitive and original. And I would generally agree. But a bandwagon effect emerged in which everything McCullum tried was greeted with gasps of admiration, while many tactics Cook used were written off without first considering whether it was the fault of the tactic or simply the fault of the execution by the bowler.
Let me give two examples to balance the ledger. On the last morning of the final Test, in Auckland, McCullum, searching for a victory, opened the bowling with the part-time offspin of Kane Williamson rather than his best bowler, Trent Boult. The batsmen at the crease were Ian Bell and Joe Root, both accomplished players of spin. By that point in the series, however, it had already been decided that McCullum was "a brilliant tactician", so the mistake slipped by mostly without criticism.
A second example came in the over before the second-last one of the match. After the fourth ball, McCullum seemed undecided about whether to bring up the field or leave it out. It seemed to me that everyone in the New Zealand team had an opinion and McCullum was finding it difficult to navigate events. Finally, watch again the last over of the match. Many arms were waving around in the field, not all of them belonging to McCullum. Had it been Cook, this would have been taken as evidence that he was insufficiently "in charge".
My point, far from attacking McCullum, is two-fold. First, the incredibly challenging role of captaincy demands constant decision-making, not just "natural leadership". Secondly, any captain can be easily criticised if you are minded to search for mistakes.
We already know enough about Cook to be sure he is an exceptionally balanced and accomplished young man. At the age of 28, he has more hundreds than any other Englishman. More revealingly, he has batted with more prolonged calmness and self-awareness than any English player I have seen. In New Zealand, I asked Geoff Boycott if he could remember an England batsman who had a more admirable talent-to-performance ratio. Boycott had to go back to David Steele before he could think of someone who had squeezed more from his ability, and Cook, of course, has far more ability to squeeze.
In making predictions, we should be guided by past achievements. Cook has a proven record of self-improvement. After one winter of varied, difficult Test cricket, there is no evidence to overthrow the presumption that Cook the captain will follow a similar path to Cook the batsman. Put differently, English cricket should back long-term character not short-term flashiness.
****
A favourite theme of this column is the tension, in both sport and life, between rationality and intuitive judgement. There is no doubt about the orientation of Trouble With the Curve, Clint Eastwood's new film about baseball. It is a manifesto for homespun wisdom, experience and intuition, and a thinly veiled attack on data, innovation and novelty.
Eastwood's film is the inverse Moneyball. Michael Lewis' story was full of liberal optimism, how the scientific method could shine a light on sporting success. It lampooned the faux-wisdom of old baseball scouts, the crusty old men in baseball jackets with their arch-conservatism and imperviousness to the evidence. Now, with Trouble With the Curve, we have the conservative rejoinder. These flash guys with laptops: phonies, charlatans, lightweights. The old men in the stands: sages, gurus, keepers of the flame.
You do not have to take sides to enjoy both interpretations of sport. Indeed, perhaps not taking sides ideologically is a prerequisite for a full enjoyment of sport. Five years ago I wrote this in my book What Sport Tells Us About Life:
We are what we want to see when we watch sport. The angry fan finds tribal belonging; the pessimist sees steady decline and fall; the optimist hails progress in each innovation; the sympathetic soul feels every blow and disappointment; the rationalist wonders how the haze of illogical thinking endures.
What I failed to point out in that paragraph is that we all, to some degree, take on each of those perspectives within one lifetime. One individual sports fan can be all of those people, sometimes simultaneously.
Sport provides us with a never-ending conversation about the nature of experience. Not only do we constantly change our minds, we never reach a final judgement. We are right not to.

Friday 10 February 2012

My Weltanschhaung - 10/2/2012

I am pleased at the new Cameron proposal, - 'Elderly people should be encouraged to go back to work and move into smaller homes'. Thats one more supply side policy. The principle behind it: the purpose of every human being is to contribute to society until death and the Cameron policy exemplifies it. So retirement will only be for the rich, this policy is a third world policy indeed. But who will hire them, I ask? Also, had Britain become a third world country?

I am also pleased that tax breaks are planned for those who employ cooks and cleaners. This is a good way to boost GDP, after all the cooking and cleaning services provided by stay at home parents are free and are not included in the GDP figures.

Its funny the interesting stories seem to appear only in the Daily Telegraph.

Thursday 11 August 2011

Is Hummus a near-sacred foodstuff, or a bland, beige paste with good PR?

How to make perfect hummus


Felicity's perfect hummus.
Felicity's perfect hummus. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian
Whatever happened to the dip? Once the apogee of sophisticated entertaining in their dinky quartered tubs, these gloopy mixtures – thousand island, cheese and chive, the graveyard of a million splintered Pringles – were quietly dethroned, sometime in the late 1990s, by an invasion from the eastern Mediterranean: salmon pink taramasalata, garlicky tzatziki and, most successful of all, hummus, the colour and texture of wet mortar. Suddenly, the world went beige.
Of course, it wasn't long before we made hummus our own, adding sweet chilli sauce, pesto, sun-dried tomatoes – in fact, the chickpea has good-naturedly absorbed well-nigh every food fad that's gripped the nation over the last decade – but despite its popularity, very few of us actually make our own. Which is a shame, because fresh hummus is a world away from the sour slurry, seasoned with preservatives, and solid enough to retile the bathroom with, sold under the name in many supermarkets – and half the price too.

Chickpeas in our time: tinned v dried v posh

The beauty of hummus, as far as I'm concerned, is how easy it is to sling together at the last minute from the cupboard – a tin of chickpeas, a spoonful of tahini, some lemon juice and garlic, and you've got the makings of lunch … as well as plenty of time to reflect upon your sins in using such inferior produce, because no true hummus head can abide tins. They're all wrong texturally, apparently, and the flavour … well, according to blogger Helen Graves, they "pong" to boot. Well, that's me told.
Claudia Roden recipe hummus Claudia Roden's hummus recipe with (clockwise from top left), tinned, dried, jarred and skinned tinned chickpeas. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian However, in the interests of lazy cooks everywhere, I'm making two identical hummuses from Claudia Roden's recipe in Arabesque – one using dried chickpeas, as she directs, and one with a tin from the cupboard. The dried chickpeas definitely have a nuttier flavour (although, having helped myself to a few, I reject the idea that the others are actively unpleasant), but they also give the hummus a grainier texture. I've obviously been lucky with my tin; according to complaints online, many brands are crunchy and undercooked, whereas the Italian ones sold by my local (Turkish) grocer are fast approaching mushy.
Flavourwise though, I need to trade up, which is where Lebanese food writer Anissa Helou comes in. Although she decries such conveniences in her 2003 book, Lebanese Cuisine ("I do not like the taste or texture of tinned food"), by 2007's Modern Mezze, her attitude has relented: "I used to make hommus the old-fashioned slow way … However, you can now buy jars of excellent ready-cooked chickpeas, preserved in water and salt, without added artificial preservatives".
I find some in my local overpriced organic supermarket, modestly priced at just £2.99 for 425g – but I can at least see the difference. They're double the size of the tinned sort, and the hummus I make with them is buttery and smooth, with what my flatmate describes in a forced blind tasting as a "lovely flavour". If you're going to cheat, do it properly.

Secret (softening) agents

The problem with Roden's chickpeas may well be that, despite lengthy pre-soaking (28 hours, in fact), and four hours of cooking to render them edible, they're just not soft enough. I suspect my local shop, which bills itself as a Mediterranean Supermarket, has quite a high turnover in the dried chickpea department, but the fact remains that, without a pressure cooker, melting softness can be quite difficult to achieve – and it's absolutely vital for good hummus.
Ottolenghi recipe hummus Ottolenghi recipe hummus. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian Everyone else, from Anissa Helou to Yotam Ottolenghi, recommends adding a little bicarbonate of soda to the soaking water: this time-honoured trick, according to kitchen chemistry whizz Hervé This, prevents the calcium in my London tapwater from cementing together the pectin molecules in the pea's cell walls – in fact, the alkaline water that it produces actively encourages these pectins to separate, producing a softening effect (I recommend a perusal of This's Kitchen Mysteries for a more coherent scientific explanation).
Ottolenghi uses 1½ tbsp bicarb per 500g dried chickpeas: 1 tbsp in the soaking water, and the rest in the pan. After the same soaking period as Roden's, his chickpeas take a quarter of the time to cook – and achieve that lovely fluffy texture which makes such great hummus. Nigella, meanwhile, who makes a very sensible point about the global conspiracy to pretend chickpeas cook far quicker than they do (see also, risotto), uses a slightly different method, credited to her mentor, Anna del Conte.
She soaks the dried chickpeas in cold water and a mixture of bicarb, flour and salt – the last, according to Harold McGee, speeds the eventual cooking time, but reduces the swelling of starch granules within the beans, giving a "mealy internal texture, rather than a smooth one", but the rationale behind the flour I'm unable to fathom. In any case, Nigella's chickpeas take very slightly longer than Ottolenghi's, and have a slightly grittier texture, so I'll trust the latter on this one.
(Two points to note – too much bicarb can give the chickpeas an unpleasant soapy quality, so always err on the side of caution. It's also been suggested that it robs them of much of their nutritional value, but I couldn't find any data on this, or what effect the alternative, a much lengthier cooking time, has: all information most welcome.)

Two top tips

Paula Wolfert hummus Paula Wolfert hummus. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian While trawling through reams of hummus lore online, I come across Paula Wolfert's claim that, during an assignment on "the best hummus in Israel", she discovered that peeling chickpeas gave a "superior colour and flavour" to the end product. The fact that chickpeas even had skins was news for me, but they're actually very easy to slip off, once the chickpeas are cooked; although given the size of the things, it's a mindless, rhythmic activity for a night in front of the telly. I don't like the texture it gives Roden's recipe though – hummus varies from chunky to silken smooth, and this is too far down the latter road to for my taste; more like a mousse than a dip.
Wolfert also passes on a tip she picked up on her trip: mixing the tahini with lemon juice and garlic until it "tightens up", and then loosening it with cold water before stirring it into the hummus – a move intended to create a lighter, creamier texture. She's right on this one – it makes a subtle, but discernible difference, preventing the clagginess that sometimes dogs this dip.

Flavourings

Although I'm not averse to abusing the chickpea's easy-going nature on occasion (I can particularly recommend the carrot and cardamom hummus from Alice Hart's new book, Vegetarian), here I'm sticking to the time-honoured quartet of chickpeas, tahini, lemon juice and garlic – no peanut butter, Nigella, and no dried mint thank you Elizabeth David.
Nigella recipe hummus Nigella recipe hummus. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian Nigella's basic recipe, however, is interesting in that it's lightened with Greek yoghurt – "as far as authenticity goes, I don't make any claims," she admits, but "homemade hummus can be stodgy and claggy, and I love the tender whippedness that you get in restaurant versions". I agree – it adds richness without weight, but after experimenting, I discover a similar texture can be achieved through judicious application of chickpea cooking water.
I don't think you need the olive oil Nigella adds either; I prefer to keep mine as a topping, to be soaked up by the pitta – but one innovation I will be keeping is her pinch of cumin. It's not a standard ingredient, although by no means unknown in the Middle East, but it makes a real difference to the end result.
The balance of garlic and lemon juice is very personal, but I'd stick with the ratio of tahini to chickpea given here: too much of the sesame seed paste gives a sticky, sweet result – I think even Ottolenghi overplays it. As my tester observes, hummus ought to taste of chickpeas.

How to top it

Hummus is, of course, ideal dipping material, but it can also be dressed up into a proper meal – Ottolenghi's recipe in Plenty has it with broad bean paste, hard-boiled eggs and raw onion (not "the lightest affair, but … completely delicious"), while the recipe in the Moro cookbook includes a sweetly spiced topping of minced lamb, caramelised onions and pine nuts, which I urge you to try. Even if you're serving it as a dip, a sprinkling of paprika, or (my own personal favourite), lemony za'tar, sets it well apart from the common supermarket herd.

Perfect hummus

Felicity's perfect hummus Felicity's perfect hummus. Photograph: Felicity Cloake for the Guardian Hummus may be simple, but that doesn't mean it's easy – there's an awful lot of disappointing dips out there. Take time to cook the chickpeas properly, and season ever-so-gradually, until the heat of the garlic, and the zing of the lemon suits your particular idea of perfection, and you'll remember just why this unassuming Middle Eastern staple stole our hearts in the first place.
Serves 4
200g dried chickpeas
1½ tsp bicarbonate of soda
6 tbsp tahini
Juice of 1 lemon, or more to taste
3 cloves garlic, crushed, or according to taste
Pinch of cumin
Salt, to taste
Olive oil, to top
Paprika or za'tar, to top (optional)

1. Put the chickpeas in a bowl and cover with twice the volume of cold water. Stir in 1 tsp of bicarbonate of soda and leave to soak for 24 hours.
2. Drain the chickpeas, rinse well and put in a large pan. Cover with cold water and add the rest of the bicarb. Bring to the boil, then turn down the heat and simmer gently until they're tender – they need to be easy to mush, and almost falling apart, which will take between 1 and 4 hours depending on your chickpeas. Add more hot water if they seem to be boiling dry.
3. Leave them to cool in the water, and then drain well, reserving the cooking liquid, and setting aside a spoonful of chickpeas as a garnish. Mix the tahini with half the lemon juice and half the crushed garlic – it should tighten up – then stir in enough cooled cooking liquid to make a loose paste. Add this, and the chickpeas, to a food processor and whizz to make a purée.
4. Add the cumin and a generous pinch of salt, then gradually tip in enough cooking water to give a soft paste – it should just hold its shape, but not be claggy. Taste, and add more lemon juice, garlic or salt according to taste.
5. Tip into a bowl, and when ready to serve, drizzle with olive oil, garnish with the reserved chickpeas and sprinkle with paprika or za'tar if using.
Is hummus a near-sacred foodstuff, or a bland, beige paste with good PR? Will anyone come out in favour of tinned chickpeas – or exotic flavourings? – and please, what on earth should I do with 8 bowls of the stuff?