Cold Cut Day and the Hummus Riots

It is October 25, 2016. Which means it is time, if you’ve managed to covertly procure any, to hide away your hummus! Or to boldly hold up your hummus for all to see. Weigh your risks, Readrrr, and decided the side of hiss-story on which you stand!

This marks the second anniversary following one of the worst moments in hu-nun history, an event so catastrophic that it is known as “the Bouvonic Plague of the 21st Century.” In abbeys across America, it is known simply as the The Hummus Scare (or, by The Vat, as Cold Cut Day).

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Operation Hummus started out with four nuns plotting the dissolution of COLD CUT LAW! (Those aren’t cinnamon rolls, Readrrr; they’re PIG BUTT ROLLS!)

Nuns across the country are leading hummus demonstrations, hummus riots, hummus protests, and hummus strikes, and those who cannot brave the Vat-monitored hummus-hating streets are nestled in their abbeys, deep in mourning, grieving the losses of the millions of chick peas that were destroyed in 2014, when The Vat declared war on hummus.

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Our Sistrrrly Pioneers! 2014 March Against Cold Cuts.

Here’s some background on this hiss-torical event that you won’t read in your textbooks.

In 2012, the nuns began smuggling hummus into their abbeys through an underground hummus-smuggling network led by Yours Truly, Sistrrr Hummus Grim. I was not yet in an abbey; my hummus smuggling operation was something I started before I became a probationary nun, back when I was the street urchin known as Hummus Claus. Because I was running Operation Hummus from the streets and because a life of chick pea rebellion against the biggest food criminal in the world wasn’t easy, I made visits to abbeys, once a year in October, to deliver containers of hummus to the nuns.

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No one ever suspects I’m Hummus Claus…

I was in the nunorthodox business of food justice– hummus justice! With regard to my yearly hummus deliveries, instead of coming in through chimneys, I came in through bell towers; and I didn’t come while the nuns were sleeping, I came when they were awake. Each nun would come to the tower, seeking my hummus sack  and holding a hummus sock, and I would fill each nun’s sock with a hummus stack from my hummus sack. That’s what I did every year, until The Vat found out about Hummus Claus.

In 2013, the Vat ordered a hit on Hummus Claus. When that didn’t work, they sought to deport Hummus Claus. In order to stay in the country, I had to remove the “Hummus” from my name. Luckily The Vat never caught on so the hummus justice movement wasn’t squashed entirely. The entire movement began as an effort to get healthy food to the nuns, who were being fed bologna and other cold cuts on an everyday basis. The Vat believes that a diet of bologna will keep the nuns under their thumbs. The Cold Cut Law was introduced to The Vat in 2012 by Mr. Cold Cut Himself, Father Gargamel, and The Vat voted for its institution in abbeys across the United States. The law dictates that the nuns eat cold cuts every day for the rest of their lives. Punishment for breaking The Cold Cut Law is forced feeding. The law took effect in 2012 and, to this day, it remains in effect. All that means is that the nuns have been breaking the law since 2012.

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It is a nun’s duty to her Heavenly Fathrrr to break the Cold Cut Law.

When Hummus Claus started appearing on “Wanted (by The Vat)” signs across the northeast, I knew it was time to take an approach with less bravado. So I became a probationary nun, entered a convent, was elected Wicked Witch of the Kitsch-en by my Headmothrrrfathrrr, and started putting my cauldron to use for the Hummus Justice cause.

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Our Starved Sistrrr at the Neo Nazi Nunnery. (Always on the inside, looking out…)

Hummus isn’t traditionally made over a hearth, but some of its ingredients can be. I cannot, for instance, use raw garlic in the nuns’ hummus because The Vat will detect its presence in the abbey, so I roast the garlic in my cauldron before making the hummus. We have to make The Vat think the nuns only eat meat. Doing so is not easy. In order to get other vegetables to the nuns in discrete ways, I roast the vegetable over the hearth. My main goal is ensuring the health and longevity of the nuns, and to counteract the food crimes being committed by The Vat, so I have learned how to turn almost anything into a delicious twist on hummus.

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Making a delivery to my three Nuns at the Neo Nazi Nunnery! These hummus cookies are for you, Sistrrr Shakespeare!

The nuns hate cold cuts and meat. The hummus I make for my nuns is meatless. I use the same basic method, and I always include chickpeas and tahini, but other than that, the sky’s the limit. In the summer, the nuns love my chilly beet hummus (like Borscht without the meat and using yogurt) and my lemon-basil hummus; in autumn the nuns love my pumpkin hummus and my yam hummus; in the winter the nuns love my black bean and lime hummus; and in the spring the nuns love my edible flower hummus. I make seasonal fruit hummus for the nuns, too, but I do that without chick peas and tahini, so it’s more like a salsa or salad, but for food justice purposes, it all falls under the heading of “hummus.” Hummus, as defined by the nuns, is anything antithetical to cold cuts.

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A poem, by Sistrrr Grim, published in The Comstock Review.
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The Hummus Riots, 2014

The operation was running smoothly enough, until, in 2014, when things came to a head, and The Vat caught wind of the improvements in the nuns’ health. They immediately launched an investigation and traces of hummus were discovered on the collar of one of the nun’s habits. The nun, whom we call The Hummus Martyr, was stripped of her habit and searched brutally for hummus for hours by The Vat. After her release, the entire abbey was searched by Hummus Dogs– dogs trained to detect hummus. In a frenzy, the nuns locked me in the nun shed until the coast was clear.

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Sistrrr Grim, locked in the hummus shed.

Well, we thought it was clear. We later received a letter from The Vat, informing us that on October 25, 2014, The Vat would visit abbeys across the United States to search for and destroy any discovered hummus, that hummus would be banned from abbeys everywhere, and that anyone found with hummus would be subject to imprisonment. And that is just what happened.

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COLD CUTS DAY, following BOLOGNA DAY!

The nuns freaked out about this. In a widespread fit of fear, they cleared out their hummus closets, dumped their hummus trunks, and acted like they had never heard of nor known hummus. On October 25, 2014, The Vat tore through the convents and, under their orders, the nuns pledged their allegiance to and took vows to honor and cherish Cold Cuts. The Vat was hoodwinked into thinking that hummus was gone for good. Though they had hummus extermination camps at the ready, they were fooled into believing they were not needed. Feeling they had won, The Vat declared October 25 National Cold Cut Day and they held a convention in Rome (Rome, New York, that is), where they placed a giant cold cut on a throne in front of an altar and offered it the nuns as a sacrifice.

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National Cold Cut Day, October 25, 2014.

Just when everyone thought the nuns were to forevermore be slaves to a giant cold cut, I came out of the woodwork, the Hummus Hero, and, with the help of my Heavenly Fathrrr saved them from the damnation of becoming a trans fat nation of nuns.

The Vat sought to clog the arteries of the nuns, but they haven’t yet done it, and that’s because I am still, to this day, sneaking hummus to the nuns using witchcraft.

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Have no fear, Readrrr. I will feed you the hummus you need to survive Cold Cut Day!

The Vat thinks Cold Cuts have won, but the Hummus Justice Movement has just begun!

The nuns have grown bolder and aren’t as afraid of The Vat as they used to be. And that is why I am reporting to you live, from the bushes outside of the Neo Nazi Nunnery, where dozens of protesting nuns are gathered together in protest against The Vat’s 2014 ban on hummus and declaration of Cold Cut Day.

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Sistrrr Grim and Daughter Grim Liesl. Staging a Cold Cut Day Protest/Riot with the Nuns.

I cannot join them or get up close because I am deathly allergic to cold cuts and Nazis (which is a redundancy because they are the same thing), but I’m spying on them from the bushes in order to share their songs and chants with you.

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PITA… I mean, PETA, has joined the Hummus Justice Movement!
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Hummus is Religious Freedom!

This year’s theme, a direct response to the collective assaults of The Vat on the hungers and desires of the nuns, is “Take Back the Appetite.”

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Hummus! Yumm-us!

Here are some of the chants I have heard from my end of the walkie-talkie I share with Sistrrr Jewdah, who is on the front lines:

“What do we want?

Hum-mus!

When do we want it?

Now!”

*

“Cold Cut Survivors Unite,

Take Back the Appetite!”

*

“We’re marching for hummus,

beautiful, beautiful hummus;

we’re marching forward to victory,

we march to take back the hummus!”

*

“We are gentle, angry nuns

and we are singing, singing for our tahini”

*

“Ain’t gonna let nobody take my hummus,

take my hummus, take my hummus;

gonna keep on collecting chick peas,

gonna build a brand new church!”

*

“No matter what we vow,

no matter where we go;

we want hummus

and we won’t be told no!”

*

“We are nuns,

we are strong,

cold cuts in abbeys

have gone on too long;

we are nuns,

we are strong,

we’ve had cold cuts

far too long”

*

“We have the power,

we have the right,

the hummus is ours,

take back the bite!”

If you are a nun and you are in danger of being deprived of your right to consume hummus, please follow these instructions:

  1. After midnight, sneak into your abbey kitchen.
  2. Open the refrigerator and look for the PURPLE package of cold cuts with the expiration date in the corner. Peel it off to discover its HEX-purr-ation date. If it doesn’t peel off, you’ve grabbed the wrong package. If it does, you’re golden; keep going.
  3. Flip it over and look for the same HEX-purr-ation date.
  4. This code is the phone number to my Hummus Justice Center, which goes by the unsuspecting name of The Hummus House.
  5. Call the number to “The Hummus House,” and when I answer, say, “I would like to place an order for some Halloween Hummus.” Say this phrase exactly as I’ve written it so that I know you are not a member of The Vat seeking to infiltrate our operation.
  6. I will collect your information and make arrangements for a team of hummus-loaded nuns to deliver to you the hummus you need.

Don’t be scared about The Vat somehow wrapping their minds around this; The Vat doesn’t possess the cliteracy skills and imagination necessary to read this publication!

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We’re safe, Readrrr, so grab a pita and get ready to eat!

LONG LIVE HUMMUS!

Reporting to you from The Grapevine,

Sistrrr Hu-mm-us Grim

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. andrewjsacks says:

    Hum me a hummus, sing me a song,
    Deliver me from cold cuts, all night long.
    —Sistrrr Sackville West

    Like

  2. John H Curry says:

    The truth of the physical world is that it is IMPOSSIBLE to ‘hum’ ‘us’. ‘Us’ requires opening the mouth by dropping the jaw much like an ‘ah’ sound. What impact this may or may not have on ‘The Vat” is up to them to clarify. I can not, however, envision an edict defending the diet of a quasi-meat cold-cut named after the great and historic city even if it is home of the University of Bologna. If it had been a dietary requirement, the faculty and administration would certainly not have lived long enough for it to become the oldest university in the world. Despite it’s oxymoronic appellation, hummus, by waving it’s banner of ‘chick’ ‘pees’ will, in the long run, prevail.

    Now stay with with me here, dear reader, with one r; the reader with three r’s is, I fear, for your own cliterary travail.

    Perhaps, much like the linguistic ‘double negative’, ‘chick pees’ cancels out the contradictory “hummus.’ I don’t know about you, but I’ve been on a farm where the chicken coop (not to be mistaken for a co-op. Neither Socialism nor Communism could be said to describe what I saw there) was the filthiest, weirdest possible corner of the earth I’ve ever had to get the hell away from. Plus it stunk! There were worms hanging in mid-air without any apparent reason, unidentifiable insects both earth earth bound and blindly flying into less animate objects. Oh! and other horrors I’ve thankfully forgotten. Yet…and here’s the thing: I saw absolutely nothing to indicate that chicks ‘peed.” No puddles of what would’ve been a gross and terrible liquid could be found. Dry as a bone.

    So there’s the double negative…hum-us is cancelled out by chick-pees. I rest. My case.

    Like

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