I’ve always wanted to go to Iran, the country my parents fled in the late 1970s just before the revolution. But for so many reasons — political tensions, family fears, shifting circumstances — that trip never happened.
As someone who creates recipes professionally, cooking has become my way of closing the distance. And during Nowruz, the Persian New Year, which begins on Thursday, the spring equinox, and runs for 13 days, food takes on greater significance. Each dish, each ingredient symbolizes something greater: herbs for rebirth, fish for prosperity, sweet, sticky confections to usher in a year of joy.
The celebrations begin even before Nowruz itself, with Chaharshanbeh Suri, the festival of fire. Growing up, small bonfires would be assembled in my uncle’s backyard, and everyone — kids and adults alike — would leap over the flames, burning away past hardships and absorbing warmth for the year ahead. Music would blast, conversations would switch between English and Farsi, and the air would thicken with smoke, laughter and the smell of sizzled mint for ash reshteh, a thick, herby soup with beans and long noodles, meant to bring luck and guidance.
Once the holiday officially began, it was time for the haftseen, the ceremonial spread. As a kid, I barely thought about its meaning. But while I watched cooking shows and ate as much as I could, my mother would carefully arrange our family’s seven symbolic items: sabzeh (wheatgrass) for renewal, seeb (apples) for beauty, serkeh (vinegar) for patience, seer (garlic) for health, senjed (wild olive) for love, samanu (wheat germ pudding) for affluence and sonbol (hyacinth) for spring. I remember how the hyacinth’s scent would fill the house, and how, at the exact moment of the equinox, cheers, tears and plenty of kisses would welcome the new year.
And, of course, I remember the food — specifically my mother’s sabzi polo mahi, or herbed rice with fish. She long served hers with seared salmon, sour oranges and plenty of pickled garlic. Over the years, she’s started making my version: a boneless, skinless fillet that’s slowly roasted with leeks, garlic, dill, saffron and a heavy hand of olive oil.
But if there’s one dish that feels like it belongs to me, it’s kuku sabzi. It was the first Persian dish I truly felt confident making on my own. My recipe continues to evolve, as I fine-tune the balance of fenugreek, turmeric and eggs, making sure the texture is just right. Some families add walnuts and barberries, but I keep mine simple, letting the herbs take center stage.
These days, as I place a hyacinth in my home and gather friends around a table, I think about how I’ve carved my own traditions out of my family’s, out of my culture’s. Some years, I lean traditional for the holiday, recreating the exact dishes I grew up with. Other times, I make small tweaks, finding new ways to bring these flavors into my cooking. The recipes below honor the core of the holiday, while reflecting evolving traditions — rooted in the past, but always moving forward.
Ash Reshteh (Greens, Beans and Noodle Soup)
Ash is a category of thick soups in Iranian cuisine, and ash reshteh is the most well known, filled with all kinds of legumes, a mountain of greens and reshteh, thin, flat noodles that resemble linguine. Tangy kashk (a fermented dairy product), crispy onions and sizzled mint are essential — they’re what make this dish sing.
Recipe: Ash Reshteh (Greens, Beans and Noodle Soup)
Sabzi Polo (Herbed Rice With Saffron)
This dish is a practice in patience — the rinsing, the parboiling, the steaming, all leading to that prized tahdig at the bottom of the pot. Here, lettuce leaves replace the traditional crispy rice layer, a nod to tradition with a twist. Parsley, cilantro, dill and scallions give the rice its green and fresh, earthy flavor.
Recipe: Sabzi Polo (Herbed Rice With Saffron)
Slow-Cooked Fish With Citrus and Herbs
During Nowruz, fish symbolizes life and abundance, a wish for prosperity in the year ahead. This version takes the classic pairing of smoked or fried fish and sabzi polo and strips it down to its essentials: slow-roasted fish, bathed in saffron, citrus and olive oil until impossibly tender.
Recipe: Slow-Cooked Fish With Citrus and Herbs
Kuku Sabzi (Herb and Scallion Frittata)
Vibrant, green, flecked with scallions and sprinkled with turmeric, kuku is a frittata-like Persian dish that embodies the spirit of Nowruz. Traditionally flipped to brown both sides, this version lets the top set under the broiler, preserving its vivid hue. Serve it warm, room temperature or cold, tucked into lavash with yogurt and pickles. Depending on the Persian household, zereshk (dried barberries) and walnuts can be added.
Recipe: Kuku Sabzi (Herb and Scallion Frittata)
Mast-o-Khiar (Cucumber Yogurt With Sizzled Mint and Crunchy Pistachios)
Yogurt is essential in just about any Persian spread. Mast-o-khiar is more than just yogurt and cucumber. It gets extra tang from lemon juice and plenty of texture from pistachios and chewy, sweet raisins. The sizzled mint adds a deep, earthy aroma. It’s the kind of dish that belongs on every table, served alongside rice and proteins, or simply scooped up with warm bread.
Recipe: Mast-o-Khiar (Cucumber Yogurt With Sizzled Mint and Crunchy Pistachios)
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