Made with boiled chickpeas and seasoned with cumin, olive oil, and often garlic and lemon juice, baleela is a humble dish enjoyed across the Levant, especially in Lebanon and Syria. It’s so popular that you’ll find vendors walking the streets of old towns and neighborhoods calling out “baleela baleela” in hopes of serving it to passersby. They’ll place a scoop of boiled chickpeas in a disposable paper cup, then dust the legumes with ground cumin and a drizzle of olive oil, before handing it over with a toothpick or plastic spoon. 

While baleela was once mostly a street food, it can now be found in some hummus shops, as well as part of mezze spreads in restaurants in the Levant. In the version of baleela typically served in restaurants, some of the beans are often mashed lightly with the flavorings before they’re topped with more olive oil, cumin, and a sprinkling of toasted pine nuts. It sounds quite plain, but it is this very simplicity that allows the flavors of each ingredient to shine: creamy chickpeas, bright olive oil, and earthy cumin against the tart lemon sauce and smoky, buttery flavor of the toasted pine nuts. While baleela is perfectly satisfying on its own, the addition of the pine nuts brings a satisfying crunch and toastiness.  

If you prefer your baleela to be thicker, lightly mashing a few of the chickpeas while mixing is a great way to add body and create a velvety mouthfeel. But if you want the distinct bite of individual chickpeas, you can certainly skip this step. 

I am a big proponent of using good quality jarred or canned chickpeas in many dishes, but I do find this dish is much better with chickpeas you have soaked and boiled yourself. Not only do you have the flavorful chickpea braising liquid to use in the dish, but you can also control the exact level of doneness of the chickpeas. 

Whenever I find myself boiling chickpeas for another recipe—like hummus b’tahini—I always prepare more than I need so I can scoop out a few spoonfuls to make a plate of this warming and fragrant dish. Like the vendors in the Levant, I call out baleela baleela to announce to my family that it’s ready—and though I’m not serving it in a paper cup, it’s delicious just the same.