Hummus and Middle East Wheat
Growing up in the farmlands of Kansas, I thought local farmers held the patent on growing wheat. With miles of green fields in spring, turning to golden waving heads of grain just before the summer harvest, we heard the motto, “Kansas the Wheat State,” often. My maternal grandfather and uncles Frank and Jesse were typical Kansas wheat farmers, constantly worrying about the weather, wheat aphids and the markets, early risers who worked well into the night when farming needed done. I recall my grandfather standing at the door watching clouds drift in, concerned about whether a summer rain might arrive before he completed harvest or hopeful for winter snow when the tiny wheat seeds needed nurturing moisture. Weather rules farm life. Uncle Jesse farmed well into his 70s, using an old combine, air conditioned by a faint breeze, equipped with an umbrella to ward off the afternoon sun, constantly broken down and needing parts, which my Aunt Polly “headed to Sal...