 Valentine abgoosht
Saltanat entered
the apartment with her nose first sniffing like a Bassett hound
on the trail
Kaveh Aminian, Seattle
February 16, 2005
iranian.com
I knew Saltanat loved abgoosht. This Valentine's
Day was my opportunity to show her how much I loved her, but it
had to
be just right. I had never made abgoosht. I didn't even
have a Dizi. Then, suddenly I thought of Asghar. If someone knew
about abgoosht it had to be him.
Asghar's family ran a Kaleh
Pazi in Salsabil and I assumed he would be the one to know how
to make the perfect abgoosht. I called Asghar at work: "Hi,
can I talk to Oscar?"
Asghar had his own business
now. He had continued the family tradition and opened a Kaleh
Pazi in LA. To be more in tune with the West he had named it Kaleh
Pazi Chopan.
Asghar, like always, was very helpful when it came
to matters of the stomach. He explained the A-Zs of abgoosht making
with all its trimmings, like a Bolbol. He gave me his secret recipe.
"It's all about how much dombeh (fat) you put in it," he explained.
He talked about types of torshee, the sangak, the chashnees, and
the whole enchilada. I was totally ready to begin my abgoosht
love affair of the heart.
Saltanat arrived on time and hungry (as usual). She was wearing
a floral chador that brought out the honey in her eyes. She entered
the apartment with her nose first sniffing like a Bassett hound
on the trail of something good to eat. She screamed in delight
and turned to me with such love saying, "Am I smelling abgoosht?"
(You could actually smell it all the way in the parking lot.)
Then she followed her keen sense of smell (remember the
nose) into the
kitchen.
I knew I had her when she saw the Gooshtkoob. I offered
to mash the meat but she wanted to do it her own way.
She wrapped her chador around her waist, set the bowl in the
middle of the kitchen floor and got to work. If someone knew
how to
handle the Gooshtkoob, it was Saltanat.
 I had already set the table with fresh, hot onion, torshee seer,
fresh garlic, sabzijat and doogh, of course. Looking lovingly
into my eyes, she ladled the abgoosht into my bowl and added pieces
of sangak to perfection. Then, she made her own teeleet. She watched
me take the first bite before shoving a piece of onion into my
mouth. After taking care of me, she slurped abgoosht with such
relish it brought a tear to my eye -- or it might have been
the onion. It was totally romantic!
Years have gone by, Saltanat married a fat butcher from the
burbs, but every time I have Abgoosht I remember Saltanat and
my special
valentine of 199...
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Valentine abgoosht
