By Frances Boswell
Photographs by Jim Henkens

Lucky are the bears who pass the waning weeks of winter in deep slumber. For me, with a proclivity to ruminate over the state of my 1099s and state of the world in equal measure, this is an angsty season, and the budding signs of spring propel productivity. And yet, the earth is quite possibly still frozen, perhaps blanketed by snow. I am a cook at heart, food stylist by profession, and acupuncturist in schooling. I seek inspiration in local produce and farmers markets. Oh, how I crave the minerality and snap of an asparagus stalk or the ease of a meal built simply on bitter greens that free the Liver Qi. Truth be told, there is not much on offer yet other than a rather dismal wintered-over parsnip—maybe two. And so while April might seem like an odd month to celebrate stew, that is exactly what I do, turning my desire to embrace this creative time of rebirth and renewal into a quasi-culinary meditative endeavor.

April might seem like an odd month to celebrate stew, but that is just what I do.

Many stew recipes call for onion. I welcome the cathartic cry. The sting is made worse with rubbing, better to let salty tears run free. Then there is the ritualistic peeling of the garlic. The stickiness of the skin can be annoying. I try not to engage. There are steps that take a fair amount of focus or intention (in meditation speak) to get just right. Searing, for one. To do it correctly the pan must be preheated, the oil shimmering, and meat or vegetables ever so lightly floured and well seasoned. Only then do you get the desired caramel crust—juices locked in and sweetness let out. Sometimes it is necessary to deglaze, adding liquid, scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon, and watching the cookedon goodness (the sucs) dissolve into pure flavor. The insouciant me relishes a furious boil. “Double, double toil and trouble.” Thoughts come and go. The Virgo side maybe sides with the controlled agitation of a simmer. There are pros and cons to this persnickety Earth sign.

An essential component to all of this, although based solely on my rudimentary understanding of the nervous system and not hard science, is the role of our olfactory senses in cooking. Think for a moment what happens to our breathing when we stumble into a good cook’s kitchen at the dinner hour. How we suddenly wish to linger. How differently we inhale and exhale. How quickly we connect to a sense of well-being. This is the parasympathetic “rest and digest” in action—or a more poetic sedation in the form of browned alliums and majestic spice. Safety distilled. Incense does not hold a match when it comes to the calming effects of a simmering stew.

Ghormeh sabzi might sound like a mantra to be repeated when cooking, and while I absolutely encourage whatever soothes your soul, it is in fact a delicious Persian herb stew. With copious bunches of parsley and cilantro in need of a good washing and methodical picking, and the transformative aroma of dried lime, it is an ideal dish for our meditative purposes. Serve it with saffron rice, the precious spice said to anchor the spirit. This family recipe was given to me by the husband of a dear friend. I have tinkered with it, increasing the amount of beans and eliminating the lamb, to make it vegetarian. (Left to my own devices, I tend to eat plantcentric. That said, I will eagerly eat meat when someone has time-stakingly cooked it for me, gratitude being paramount to happiness and community.)

And that in the end might lead me to the answer of what to cook this time of year, especially with respect to health and wellbeing. The dietary tenets of balanced, local, organic, and humane all hold true. Not all foods work for all people. But eat assured there is no superfood, supplement, powder, or elixir that nourishes the diner, and indeed the cook, like a bowl of this stew. It is redolent with tastes that inspire the imagination, provoke curiosity, and prompt conversation between those of us with a shared interest in—but perhaps a different understanding of—how the world turns and all that we can be. It’s peace, one spoonful at a time.

Persian Herb Stew (Ghormeh Sabzi)

Serves 6 to 8
This is delicious served with tahdig (Persian crunchy rice), or you can simply add a pinch of saffron to the water while cooking your favorite type of rice.

1 cup dried kidney beans, soaked in several inches cold water for 12 hours or overnight
2 large yellow onions
1 head garlic
1 tablespoon kosher salt, plus more for seasoning
1/4 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons ground turmeric
1 tablespoon dried fenugreek
6 cups parsley leaves, about 3 large bunches, washed and spun dry
6 cups cilantro leaves, about 3 large bunches, washed and spun dry
1 bunch spring onions, root ends trimmed, slivered several times lengthwise, and finely chopped
1 bunch chives, finely chopped
3 dried Persian limes (available at specialty food stores), stabbed several times with a sharp knife

Drain soaked beans and transfer to a large saucepan. Cover with about 5 inches of cold water. Slice 1 onion and the garlic head in half and add to the saucepan. Set over high heat and bring to a boil, skimming off any foam that rises to the surface. Reduce heat to a steady simmer and cook until beans are just tender, about 45 minutes. Add 1 tablespoon of salt and simmer for another 10 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.

Set a Dutch oven or heavy bottomed saucepan over medium low heat. Add olive oil and warm until shimmering. Peel and thinly slice remaining onion and add to Dutch oven. Add turmeric and cook, stirring often, until onions are very soft and starting to caramelize, about 20 minutes. The turmeric should smell toasty and delicious. Season onions with a generous pinch of salt. Add fenugreek and cook, stirring, for a few more minutes. Fish garlic halves out of bean cooking liquid and squeeze the soft cloves from the garlic skins into the Dutch oven. Press cloves into a paste with the back of a wooden spoon. Use as much or as little garlic as desired, depending on personal taste.

Working in batches, pulse parsley and cilantro in a food processor until very finely chopped—do not over process, the herbs should still have a little texture. Add chopped herbs, chopped spring onion, and chopped chives to the Dutch oven. Cook, stirring constantly until the mixture is dark green and velvety, about 15-20 minutes. Drain cooked beans. Add beans, Persian limes, and 6 cups of water to the Dutch oven. Season with a large pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for about 45 minutes, pressing down on limes to submerge and release their flavor. It is fine to tear open the limes—just discard seeds as they are bitter. Adjust seasoning with salt to taste. Serve hot with saffron rice.