Fesenjan at the Abyaneh Hotel

As I write this blog, the lyrics of James Taylor’s song Slap Leather are swirling around in my head:

Turn the whole wide world into a TV show

So it’s just the same game wherever you go

Mr. Rashidi enjoying the Abyaneh's fesenjun

 The song causes me to lament some of the more unsavoury effects of globalization on modern travel.  We see the same shops and food outlets everywhere, undermining perhaps the aim of travel – the pursuit of new adventures and new knowledge. 

However, in Iran, this thankfully is not the case. 

Travelling through this fascinating country, there are always new things to see, do, experience and taste.  And nowhere could be further from the intrusions of the modern world than the village of Abyaneh, nestled snugly into the foothills of the imposing Mount Karkas in the Zagros Mountain Range.

And so, with a desire to step back a little in time, Gary and I, along with our youngest daughter Sarah (currently visiting us in Tehran), drove off into the province of Esfahan with our friend and colleague Mr. Rashidi at the wheel.

Abyaneh is a traditional village of red mud brick houses with rickety wooden balconies crowded together between narrow alleyways and winding, stone steps. 

The village, where Pahlavi – or Middle Persian – is spoken, is believed to be at least 1,500 years old and, and although the mod cons of electricity, air conditioners, mobile phones and a rather bizarrely placed “fast food restaurant” can be seen, the place looks pretty much like it must have done for centuries.  (We have been to Abyaneh twice now and have – rather charmingly – never seen the “fast food restaurant” open.) 

Apart from a large number of young Iranian tourists, most of the people we saw were the residents.  The villagers, for the most part were old and weather-beaten.  The men dressed in their traditional wide, black cotton pants, jackets and black wool caps.  A significant number of the old ladies were toothless.  While the elderly gentlemen were content to bask in the Spring sunshine or chat to Gary and Mr. Rashidi about days gone by, the old grannies draped in their traditional white shawls dotted with pink flowers, were clearly the mercantile doyennes of the village and were not afraid to strike a bargain for their dried fruit and herbs.

The village of Abyaneh nestled into the valley of Mount Karkas

We spent the night at the Abyaneh Hotel, boldly built on a small hill on the road towards the village.  Arriving at night, and despite the heavy mist, it was difficult to miss the startling pink neon signs and sparkly fairy lights beckoning us in.  When we stepped inside after our long journey, it felt a bit like stepping into another world.

The warmth of the hotel reception, and the genuine friendliness of the owners enticed us in as we sat on the traditional takht seats and were immediately offered tea, dates and sweets, being implored to relax and take our time.  We heard the Persian phrase Khaste nabashid (literally “don’t be tired”) a lot.

For a full half hour before we actually officially checked in, we started to make friends with the owners and the other tea-drinking and qaylan-(water pipe)-smoking guests.

From what we had heard and read, the hotel Abyaneh is reputed to serve the tastiest khoresh-e-fesenjan for miles, and Sarah and I were determined not to leave without trying it.  Khoresh-e-fesenjan is a traditional Iranian stew originally cooked with duck but nowadays mostly made with chicken cooked in a deep, rich sauce consisting of ground walnuts and pomegranate purée.  Khoresh-e-fesenjan is customarily served to honoured guests and is usually prepared for Iranian weddings.  You can find a version of the recipe at the bottom of this entry.

With keen appetites, we headed for dinner to the hotel restaurant, which had at one end a delightful little museum of historic life in Abyaneh as well as a fairly silent parrot and a much more obliging myna bird.  Now, Gary has fairly simple culinary needs.  He is not an explorative gourmand, and, if he could get away with it, would eat only chicken fried rice, chelo kebab (see my previous blog) or spaghetti anywhere on the planet.  So while Mr. Rashidi, Sarah and myself were chattering away about the famous fesenjan, Gary had a different agenda.

Not for him was the blend of local fruits with chicken in a dark, intriguing sauce!  So Gary courageously professed in Farsi to the waiter that he wanted plain chicken, or jujeh kebab and rice.  The waiter seemed a little deflated by such indifference for his delectably indigenous menu, and scuttled off to return with the smiling hotel owner, a lady with a genuinely warm smile and a velvety Persian voice.  Her attempts to assuage Gary that she had the most succulent lamb and tastiest of Iranian dishes did nothing to persuade him.  He wanted his chelo kebab.  However, she was touched by Gary’s attempts to speak her language, and probably for no other reason than this, gave in and allowed him to eat his simple yet delicious fare.

I have attempted, with various degrees of success, to make khoresh-e-fesenjan myself and have eaten it in a number of restaurants and private homes, but the Abyaneh Hotel’s khoresh-e-fesenjan is, undoubtedly, the most delicious I have ever encountered.  The well-worn phrase of “melt in the mouth” does not do justice to the succulent chicken emboldened by the flagrant fusion of pomegranate and walnuts.  With a tiny gesture of the fork, the chicken tenderly slipped on to our spoons and the rice was soaked up in the delicious stew.  In no time, our plates were empty!

So, if you are ever roaming around the Zagros Mountains, do stop in to Abyaneh.  You won’t be disappointed.  Or tired!  Khaste nabashid!

Khoresh-e-Fesenjan

Ingredients:

1 to 2 tablespoons oil

1 large onion, chopped

900 grams boneless chicken, cut into smaller pieces

115 grams ground walnuts

¼ teaspoon ground saffron

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

230 to 275 grams pomegranate purée

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Fry the onion in the oil until soft, then add the chicken and fry for about 4 to 5 minutes until browned on all sides. Add the ground walnuts and water to cover all the ingredients in the pot then simmer until the chicken is tender.  Add the cinnamon and saffron and season with salt and plenty of pepper.  Dissolve the pomegranate purée with a little water and add this to the pot.  Cook gently until the stew is thick, but be careful it does not dry up.  Some recipes call for lemon juice or added sugar, but this is not necessary and tends to take away from the natural flavour. You can always serve the dish with a bowl of sugar on the side.  Serve with steamed rice.