
"Have some fesenjan," my gracious host, Sargon, pointed in the direction of a wet mass of brownness in a ceramic bowl on the buffet table. A brief moment of awkwardness followed. The fact is -- in terms of appearance, this thing could only be described as uninteresting at best and unappetizing at worst. Nestled between a platter of colorful assorted vegetables and a bowl of vibrant-colored saffron pilaf, the stew's lack of aesthetics became even more pronounced which, in turn, made my reluctance to plunge the serving spoon -- poised in mid-air -- into it more justified.
"It's good," Sargon assured me. At that very moment, three things popped into my head: 1. it would be very rude of me to refuse the food which my host was recommending, 2. how awful of me to unfairly judge a stew who had never done anything to hurt me, and 3. doggone it, how many times in your life do you get invited to a Persian/Assyrian Christmas party? Eat up!
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