A Memory in the Palm of My Hand

Roasted nuts (Ajeel) factory in Tabriz, Iran, March 31, 2008.

When I was a child, my father would sometimes take us to purchase party and entertainment staples. We would go to Shahreza Avenue (Enghelab), and buy pastries and sweets from Shahreza Bakery (Ghannadi-e-Shahreza). This shop later moved to Kakh Avenue (Felesteen), and Mr. Azarba's daughter, Shireen Khanoom, moved it to Jordan Boulevard first and then to Elahieh's Agha Bozorgi Street. Next to Shahreza bakery, there was a nut shop, called Ajeel-e-Fard-e-Shahreza. It was one of the most amazing places I have ever seen in my life. At any given hour of the day, when you went to the shop, they were roasting different kinds of nuts. I remember the bright lights hanging over basket after basket of dried fruit and nuts, lining the storefront. The shop's owners and help would greet you by dropping a handful of piping hot roasted pistachio nuts into the palm of your hand. They knew my father and treated him really well there, I guess, but I have a feeling they were equally generous to all their patrons.

It is rather strange. My childhood memories are full of loving and generous people, friends, neighbors, and shopkeepers. Heeh, the only people who continue to appear as utterly mean in my childhood memories are my teachers and school principles, especially the ones from elementary school! No amount of time seems to help me get over their poor and abusive treatment of their young charges! Anyhow, seeing this picture reminded me of so many of my good childhood memories. I know I'm divulging my age by the by, but I can't help it--nostalgia has a firm grip on me today!

Nostalgic About A Cat

A Ghorabieh Bakeshop in Tabriz. This is probably one of my most favorite Iranian confections! I remember Haj Jalil Tavazo offering me Ghorabieh in his shop one time, telling me in his sweet Azari accent: "een shirini kheili ghashangeh!" Too bad it can't endure time and travel very well!

Heeh! I saw this videoclip of Makhmal the Cat, eating the samanoo on her family's haft seen table! So cute! It reminded me so much of our cat, Asghar (Oscar, Oskie), today. I remember the day when he was still a kitten and had jumped from the fourth floor into the third floor apartment's balcony, and kept begging us to go get him, which of course we couldn't, because the neighbor was away for the weekend. I remember that in my desperation and with my children's growing anguish, I called the Tehran Fire Department, asking them whether they did animal rescue, as might be expected in these parts of the world. I explained that we might need a tall ladder to get the rescuer to the third floor balcony. Well, you might already know their answer to that question! They laughed at me and hung up! Later, I called again and tried to appeal to the dispatcher's heart. After I talked to him and begged him to help me, he and I reached an "understanding," whereby he said he or one of his colleagues might come to see about the cat after their shift was over that night, but that wasn't going to happen for a few more hours yet. So, while my kids and I waited for the firefighter, we had an idea. We had one of those plastic picnic baskets with a lid, which we sent down to third floor balcony through a rope, leaving a piece of meat inside the basket for good measure. Once the basket landed, Asghar jumped inside and got busy eating his little treat, we pulled the rope, closing the lid and started pulling him up! Mission accomplished, I called the dispatcher and thanked him, telling him that the cat was already rescued! Asghar went on to do many more naughty things in the coming years, the stories of which I might tell at another time.