Vampires beware! The garlic level in Bobbi's black bean variety exceeds the minimum requirements for repelling a Level 11 Vampyryc Warryr. That's why the package sports a "For Garlic Lovers Only" icon. The luscious black bean texture of this locally produced hummus pairs well with any spreadable surface, but Terra Chips are a sure bet.
Leave it to the organi-capitalist intelligentsia to pull the plug on a good thing. The sweetness of Whole Foods' Caramelized Onion hummus was a perfect balance to a salty chickpea tahini base; too bad the product has been scarce for months, forgotten in a dominion of zesty garlic and roasted red pepper varieties. If you happen upon a container of the good stuff, snag it while you can.
It's not a cop-out to rate hummus based on its performance in an ensemble. As such, the falafels at Maoz (248 South St., 215-625-3500) deserve some kudos. They pack up giant pita boats with falafel balls, eggplant and other fixins, but not before slathering the bread in hummus at your request. The cool chickpea blend is a relief if you use the takeout's napalm-like green chile sauce.
For three bucks, you can't beat this generous helping of hummus and fresh, warmed pita from the Fishtown illuminati's unofficial HQ (1201 Frankford Ave., 215-739-9684). You may be alienated by JB's fashion maven clientele and Philebrity-stroked soundtrack, but least you can stuff your face and spend the extra cheddar on some brews.
Masochism is hip, so dip in to Sabra's Supremely Spicy Hummus and prepare for burnination. The Sabra hummus is creamier than most and features a mound of cracked red pepper in spicy oil at the center. Feel free mix as you go, or blend it all in for an extremely fiery challenge. Keep an extinguisher handy: This hummus situation can get heated pretty quickly.
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