Dear friends, we had the pleasure of sharing our Yalda celebration in the December issue of Sunset Magazine. Thank you to everyone involved for making it such a bright and joyous evening.
This Yalda I leave you with some of the images from our Sunset shoot and a bright, refreshing Cranberry Orange Rose Sharbat.
MUSIC WE’RE COOKING TO
Honey, the color of a California sunset.
Fierce and unrelenting.
♪ Music husband is brewing to ♪
Please join me and fellow Persian food bloggers as we celebrate the Iranian midsummer festival Tirgan with a virtual picnic. I am also thrilled to have Drew, aka Mr. Husband take the reins on this post. Because a summer picnic is never complete without a bottle of Husband’s Kombucha.
Kombucha – Fun With Bacteria
Three years ago a good friend of mine pulled me aside with a proposition.
We had a deep, cushy, cream–colored loveseat in our living room. Back in Iran. That’s how I remember it. I was six years old. Luna’s age. And I was notorious for giving my parents a hard time with going to bed.
What can I get you?
He leans across the bar. Kindly looking into my bewildered eyes. A simple question he has asked numerous times this evening. He expects a simple and quick reply.
It’s 6:30pm on a week night and the place is already buzzing with after-work imbibing. Hipsters and the like winding down the day – or maybe just getting started for the night. It’s loud, the energy of the place palpable.
This pomegranate brought me back to life!
So said my 6 year old daughter Luna when she got through the very last drop of her abeh anar – pomegranate juice. Next came the search for any surviving seeds that didn’t have their juice sucked right out of them. Dainty, stained fingers ripped though the ravaged piece of fruit in hopes of one more little morsel, one more blood-red seed, one more crunch.
Copyright 2021 Naz Deravian. All Rights Reserved.