The Taste of Nowruz
How do you carry rituals across borders?
The first bite of sabzi polo tastes like memory.
It’s dill-heavy, buttery, with just the right amount of lemon squeezed on top—the kind of flavour that lingers at the back of your throat, reminding you of something you can’t quite place. I hadn’t tasted this in years, not like this, not around this table.
The herbed rice is flanked by crispy-skinned fis…