I feel inspired to share my background and speak to the experience of diaspora, nostalgia, and food.

In my household food was a potent means for communicating love, for restoring and persevering health, and for remembering and passing on our Persian heritage. At the time of our New Year, at the Spring Equinox (both for the Bahá'í community to which I belong, and to the Zoroastrian community to which we have many relatives), was when the senses and smells of this several thousand year culture would come alive. The bright floral notes of the purple and white hyacinths, the intoxicating smell of rose water, which would often be poured on the hands of visitors to our home, and the cardamom, saffron and rose water infused sweets, I knew my culture, its beauty, delicacy and generosity, through these sensory experiences.

This food was also deeply healing, both my grandmother and mother, though perhaps unaware of it, are powerful healers and alchemists with the food they prepare. For every ailment there was a corresponding dish, which served as a potent elixir to restore health and well-being. In the process of creating these dishes there was particular attention to detail and beauty, as is the hallmark of Persian cuisine. It is like living, breathing art, which is then enjoyed in community and celebration with others. From the April 16, 2016 New York Times article, "Persian Cuisine, Fragrant and Rich With Symbolism" it is written,

"The repertoire of dishes is fragrant, diverse and highly refined, based on complex culinary techniques. They are imbued with fresh flowers and herbs like rose petals, fenugreek and mint; spices like saffron, sumac and cardamom; fruits like pomegranate and barberry; all kinds of citrus; and nuts, including pistachios and almonds" (New York Times, April 16, 2016).

This is also a culinary tradition that I largely knew as an Iranian living in the diaspora. A difficult political history has forced millions of Iranians into exile, with conditions too inhospitable and dangerous in their motherland; food, music, language, dress, and other markers of culture also travelled with this exodus. In the case of my family, and those in our social spheres, this then transformed the meaning of food from simply that which is consumed for physical nourishment, rather it became the psychic representation of our homeland, the way we came to know the traditions of our ancestors, and the way we remember and didn't forget the experiences, smells, and tastes of our beloved homeland.

Cuisine in exile is both a great celebration, and marked with particular nostalgia and sadness. For us it was the truest and surest connection, but also a constant reminder of our difficult exile. Food always taste better back home, but for many of my generation the recreation of our cuisine was all that we knew. It is also a culinary tradition that myself and many of my friends my age are working hard to share, keep alive, and transmute to those around us. Consistently there is a sentiment that this food is at its core, deeply healing, inspires poetry and art, and brings people together in profound ways.

In the Persian literary tradition there is also extensive references to particular foods, often used in metaphorical and symbolic ways. For example in the following excerpt from a poem by Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi entitled, "The Laughter of Pomegranates":

A laughing pomegranate brings the whole garden to life. Keeping the company of the holy makes you one of them Whether you are a stone or marble, you will become a jewel when you reach a human being of heart.