My father grew up in Tehran but left decades ago, and has never returned.
But I ran headlong into my Persian heritage when I began cooking at a restaurant in San Francisco.
I needed to follow these flavors to their origin.
The author learned to make chicken stews such as this morgh-e torsh when she visited Iran.Photo: Eric Wolfinger
I dreamed of visiting Iran but it felt like a dead-end dream.
There were years of challenges with citizenship and paperworkand resistance from my dad.
Finally in 2014, there I was, getting off a plane in Tehran.
The author learned to make chicken stews such as this morgh-e torsh when she visited Iran.Eric Wolfinger
I learned how to ask, “May I take a picture?”
in Farsi, and the vendors bemusedly obliged.
Nearby, my cousin Setareh grated walnuts over a plate of cucumber yogurt with dried mint.
Everyone filled their plates and found a perch on the couches and chairs around the room.
She taught me to make roasted fish stuffed with tamarind-seasoned onions and fenugreek leaves.
I posed in front for a photo, the vines behind me flush with young green fruit.
My dream of visiting: finally fulfilled.
All photographs by Eric Wolfinger.
This article first appeared in the September/October 2018 issue of EatingWell magazine.
