My First Supper Club

What. A. Week.

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Last Friday was my first (but not last) #CookforIran supperclub. And what a whirlwind success it was.

I made barbari. I pickled torshi. I chopped buckets of herbs. I served two khoresh. I even baked a cake.

There was ash reshteh and kuku. There was dolmeh and cheese and sabzi and smoked fish and walnuts and rice, of course. There were friends. There were strangers. There were neighbors. There was wine. There was 60s Iranian garage rock.

I set up a haft sin in the corner. I filled milk bottles with spring flowers. I had William Morris tablecloths, and Welsh sea salt in Danish oyster shells. I used antique china and enamelware, and dogwood Caspari napkins.

My husband helped me with everything. My college friend helped me with everything. My favorite local coffee shop hosted us. My favorite butcher donated the meat I cooked. My family was proud of me. I was proud of me. And, my god, I was exhausted and exhilarated by it all (so much so that I took off to Iceland the next morning to see some northern lights, eat some gravlax, do some snowmobiling and geothermal hot springing , spend some time with a dear friend, and get some much needed r&r: highly recommend, btw.)

What a week. What a start to a new year. Here’s to a good one, a happy one, a healthy one filled with joy, freedom, life, and hope.

Happy Noruz! Happy new year! Happy spring! Onwards and upwards: always.

🐟🌱🥚🌷🍎⏰🧄🍊🪞💐

#womanlifefreedom
#cookforiran