I remember my parents bringing in a whole green bush from the market, leaves and all. Somewhere in the bush, there were lots of green chickpeas in pods. The bush was thrust in the hot clay tandoor as it was, and we would find perfectly roasted chickpeas in the ashes a few hours later. They were sweet and smoky and everything good.
Finding fresh chickpeas still in their shells at the International market made my day.
They were so pretty. We roasted them in the oven with some sesame oil and lemon juice.