Lots of people say that about my hummus, but I’ll let you in on a little secret– I stole it from my friend Amer. This hummus is a regular staple at the Friday Prayers we hold at my house, and all I get are rave reviews. So thanks Amer, for making me a super popular guy in Blacksburg, VA.
Sure, it tastes absolutely amazing, but the best part is it’s really easy to make. See all that stuff up there ? Throw it all in a food processor. (shh! the garlic is hiding!)
1 can chick peas. Rinsed and drained.
3 cloves of garlic (mash into paste w/ salt) (I never mash it into a paste, I just throw all this stuff in)
1 tsp kosher salt
1/4 cup of yogurt (can add more or less if you like)
pinch of cumin powder 1/4 tsp or less (I go for a full 1/4 tsp)
cayenne pepper 1/4 tsp or less (depends if you like to add a kick…)
1.5 lemons of juice
4-5 tbsp tahini (I do 5)
Flip the switch or push the button… and leave your processor running for a full minute.
Now, dump it all in a round plate or glass pie pan. Make pretty circular design with a spatula by turning the plate.
Top with lots of olive oil and a bunch of sumac.
Enjoy!
Back when I was an undergraduate student at the University of Massachusetts, I took several women’s studies classes and worked/interned at the Media Education Foundation. I have to say that throughout all my coursework and learning, one of the things that struck me the most was the blatant hyper-sexualization of women and girls in media. Sure, it made me want to puke back then, but as a single man, I never had to deal with that sort of thing.
It’s also been about a decade since then, and I haven’t ever owned my own television… so I’ve been kind of out of the loop.
Then, the other day, I read an article that got my wheels spinning again: The 7 Most Baffling Things About Women’s Clothing.
Now that I’m the father of an almost 6 year old WarriorPrincess, this stuff is back in my face. When buying jeans for her, I noticed that they didn’t feel right. They felt stretchy. And when she put them on, they hugged her bottom and her thighs and flared past her knee. I must’ve not been thinking straight, because I didn’t stop to check the label (like I do with all of our food) or question the cut of the jeans (riding low, accentuating curves she doesn’t/shouldn’t have). Against all signs from the universe, I bought them.
Read on »
Note: This is the 5th part in a series about how I met my wife (and daughter). Just joining us? Check out Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. Update: Many of you wanted to read from the perspective of EyeDot aka MrsHM and now you can. Her version of our story can be found in Love InshaAllah: The Secret Love Lives Of American Muslim Women.
Part 5 is going to skip around a bit, covering the time between our engagement to just after our civil ceremony in the U.S.
After our engagement party, EyeDot flew back to Singapore. The original plan was that she and WarriorPrincess (3 years old at the time) would move to the U.S., so I could finish nursing school. But you know what they say… we plan and God laughs. Hard.
EyeDot ended up landing a great job in Penang, Malaysia and asked me if I would consider quitting nursing school to become a househusband there.
Scenario: You are a 27 years old male that sells t-shirts and does some photography on the side. You are currently about to finish your first semester of nursing school, and while it’s ‘something to do,’ your heart isn’t in it. Your fiance lands an awesome job on a tropical [overdeveloped] island in Southeast Asia, and suggests you quit nursing school and become a househusband in Malaysia for a while. You would have *LOTS* of time on your hands and no other stress except maybe culture shock while you get used to being a husband and a father. The downside? You’d have to quit nursing school. What do you do?
If you’ve read my blog for long, you’ll know that I often like to fly by the seat of my pants. Read on »
It’s been quite a while since I’ve posted here regularly, but I’m finally ready to change that. My buddy Mediha just helped me move the site over to a new server and re-did the store section of the web site. It works much better now than it ever did before. We’ve also changed the design just a tad, with a bar at the top of this window that takes you to different sections of this site. I’ve separated the mosque section for now, and will get to it once I start posting daily. In addition to this blog, I’ve also started blogging over at patheos. Patheos, an interfaith site, recently acquired Altmuslim as well as Muslimah Media Watch.
Now that I’ve got the formalities out of the way, three beautiful things to kick off a new chapter of hijabman!
1. My wife regularly laughs in her sleep. About an hour after we go to bed, in the off-chance that I’m still awake, I hear MrsHM let out a joyous burst of laughter. I’ll ask her why she’s laughing even though she’s in a deep slumber and usually I’ll get an unintelligible answer– something like, “The movie and penguins.” After some further prodding her mostly-sleeping self will give up trying to explain, “I don’t know, it’s just something in my head…”
Hearing your partner laugh whilst sleeping has got to be one of the best feelings in the world. I figure that if shes delighted in a subconscious state, she must be enjoying her life in a conscious one. It’s a beautiful thing to know that your partner is content– not to mention a relief!
This morning, after another night of laughter, she told me she was dreaming of being pregnant. Foreshadowing? 
2. When your partner zings you.
Read on »
Back when MrsHM and I lived in Malaysia, I was able to connect Gizmo+ to Google Voice for a free U.S. number that friends and family could call me with. Shortly after we moved back to the U.S., Google discontinued Gizmo+ service, and my free landline went bye-bye. Sure, people could call me with my Google Voice number, but only if Gmail was open. A tip I got on Facebook led me to the OBi100 VoIP Telephone Adapter
.
Set-up was super easy. I plugged the Obi100 into my router. Then, I plugged a cheap cordless phone into the Obi100. After that, I simply followed the instructions on ObiHai’s website:
In about 5 minutes, I had a free landline! Now, when you call my Google Voice number, the phone rings just as it would if I had traditional phone service.
A couple days ago, the advertisement (an article by design) shown above appeared in countless college newspapers across America. It was put together by an organization called F.L.A.M.E. or “Facts And Logic About The Middle East”– only they specialize in demonizing Islam and Muslims.
In order to counteract the effects of hate speech and misinformation regarding our communities, I personally believe that Muslims should be proactive when it comes to engaging their neighbors. In addition to being proactive, I also believe it is important to respond simply and swiftly to articles and ads such as the one above.
Read on »
HM’s Note: This post describes a situation of domestic violence.
I was just reading the latest article on AltMuslimah, where the author describes her experience with domestic violence. It reminded me of a chilling experience I had three days before we left Malaysia… I wrote this immediately after it happened for a newspaper there.
***
“It’s personal issue. Sorry. I appreciate you telling me.”
With a pat on the back, the guard in front of the KLCC Mall Taxi counter dismissed me, and let an abusive man walk away with his battered wife.
Just hours ago, my wife, 4 year old daughter, and I walked into an elevator lobby right below the Petronas Towers to find a man pummeling a woman’s head repeatedly. Her face was stained with bruises and tears were rolling down her face. Other people present were standing around as if nothing was happening.
I stared at him for a moment in shock before I ran outside to the restaurants near the water fountain. “HELP! A man is hitting a woman! Call the police, call the guards!”
While I was outside, my wife heard him say in Malay, that the woman was a ‘worthless wh**e’ and he had her number, if anyone wanted it.
I ran back into the lift lobby just as the man escorted the woman into the lift. Without thinking, I stuck my hand out so that the elevator doors wouldn’t close and continued to yell, repeating,
“THIS MAN IS HITTING THIS WOMAN. CALL THE POLICE, CALL THE GUARDS.”
Read on »
