Toum (Lebanese Garlic Dip)
This homemade toum recipe is the Lebanese garlic sauce that ruins all other condiments for you forever. Brilliantly white, light and fluffy with an intense garlicky punch that mellows beautifully over time, it is the kind of sauce that makes everything it touches taste incredible. Slather it on grilled meats, use it as a dip, spread it through wraps or spoon it over roasted vegetables. Save this recipe because once you make your own toum you will genuinely never want to be without a jar of it again!
Ingredients
- 65g garlic cloves, peeled, sliced in half, and green sprouts removed
- 1 tsp Maldon sea salt flakes
- 30ml fresh lemon juice
- 30ml cold water
- 250ml olive oil
- Extra virgin olive oil, to serve
Instructions
- Place the garlic and salt in a food processor and pulse until the garlic is minced, scraping down the sides as needed.
- Add the lemon juice and pulse to combine.
- With the food processor running, slowly drizzle in the oil through the top opening in a thin, steady stream.
- Add 1 teaspoon of ice water after every 1/4 cup of oil, scraping down the sides as needed.
- Continue until all the oil is used and the sauce is smooth, fluffy, and emulsified. This should take about 10 minutes.
- Transfer to a serving bowl and drizzle with a little extra virgin olive oil before serving.
Notes
- Toum is a punchy Lebanese garlic sauce that's smooth, creamy, and seriously garlicky. It's traditionally served with grilled meats and is absolutely brilliant for dipping.
- I use this food processor for making toum. It's powerful enough to emulsify the sauce properly without overheating.
- Removing the green sprouts from the garlic cloves is important. They're bitter and can make the toum taste harsh. Just slice each clove in half and pull out the green bit in the middle.
- Fresh garlic is essential. Old garlic that's starting to sprout or dry out won't give you the same creamy texture.
- The key to perfect toum is adding the oil slowly. If you rush it, the emulsion will break and you'll end up with a separated, oily mess instead of a fluffy sauce.
- Adding a teaspoon of ice water after every 1/4 cup of oil helps stabilise the emulsion and keeps the sauce light and fluffy.
- Use a neutral-tasting olive oil or a light olive oil for the bulk of the sauce. Extra virgin olive oil can be too strong and bitter when used in such a large quantity.
- This takes a good 10 minutes of blending, so don't rush it. The sauce should be thick, white, and mousse-like by the end.
- If the sauce splits and becomes oily, don't panic. Start fresh with a single garlic clove and a teaspoon of lemon juice in the processor, then slowly drizzle in the broken sauce. It should re-emulsify.
- Toum is very garlicky. Like, really garlicky. That's the whole point, but be warned if you've got plans later.
- This sauce keeps in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 2 weeks. The garlic flavour mellows slightly over time.
- Not suitable for freezing as the emulsion will break when defrosted.
What I Cook With
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Nutrition Information:
Yield:
10Serving Size:
1Amount Per Serving: Calories: 213Total Fat: 23gSaturated Fat: 3gTrans Fat: 0gUnsaturated Fat: 19gCholesterol: 0mgSodium: 234mgCarbohydrates: 2gFiber: 0gSugar: 0gProtein: 0g
Please note, this nutrition information is to be used as a guide only. Nutrition information isn’t always accurate.
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Toum (Lebanese Garlic Dip) Recipe
Garlic Dreams and Gluten Disasters
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind. First, I had a work trip to Canberra, which sounds more glamorous than it is (spoiler: it’s not), and then I came back only to be knocked flat by what I call a certified gluten disaster. I’m a coeliac, so even a crumb of gluten can send my immune system into overdrive. So there I was, in bed, feverish and sore, and instead of resting like a normal person, I found myself daydreaming about Toum. Toum is a bold, creamy Lebanese garlic dip that’s a bit of a comfort obsession for me. It’s neither subtle, nor shy. It’s garlic in all its unapologetic glory. And when I say I made a bowl and ate half of it with toast, I mean it. No regrets.
There’s something about Adelaide spring that makes Toum feel even more necessary. It’s not too hot yet, but the days are long and bright and whispering that summer’s on the way. The kind of days where you want to eat outdoors but not actually cook. Just toast something, throw together a few picky bits, and call it lunch. A dollop of Toum on grilled chicken, or even just dunking bread into it, makes everything feel a little bit fancier, a little bit more indulgent. Like I’ve got my life together, even if the washing is still in a pile and I haven’t unpacked half my boxes.
And truthfully, making Toum gave me a sense of control when I was feeling anything but. I have been glutened twice in two weeks, which for me means fever, pain, and zero sleep, and I am exhausted! But I had garlic, I had lemons, and I had a new food processor that had just arrived. That was enough. So I stood in my little kitchen, blending and scraping and hoping, and eventually ended up with a bowl of fluffy, bright white garlic heaven. It’s not just food – it’s therapy with a side of immune support.
Settling into My New Life
It’s now been just over five weeks since I moved to Adelaide, and slowly, things are starting to feel familiar. My new job’s going well, the sunshine is sticking around, and I’m beginning to build little routines that feel like mine. Rose, my cat, has claimed the best sun spots in the house, and while she still looks mildly offended every time I bring in another box to unpack, she’s settled in better than I have. The arrival of my food processor was weirdly emotional. It sounds dramatic, but after weeks of eating whatever required the least amount of effort, finally being able to make something properly again felt like a little victory.
I still don’t have a dining table or a bookshelf, which means dinner is often eaten perched at the kitchen bench or, let’s be honest, straight off the chopping board. I sold most of my bigger furniture in Brisbane because moving it was going to cost more than buying new. I’ve got a few things picked out online, but coordinating delivery is tricky when you work full time and don’t have the luxury of working from home. So, for now, I’m playing a bit of real-life Tetris with what I’ve got, trying to make my little flat feel like home.
Despite the chaos, having my food processor back in action has done wonders for my mood. Making food from scratch is an exercise in grounding for me. Even if it’s just a dip. Especially when it’s just a dip. Toum was the first thing I made, and I swear the smell alone made the whole flat feel more lived in, and like I’d claimed the space properly. Like, “yes, I live here now, and yes, I do make garlic dip on a Tuesday night for no reason other than it makes me happy.”
The Plant Lady
Unpacking? It’ll happen when it happen. Buying plants? It must happen now. In just over a month, I’ve managed to collect ten new leafy friends, all thriving in mismatched pots from Kmart. I always go for plain white because I like the plants to do the talking. My Sunday mornings are now spent checking soil, rotating pots, and giving pep talks to the sad-looking fiddle leaf that’s clearly still judging me. It’s become a bit of a ritual – kettle on, French jazz playing in the background, me wandering about with a watering can like I actually know what I’m doing.
This weekend I’ve roped a friend into taking me to a nursery that’s apparently one of the best in Adelaide. They don’t yet understand the danger they’re in! I’ve warned them, of course, but there’s no preparing for the sight of me trying to justify buying yet another pothos because it’s a “slightly different green.” And, sure I’ve told myself I’ll set a budget, and I’ve also told myself I’ll stick to it… But we all know I’m not known for restraint where plants are involved.
I love watching my home slowly fill with life. When you’re starting fresh in a new city, with all the usual chaos and loneliness that comes with it, having something to care for helps. It gives the space a pulse. And keeping a calathea alive at all? It feels like an achievement worthy of celebration. Like maybe, just maybe, I’ve got this whole new life thing under control. Or at least, under enough control to keep a few plants and a garlic dip going.
Christmas is Coming!
Yes, I know it’s only October, but the Christmas decorations have started popping up in shops and I am READY. I’ve always been a Christmas person. It’s not just the food, although let’s be honest, that’s a massive part of it. It’s the decorating, the fairy lights, the excuse to make everything a little more magical. Last year I didn’t do anything festive as I knew I’d be moving interstate and didn’t want to deal with the packing and logistics of it all. So this year? It’s a full reset.
I’ve picked out the tree. I’ve picked out the decorations. I’m going bronze and pink, which is about as on-brand as it gets for me. I’ve already mentally decorated the living room and have a list of everything I need to pick up once payday hits. I know I’ll be spending Christmas solo again this year – just me and Rose – but I’m weirdly okay with that. It means I can do things my way. No compromise. No negotiating who’s cooking what. Just me, my leftovers, and maybe something sparkly to sip on.
The last time I spent Christmas alone was back in 2015, my first Christmas in Scotland. I made tacos. It was weird and wonderful and perfect. There’s a freedom in it, once you let go of what it’s “supposed” to be. So this year, I’ll be making whatever I fancy, maybe even a roast if I’m feeling bougie. But no matter what, there will be Toum. Because nothing says festive joy quite like stinking of garlic and not caring one bit.
Ingredients Breakdown
Toum is the kind of recipe that makes you feel like a magician in your own kitchen. Four ingredients – just garlic, lemon juice, salt, and oil. But it’s the process and the balance that turns it into something more – just like mayonaise, or aoli. For the garlic, you want fresh cloves, and I use around one bulb, sometimes more, depending on how I’m feeling.
Lemon juice brings the brightness – it’s what lifts the whole thing and keeps it from being too heavy. You’ll also need a decent pinch of salt. Don’t skip it – salt makes everything taste better. And then there’s the oil. Now, I know there are plenty of naysayers who insist you shouldn’t use olive oil for Toum, but I do. Not extra virgin, mind you – that would absolutely overpower things. But a light olive oil keeps it tasting alive, fresh, and a bit more authentic to me. It blends beautifully and brings a richness I really love.
If you’re feeling nervous about emulsions, I get it. Toum can be temperamental if you rush it. The trick is patience – drizzle the oil in slowly while blending. Whisper sweet encouragement to your food processor if needed, and don’t be tempted to shortcut with egg white. Proper Toum doesn’t need it. Done right, it’s fluffy, silky, and fierce. Spread it, dollop it, or eat it with a spoon straight out of the bowl. You know I won’t judge you either way!
