On Saffron

Nearly 90% of the world's saffron is grown in my motherland, Iran. As such, it is unsurprising that it has found its way into every aspect of Iranian life: saffron has been used in Persian cuisine, traditional medicine, and spiritual/mystical rites of passage for many thousands of years. 

You’ll notice in the picture above that each saffron flower bears three stigmas, or threads, of saffron. Harvesting saffron requires hundreds of flowers to produce significant quantities of the spice, making it the most expensive spice in the world.

These labors are not without their rewards.

A Persian home is never without saffron, at least not for long. It is deeply fragrant, earthy, botanical, sweet, and a bit peppery. This paradox of flavor makes it play beautifully in both sweet and savory dishes. It laces its way through much of our cuisine, whether as the hero flavor in something savory like Tahchin (Baked Saffron Rice) or something sweet like Sholeh Zard (Saffron Rice Pudding). A whisper of it is added to many braises, from Fesenjan (Walnut Pomegranate Braised Meat) to Gheimeh (Tomato, Split Pea, and Omani Lime Stew). In these latter dishes, where less than 1/8th of a teaspoon is added, the saffron is not the central ingredient, but its absence would certainly be felt in the melange. Saffron adds, in addition to flavor, a quintessential Persian-ness to all it touches. My grandmother was known to add saffron to her Bolognese sauce, to make it more ‘Irooni’ (Iranian). And it was - seriously - delicious.

Saffron is also a key ingredient in Persian traditional medicine, as it is associated with alleviating anxiety and depression while fortifying the spiritual heart to receive more love. In beauty rituals, it is applied to the skin in a yogurt-honey face mask to brighten the complexion. It has even been documented since the earliest days as a romance enhancer, stirring amorous intentions towards your lover :)

Saffron’s stunning red color is associated with the Sun or Fire, symbolizing illumination and purification on altars and in ceremonies. Occasionally, it is blended into holy water, applied to the body ceremonially for ritual or to mark moments of great change. Mystics believe a strong brew of it enhances the connection to the divine, expanding the heart beyond its confines for prayer and ritual. The Persians are often known for their ecstatic relationship to the divine, as seen through the Sufi poets like Hafez and Rumi. Perhaps this sacred spice helped open the door?

Saffron may be a plant, but it is also our ancestor as Persians; it holds our entire collective memory, it holds our life cycles. A saffron porridge, Kachi, is served to new mothers because the spice fortifies love and stabilizes moods after the massive undertaking of birth. It is also a key ingredient in desserts like Halva, typically served at memorials to help integrate the pain of grief. From birth to death, this spice remembers us and ushers us through thresholds.

I made and ate saffron halva after a beloved family member passed recently, and I was struck by its medicine. This is a spice I know well; it has been in my diet often for my entire life. But I was feeling pensive, and weepy, and deeply focused on the effects of the spice in this setting. As we alternatively wept, told stories, laughed, and ate halva, I felt the saffron doing its work. It does not make grief lighter per se, but it keeps grief from lodging itself in the body. We wept, wailed, and laughed but did not shut down our hearts.

I felt in that moment the profound medicine of this plant-cestor. Yes - plenty of studies are showing it has a positive impact on mood, that it’s full of antioxidants! But my embodied experience of this spice has been that it expands us. We feel, perhaps, more; but this spice fortifies us to hold it all with love. Perhaps I’m being too lofty, or esoteric, or poetic - all fair charges against a Persian - but it’s all reverence.

Many people are intimidated to use it. Here I’m recommending a simple tea you can brew to familiarize yourselves with its aroma. I’ll share some savory recipes soon!

Brews 1 Cup of Saffron Tea

1 small pinch of good quality Grade A saffron, ground (I grind mine in a mortar and pestle). Think about a scant 1/8th tsp or less of saffron - use the spice sparingly and reverently as you get to know it.

2-3 cardamom pods, crushed, or ¼ tsp of cardamom ground

6oz just-boiling water (I prefer not to make my water too hot as that can make saffron taste bitter in my opinion)

2 tsp sweetener of choice, or more to taste (I like to use delicious honey)

Add the ground saffron, cardamom, and hot water to your favorite mug and let steep, covered, for about 5 minutes. You can strain out the ground saffron threads, but I don’t mind them personally. Some steamed milk makes this an extra comforting beverage!

Noosh-e-jan!