According to the Persian seer Avicenna, whose 'Canon of Medicine' Marjan often consulted, fenugreek is the first stop to curing winter chills. Combined with the hearty kidney beans and succulent meat of the herb stew, it made for an excellent 'garm', or hot, meal.

Perking at six foot one, and slender with the hands of a pianist, Malachy sported a mop of unruly black hair and sapphire eyes that sparkled like midnight suns. His luminous youth was something to marvel at indeed.

Let the kettle boil slowly...For stew boiled in haste is of no use to anyone.

Tacheen is a domed medley of baked saffron rice and chicken, forming the shape of a cathedral ceiling. On first glance, the dish looks curiously like 'chelow', plain steamed rice; it is only after slicing through its center that the layers of fortitude are exposed; first buttered rice and almonds, then fried chicken and sautéed spinach, the yogurt binding them into a brotherhood of delicious play. 'Tacheen.

She watched Malachy curl his long fingers around a lock of Layla's straight hair, gently caressing it as he mused on the origins of stars. The young astronomer knew that in Aristotelian times the word 'comet' meant "the length of luminous hair," but the word eventually changed to signify the orbiting streak that sometimes, just sometimes, flies a little too close to the sun.

For Marjan Aminpour, the fragrances of cardamom and rosewater, alongside basmati, tarragon, and summer savory, were everyday kinds of smells, as common, she imagined, as the aromas of instant coffees and dripping roasts were to conventional Western kitchen corners.

Ah, Shiraz! What a town! The rose gardens, the nightingales. Paradise. You know, I got a hold of some wine while I was there. I'll never forget that bouquet." Julian cleared his throat. " 'Rose petals let us scatter and fill the cup with red wine, the firmaments let us shatter and come with a new design.' "He lifted his glass in a toast to Hafez's ode to the fermented grape.Marjan met his toast with her own glass.

Born, as her name indicated, on the first day of the Persian spring, she had the superstitious nature of people whose birthdays fall on the cusps of changing seasons. She was forever looking over her shoulder for fear that she had stepped on cracks or wandered under a ladder. Bahar's inherent nervousness had escalated to a deeper malaise in recent years, the result of unspeakable events that had left indelible scars.

Hold on," Marjan said, reaching behind a tin of pistachio nougats. She found the bottle, unscrewing the cap as her back was turned to her sisters. She upended it, letting the rosewater, the priceless tears of that queen of blossoms, pool in her cupped hand.She turned back to Bahar and smiled. "Better late than never," she said, showering her sister with a brand-new day.

To him, Layla's promising aroma was not a reminder of a long-lost boyhood or the instigator of teenage lust. No, for Malachy, the sight of Layla's exotic profile filling up a bag of white onions was a sign, a resounding 'yes' to the age-old questions of the divine.Yes, there was a God. Yes, there was life beyond the sleepy valleys of Ballinacroagh. Yes, there 'were' undiscovered universes waiting just for him. And one of them was standing right before him, in all her astounding milky ways.