It's the Humus, Stupid.

Blacksono and I set off this morning for Haifa. The plan was to visit the Maritime and Illegal Immigration Museums, which I have driven past for years, but never investigated. We left home a little too early for the museums, so we drove up the Carmel and stopped to take in the view from the Stella Maris Church . I had forgotten how pretty Haifa can be, what with it's mountains and all. While gazing out over the city, I remembered, Haifa = Humus. My build-in high tech 3D humus locator engaged and I saw!!!


We were still a little early, so the boy suggested we drive around a bit. Soon we were lost in the maze of streets that's downtown Haifa. At some point we stumbled upon a flea market, with the usual stash of stolen goods . The boy looked for his missing computer, but no luck.

Then I saw it. . Abu Shakker. Humus nirvana. Years ago, Beni took me here on the way back from a funeral in the Kryot. When squints returned from weekend family visits to Haifa, they used to bring us kilos of the stuff. As the sign says, Mother Hegget has been making humus here since 1936. And believe me, they've got it right. So blacksono and I went in.

We were seated at one of the four tables inside, hot pitot (multiple pita breads) were dumped on our table. Our orders arrived in minutes. Check this out:

It was as good as I remember. Creamy and smooth, nutty and warm. As we sat and ate, the place got busier and busier. Ima Hegget was sitting outside preparing the tabouli. She told me that on Saturday mornings they keep making humus, non-stop (a new Hebrew word this, nonnnstopp) and they always sell out by noon. By the time we left, the line to the counter was out the door and one wise guy wanted to know why the "doctor of humus" doesn't give out numbers like in the Kupat Holim (medical services). I bought a kilo to take home for the family.

The boy and I did the only reasonable thing after such perfection. We agreed, "screw the museum" and drove back home, full to exploding and completely happy.