Waiting excitedly behind the door of my grandmother’s house, each family member wears a piece of red clothing. The door opens to the warm, loud gathering. We’re greeted with kisses and hugs, our faces still ice-cold from the winter chill outside. Inside, relatives with red-stained hands peel mountains of pomegranates, snacks are piled high on the table, and the gurgling sound of large pots bubbling on the stove fills the air. This is Yalda: a celebration of light, birth, and renewal.
Yalda marks the winter solstice, the longest and darkest night of the year, a turning point in the harshest part of the cold season. It comes after three grueling months of winter, offering a brief reprieve as people gather to celebrate with the delicacies of the season: watermelons, nuts, and dried fruits stored for months in anticipation of the cold night.
Historically, staying up late on Yalda had a protective purpose. The longest night was once considered particularly inauspicious, and people would gather to fend off evil through companionship, light, and sustenance. Providing adequate food for this sleepless night became central to the celebration’s identity. Families and friends would gather in the warmth of the elders’ homes, greeted by light, laughter, and the comforting heat of a korsi—a low table with a heater underneath, covered by heavy blankets. They would fight for a coveted spot under the korsi, filled with an abundance of snacks and dishes, and recite Hafez’s poetry late into the night.
Though traditional korsi gatherings have largely been replaced by simpler coffee tables, and the practical need to store watermelons for months has faded, the essence of Yalda persists. Food remains a cornerstone of the celebration, and Iranians still hold a deep fondness for its customs.
The spread for Yalda is both symbolic and indulgent. Pomegranates, their ruby-red seeds representing light and vitality, share the table with watermelons, nuts, dried fruits, pastries, and tokhmeh, which are essential to help keep you awake during the night. Fine wine and Ash Reshteh add to the feast. As the night deepens, dinner takes center stage, often featuring dishes built around Anar (pomegranate), a fruit that symbolizes the triumph of light over darkness. Fesenjoon, a rich stew made with pomegranate and walnuts, and Morghe Nardooni, a pomegranate-infused chicken dish, are Yalda staples.
This night of celebration is as much about joy as it is about reflection. We drink and dance to old Iranian melodies, cherishing the warmth of shared moments. Toward the end of the evening, Hafez’s poetry takes the spotlight. Gathered in a circle, we close our eyes, make wishes, and open the Divan of Hafez to a random page, seeking guidance or glimpses of what the future might hold in the verses we decipher.
Modernity has reshaped Yalda’s rituals, but its heart—a celebration of light, connection, and renewal—remains steadfast as a reminder to bring us together, even on the longest and darkest nights.
