وزارد او دا وستساد
VIZITOR TO THE VESTSIDE
an
American blog of Iranian dissent

Rock Candy Horror Show

Happy Halloveen, folks.

I'm a big fan of secular holidays. Including pagan ones. Anything that's unifying and festive without men in big hats and black robes is fine with me. (Unless the hat and robe produce this ensemble.)

If local kids rang your doorbell on Saturday, and your grandparents answered the door, what would they do? Most Persian kitches aren't stacked with junk food like your average American cupboard is, thankfully. Not that we don't indulge in sugar intake, but maybe its about keeping it real and not of the artificial variety. (BOO-yah!) Of course back in the day I was still bitter when mamani would put one little dinky snack inside my Snoopy lunchbox while other kids were chowing down on Little Debbies.

A recent episode of the Office (Stateside version) featured a wedding scene where the kooky boss played by Steve Carrell is sat alongside an older lady. He then whispers: "Hi, you're a mom. Do you have anything in your purse for me to eat?" Hilarious. This whole time I was thinking I had the only grandma whose perfumed purse had crumbs in it with stale pieces of half-split sticks of Doublemints.


I had the urge on Saturday to change the course of meals for the lil' shit-talkers and shit-eaters, by dropping some knowledge as well as shirinis inside their trick-o-treat bags.
There was enormous disappointment when I first saw that naabat is called 'rock candy' in America. Do they not know how it makes your tummy ache go away after dropping a some into your chai?

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