It’s Jackfruit season, again, or close to being so, and those golden love-them-or-hate them chulaikal or arils embedded in so many waxy fronds (or “rags,” actually unfertilized bits that did not develop into fruit/seed) will soon become constant visitors, demanding time and effort and oh-so-much attention–but bearing such rich gifts you cannot turn them away.
The Artocarpus heterophyllus tree or Palamaram offers much beyond its famed fruits, however. Leaves are used to make idli moulds for magnificent kotte kadubu or idlis steamed in Jackfruit leaves as you see from my friend Pratiba’s soulful image below. I’ve used them, too, as a layer in baking chenna poda pitha and often substitute them for banana leaves in lining baking trays though they tend to be stiffer and leave an imprint.
Jack wood was traditionally prized for its grain, color, and weight–not as light as teak, but good nonetheless for mana palagai or the wooden planks with the smallest legs used for mealtime and prayer floor seating, swings that used to be a common feature of many traditional houses, and boxes! Boxes for storing salt, cereals and matchsticks, old letters, anything that needed protecting from rain and moisture: apparently jack wood had the capacity to resist wetness and preserve the things kept within. The veena is an instrument conventionally crafted of jack, for precisely this stability: unlike other woods which continue to “breathe,” expand and contract with the weather, jackwood remains stable in its dried form.
I’m going on about the wood because I want to get to the seeds–and you’re wondering what the one has to do with the other even though you know they’re both from the same tree–but the connection is both visual, aesthetic and on how the character of the one mimics the other. The grain of jackwood beautifully echoes the grain of the tree’s own seeds in a natural harmony, as you see below. That vase was made by Biswa of Artisan Woodworks a long time ago, its body pure jackwood.
I’ve written about jack seeds before–an old post, which I’m updating now with better photos and an improved recipe but also a new insight. If the wood of the jack tree dries well, really so do the seeds–so well, it is tough to re-hydrate them. They’re thirsty little things; they’ll take almost as much water as you pour to make any resulting paste soft, with the result that achieving a suitably creamy-textured hummus was always a challenge.
Of course, pala-kottai wasn’t ever used to make anything but poriyals (simple, seasoned vegetable frys) and sambars (dals) in our house. The one embraced the seed’s dryness, the other just added dal. But I confess, I never really liked the texture of the seeds in these preparations. Jack seeds seemed better suited to teatime-snacking in the form of masala peanuts [as in this wonderful recipe from Sushma Bhat over at Khaadyaa, which I can’t wait to try] or a smashed chammanthi with the addition of onions, green chillies, lots of lime juice, and salt–both dishes making their peace with the seeds’ crumbly dryness.
Turning them into a hummus wasn’t straightforward, and although I’ve managed to get by in years past by using just a very well cooked batch of seeds with generous amounts of tahini and olive-oil, it just was always a bit of harder hummus than ideal.
My compromise has been to add a proportion of chickpeas, which the palakottai really don’t seem to mind at all. Rich in protein, vitamin A, and iron as they are, they’re mild-tasting and easily eclipsed. I also try to make my own tahini, but that’s an optional step really; the store-bought is also just fine and maybe more fatty, which is a good thing for this hummus.
Usually, we keep seeds out in a bowl as we consume the jackfruit pods. This gives them a chance to dry out a little. The white seed coat loosens a bit as it dries, making the seeds a lot easier to peel–something you’re better off doing before you cook them. Peeling wet or just-cooked jackfruit seeds is a touch painful just because it’s that slippery, and the seed coat is inedible so it does need to come off.
Whether you peel before or after cooking is up to you. Submerge them in salted water and pressure-cook for a few whistles–though simply boiling them until they’re soft on the stove-top works, too. The rest of the process is familiar. They get blended with home-made tahini, lemon juice, garlic, fresh coriander, paprika or red chilli powder, salt, and olive oil — et voila, jackfruit seed hummus.
Pictured below in swirls that mimic this time not the wood any more but the ripples in our pond, with some crushed and dried rose petals sprinkled over top.
Palakottai Hummus With Home-Made Tahini
Ingredients
For The Hummus
- ½ cup chickpeas
- 1 cup of jackfruit seeds
- 2 teaspoons tahini see the recipe below, or substitute with store-bought
- 4-5 large cloves of garlic
- juice of 1 whole medium-sized lemon
- 1/2 teaspoon paprika or red chilli powder
- 1 teaspoon cumin seeds dry roasted and roughly crushed
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- Ice cubes and water to blend (jack seeds are thirsty beings)
- 1/4 cup of extra virgin olive oil plus a few tablespoons more, as needed
- small bunch of fresh coriander leaves and stems or parsley, roughly chopped
For The Tahini
- 1/2 cup sesame seeds
- less than 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
Instructions
Make The Tahini
- Carefully toast the tahini until well-browned — never for a moment taking your eye off the pan, and stirring constantly
- Transfer to a food processor. Pulse a few times to powder
- With the motor still running, drizzle in the olive oil until you have a thick-but-pourable paste
- Store in a glass jar, refrigerated
Make The Hummus
- Soak the chickpeas overnight and cook the next day with salt and a ¼ teaspoon of baking soda
- Boil the jackfruit seeds until tender, also with salt. If you have not removed the white, papery seed-coats prior to cooking, then be sure to remove them after the seeds are cooked.
- If you’ve not dry roasted the cumin, do it now. Transfer to a mortar and crush roughly with a pestle until ground but not too powdery.
- Assemble all hummus ingredients except the coriander or any fresh herbs you may be using in the jar of a food processor, and pulse to combine. Then add a few cubes of ice and blend again, slowly, until the mixture is thick and creamy.
- Jack seeds are crumbly, thirsty little beings, so don’t hesitate to add water bit-by-bit until you have the smoothness you desire. You can also save a few seeds to add at the end (pulse to combine) if you prefer some chunky texture in your hummus.
- Now add the coriander and pulse until combined. Adjust salt and spices.
- Transfer to a serving dish and mix in half the olive oil. Use a spoon to create swirls, and drizzle the remaining half of the olive oil on top.
[…] is chapter 2 of a little palakottai series that started with an updated hummus recipe and continues here with an absolutely delightful twist on the classic Levantine baba […]