Ash-eh Reshteh (Persian Bean & Pasta Soup)

Growing up, the fragrant aroma of my mom’s cooking is something I will never forget. When we had company over, my mom would start cooking at sunrise, no matter how many guests we were expecting. I would often wake up to the smell of sautéed herbs for ghormeh sabzi and gondi (chicken meatball soup) simmering away on the stove. I would excitedly rush downstairs and gawk at the feast that was being prepared. 

The kitchen was a beautiful mess. From the looks of it, you would think she was cooking for 100 people. Every burner on the stove was occupied by a large pot, vegetable peels littered the floor, and ground and whole spices were scattered all over the counters. The hypnotizing aroma made my mouth water. And I was always happy to be my mom’s guinea pig. “Try this and let me know how it tastes,” my mom would say as she fed me a spoonful of stew. 

In the winter, soup was always on hand. One of my favorites was and still is ash-eh reshteh, which is packed full of herbs. My mom often made a big pot that would last the entire week. When I went to college and returned home to visit, I would bring back containers of soup and freeze it. Whenever I was homesick and craving my mother’s home-cooked meals, my mom’s ash-eh reshteh was just the comfort I needed.

 Ash-eh reshteh, which is chock-full of fresh herbs, is a soup that is served on joyous occasions. Traditionally served in the spring on Nowruz, or the Persian New Year, which symbolizes new beginnings, it’s also served when a baby shows the first signs of teething or for good luck when someone is about to embark on a trip. But ash-eh reshteh is made year-round, especially on a cold winter day.  

It’s a thick delicious soup, similar to the consistency of a chili, packed with protein that wraps you up like a warm hug. Two of its ingredients are worth seeking out at a Middle Eastern or Persian market or online: reshteh (noodles) and kashk (a thick fermented dairy product). It includes a variety of beans and herbs, but the garnishes—which include fried onions, garlic and dried mint and kashk—are the real stars. They not only create a beautiful presentation but they also add texture and balance.

Persian cooking can be laborious and sometimes require advanced preparation and patience. When my mom makes ash-eh reshteh, she starts by washing all the green herbs and patiently plucking the leaves off each one individually by hand. She also soaks all the beans overnight. The next morning, she finely chops all the herbs. I always remember watching my mom in the kitchen with gleeful Persian music playing in the background while she cooks in a meditative state. Cooking has always been my mom’s love language. 

I never realized that all those years as a child observing my mom cooking in the kitchen with so much love and enthusiasm would later inform my own passion for cooking. It’s very common for Persian women, including my mother, not to follow a recipe. They use their hands to feel the ingredients and their eyes as measuring cups. They trust their taste buds to adjust as needed, adding a pinch of salt here or a dash of turmeric there. 

As I’ve gotten older and realized the importance of learning my mom’s dishes, I have had to take precise measurements while she’s cooking to put actual recipes together. Not only has cooking with my mom allowed me to bond with her in a new way, but I have also enjoyed spending more time with her doing something she loves. It has allowed me to hold on to a valuable piece of my family’s culture and tradition that I hope to pass on to my own family one day.