Except for the native people who were here first, among which few of us can lay claim, most of us hold family stories of an uncomfortable or perhaps frightening journey, away from what we have known and loved, away from our community, our people, our food, our language, our place, to another place. Here’s the thing: this is a country of immigrants. Rick Steves says it best: Most Iranians, like most Americans, simply want a good life and a safe homeland for their loved ones. ![]() Why did so many Iranians come here? The story of Iran’s revolution, and the many thousands of people who were forced to leave in the late 70s, is a hard one. Their food ways are as rich and nuanced as their history. I think we tend to forget that Iran, a country so deeply mischaracterized and politicized in the United States, is the same cultural powerhouse that was Persia, with all of its art, commerce, philosophy, poetry. What I don’t remember, though, is anyone at the cafe talking about how or why they came to the United States from Iran. Sometimes, it seemed, the entire local Persian community would come through on a weekend, to stock up on their favorite desserts, and that amazing flatbread, to say hello to friends and gossip about who was getting married. Once, he remarked out of the blue, glass of water in hand, All we need in life is water and bread. Sometimes, folks would come in on a Sunday morning and buy 5 or 10 at a time. I remember listening to the owner in conversation with his friends while he painstakingly decorated marzipan-sheathed wedding cakes, or worked out layer upon layer of a delicious sesame-specked flatbread, barbari. I discovered Persian desserts, cooling and fragrant with rose water: faloodeh and balmieh, and I fell in love with zoolbia, a deep-fried treat whose crisp shell burst with a sweet rose water syrup. ![]() I learned on my first day to not smear brown avocado on a sandwich (duh!) I learned what Dutch crunch bread was. They were well-loved in the community: for their wedding cakes, their fancy pastries, and their delightful and new-to-me Persian treats. When I was a teenager, my first real job was at a local cafe and bakery.
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