Scent is such a memory trigger. I don’t know the statistics on this but I was quickly reminded of this when we walked into The Persian House in Portland Saturday evening.
I walked into this most unassuming restaurant and immediately the smell of cooking food and polo (rice) took me back to when I was a child at my grandmothers house in Tehran. Waiting for dinner with the entire family, the smells permeating through the house. It was a lovely smell. A smell knowing that many women were in the kitchen preparing a lovely meal of several dishes for the Whole family. Cousins, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents and sometimes even visitors. It was alway a beautifully set large table filled with talking, laughing and good food.
I was immediately taken to that as we walked into the restaurant Greeted at the door by a lovely petite Persian lady who quickly seated us.
It wasn’t really hard to make a decision on what I was going to order, because I had already decided what I was going to have if they had it on the menu. Ghormet Sabzi. But then pouring over the menu I wanted everything. My guy ordered fesenjan which is chicken served with a pomegranate sauce. Our appetizer was a beautifully displayed plate of shirazi salad, dolmas, hummus and lemons. It came with a basket of flat bread.
I also had a delicious cup of tea