All About Aash

*[This piece was first published in the book called, Butter Tea and Banana Soup: Food as Identity in a prose form, for the purpose of this blog post, I have edited it into a poem]*

**

On that day, the mountainous wind was blowing, the sky was drunk.

The rain kept coming down like it was tearing the heart out of the land,

and the wind felt so groggy in the last days of summer and the coming

of autumn. I was running toward home as I was so hungry, coming

from school and holding 6th-grade books on my right side under

my big veil. All the way home I was hoping and praying that

my mother had cooked Afghani aash.

*

I arrived home and asked my mother, "What is for lunch?" Unfortunately,

it was not aash. It was chicken shorba (chicken soup).

I only said, "I wish we had aash on this rainy day," suddenly, my other four

siblings shouted the same sentence. Mother hard us, "It is easy to cook

aash and make you all happy. Let us cook it together."

*

She skilfully took two small plates of wheat flour,

added in a half spoon of salt, and a spoon of oil. She then mashed it

with a half glass of lukewarm water and made it into a stony pulp.

Then, she kept it aside to rest for fifteen minutes.

*

Meantime, she chopped fresh mint, coriander, and a handful of spinach:

all cultivated from her little garden. She put a big pot on the fireplace and

lit the wood underneath for a fire. She added a jug of water to the pot, so it

was almost full. When the water started to boil, she put in fresh

chopped mint, coriander, spinach, a little salt, and a little black pepper.

*

After the colour of the boiled water turned green, she took the mash,

worked it into small balls, and flattened each of the mashed balls till it

became very thin. Later she chopped all the flattened mashes into tiny, but

long slices- just like noodles. Then she added all the mash slices gently to

the boiling water. The smell of the mint mixed with spinach made us love

our mother more and more. After 15 minutes, my mother's aash was

ready to eat with some ghorot [Afghani white dried sour yoghurt sauce],

and leftover red bean qorma [curry] from last night.

*

While eating, both of my eyes were looking at the crying sky,

and inside I felt the fear of losing the taste and warmth of the aash in

the coldness outside. We closed our eyes to awaken our senses,

and in that moment, happiness took root with the taste of aash

lingering to this day, deep in our souls and the tips of our tongues.

**

Here is the recipe for you to try too:

INGREDIENTS: Afghani Noodles serves 6

wheat flour (two fistfuls, a mother's measurement)

salt (four heartfelt pinches）

black pepper (enough to give it an aroma)

oil (until the oil swims in the palm of your hand )

chopped mint 
(as much as you like it)

coriander 
(as much as you love it)

chopped spinach 
(as much as you want it)

water (add as much as you like to boil it)

above all patience (as much as you can have it in your soul)

**