Maman's Homesick Pie: A Persian Heart in an American Kitchen

This is a memoir to savor. It's a breath-taking account of a young woman who lived the life of a cherished and richly encompassed child of the world at large. I became spellbound by Donia Bijan's life story immediately, and found myself holding my breath as I grasped her book, not wanting to read it slowly, but speeding through its pages like a delicious crepe filled with Turkish coffee ice cream.

While Ms Bijan's memoir is captivating in and of itself, her exotic recipes included at the end of chapters are both slightly tipped with the savory and screaming to be tried in one's own kitchen. I can hardly wait to try her Cardamom Honey Madeleines. Proustians everywhere know of his love affair with Madeleines to begin with, so her show more distinctive twist of cardamom with trying out farmers' market honeys makes this recipe irresistible to me. We have a great farmers' market in Naples.

Not to mention that I have a fabulous Madeleine pan I've never used!

What I found intriguing among so many things about this memoir is the tone of her literary "voice." I suppose I expected a lilting celebration of food and family...a "warm and inviting kitchen" experience as expressed on the cover review. Instead, Ms Bijan's telling of her past life as a refugee from revolutionary-torn Iran, to the shores of a hip and culturally shocking San Francisco, and an unimaginably glorious but difficult training in the bowels of kitchens in Paris, France, is somewhat maudlin. It's reflective. I found it a surprise, and a powerful memoir for that reason.

Food, studying the art of food preparation and restauranteering isn't what's important in her memoir, it seems to me. What is important is the underlying story of trials, family obligations and examples of dedication to others, of loving and sharing gifts through food, of finding wholeness within the simplicity of homemade and close-to-home foods and ingredients that are discovered. Food was the life-blood of Donia's family. It is also the foundation of her heritage,where she is today, and where her son and future generations are going.

It was significant to me that her mother was not only a central figure in Donia's learning the importance of food and cooking, but she was a strong role-model: a midwife, a women's liberation advocate, a tireless volunteer in wartime, a teacher, a woman of grace and celebration, a needlewoman, a mother and devoted wife. Her mother didn't show her the example of taking the easy road in life, of failing to show up and give ones best efforts. It's obvious in Donia's life.

I highly recommend this book of many trips through a life that's magical and meaningful. There is much I've left out because there's so much in this memoir, beautifully told, never boring--quite the opposite--like a teatime set with Brussels lace on a silver tray holding lemon tea steeped in a china pot draped in a knitted cozy...side served with a plate of freshly baked cardamom Madeleines; this book will be in your hands until the last perfect word is read.

5 delicious stars

Deborah/TheBookishDame show less

Exile is threaded into your daily life long after you have become a citizen and pledged your allegiance and can make the best brownies in the neighborhood. I was compelled to make sense of my parents’ journey from Iran to America to understand the world they inhabited. Just five years shy of my mother’s age when she immigrated, I have to wonder if I possess a fraction of her will to start over at square one. Now that her tablecloth has been folded for the last time, the recipes are my only key to unlocking my parents’ experience as immigrants, looking back to see into their lives as I move forward into mine. It turns out, I don’t need to forget to move on. – from Maman’s Homesick Pie, page 6 -

Donia Bijan’s book is part show more memoir and part cookbook, a heartfelt examination of how our mothers and the love they serve up with our favorite foods become the inspiration for our lives. Bijan’s family fled Iran during the Revolution of the 1970s when Bijan was a teenager. Forced to leave behind everything, they began a new life in the United States. Bijan’s father was a renowned doctor who had opened a hospital in the heart of Tehran, while her mother was a talented nurse who later became a voice for Iranian women as an activist for women’s rights. When the Shah was overthrown, Bijan’s mother became a target for the new Khomeini regime.

My mother took on any establishment that did not give women a voice, and that was essentially every institution. If her drive had not coincided with that of a monarch who wished to modernize Iran rapidly, she most certainly would have been chided and silenced. But instead, she found the support and the blessings of Queen Farah. My mother found that she had a knack for politics and diplomacy, and soon she was on the boards of various organizations, fighting for women’s rights, becoming the director of Tehran’s first nursing school. – from Maman’s Homesick Pie, page 73 -

Maman’s Homesick Pie takes the reader from those earliest days of exile through the death of Bijan’s parents many years later, telling the story of Donia Bijan as she grew into a young woman enthralled with food and searching for her cultural identity. Bijan attended the Cordon Bleu in Paris despite her father’s disappointment that she would not pursue a career in medicine. Her mother’s support and the inner strength which she instilled in her daughter, were the motivation Bijan relied on to pursue her culinary dreams.

She believed a parent’s job was to provide love and security without staking any claims on a child’s future, that children owned their dreams, their mishaps, their triumphs, and their failures. – from Maman’s Homesick Pie, page 98 -

Later, after internships in France and working in a number of renowned restaurants in San Francisco, Bijan achieved her life’s goal of opening a French-inspired restaurant, L’Amie Donia, in Palo Alto.

Interspersed through Bijan’s memoir are wonderful recipes, some belonging to her mother, others those which she adapted as her own. Some of these are ones I will most certainly try myself: Orange Cardamom Cookies, Braised Chicken with Persian Plums, Potato Waffles with Creme Fraiche, and My Mother’s Apple Pie.

The book is filled with exquisite details of France, and mouth-watering descriptions of food. Bijan writes beautifully, capturing the nuances of what it is like to grow up in a foreign country while struggling to define one’s cultural identity. Her memories of her parents are often bittersweet, and her longing to memorialize her mother is evident.

When feelings well up from the past, a longing for a voice, a place, I reach for the manila envelope that holds her recipes. If I knew how to sew, perhaps I’d look through her sewing basket for the measuring tape, the velvet pincushion I bought her in Chinatown one Christmas, the buttons in the cookie tin. But I’m a cook, so I look at her recipes. – from Maman’s Homesick Pie, page 235 -

I enjoyed this earnest memoir with its peek inside a family who was forced to flee their homeland. Readers who enjoy the genre of memoir and who love food and cooking, will find much to appreciate in Bijan’s book. show less

"Maman's Homesick Pie: A Persian Heart in an American Kitchen", by Donia Bijan, is exquisite. If I could, I would give it a "10 star" review! Both beautiful and heartbreaking, this very personal story is as emotional as it is entertaining. More than a memoir, it is a celebration of food, life, and indomitable human spirit. No one has a perfect family. The more we try to deny that we are like our mother, the more we become our mother. I don't think we really appreciate our elders until we have ourselves "gently matured". The introduction of "Maman's Homesick Pie" tells of the author's experience in packing up her mother's things after her mother's death. The memories that came rolling in like unstoppable waves as she touched all the show more "treasures" that her mother had saved through the years were met with both laughter and tears. The story is remarkable in the telling of what the author's family life was like before they were forced into exile from their native Iran and how they later found a new life in California. It is amazing in how the human spirit can renew itself and not only survive, but thrive. The ways in which the author's mother learned to adapt and combine two cultures in cooking and other aspects of life is inspiring, and it is also a thoughtful source of enlightenment about human dignity. The preparation and sharing of food is an innate, intuitive, and instinctive process. Food is present for all the important occasions in our lives, both joyful and sad. For me, this book was a lovely, lyrical introduction to another culture and also greater insight into the culinary world. Even though we are very different, in many ways we face the same life issues. Women need to support each other. We understand each other in ways that men cannot always comprehend. As I write this review, it is a cold, wintry day here in the mountains of Virginia. I have a pot of vegetable-beef soup simmering on the stove, and the combined smell of bay leaves and other savory ingredients is swirling around me as I put together my thoughts. As if that wasn't enough of a treat, I just took two loaves of yeasty, crusty bread from the oven. Simple food, yet soulful and satisfying. Food is a universal communicator, even when it is spoken in different languages. Donia Bijan's recipes, along with "Maman's", are tempting me to cook outside my "kitchen box"! The only thing better than reading this book would have been to taste the food as I read the story. "Maman's Homesick Pie" is a wonderful gift from author Donia Bijan. It is absolutely perfect for lovers of food and books--just like me. It is especially touching for those of us who had someone like "Maman", and it is even more poignant for those who long for the special magic of someone as unequaled and irreplaceable as "Maman".

Review Copy Gratis Algonquin Books show less

Although I'm not always a memoir person, I'm a sucker for stories involving food. Bijan's memoir about her mother, her own culinary memories, growing up Iranian, and setting out to be a chef against her father's wishes charmed me from the first page. When she closed the prologue with recipes for cardamom tea and orange cardamom cookies, I knew I was in love.

Bijan's book is a memoir and homage to her family; as she writes in her Author's Note, it is "an attempt to find answers to the questions I never asked my parents, such as How did it feel to start your life from nothing?". Working from her mother's untimely death, she moves mostly chronologically from her childhood in idyllic, pre-Islamic Revolution Iran through her family's forced show more migration to California where she and her family struggled to find their place in the U.S. (Anyone who's read Persepolis will appreciate the situation the Bijans faced if they returned to Iran, but even those unfamiliar with Iranian history won't be confused as Bijan writes briefly but clearly about it.)

Bijan's writing is straight-forward but possesses lovely sensory details that I so enjoy, especially when reading about food.  Anyone who's read about Julia Child will enjoy the cameo by Madame Brassart at Le Cordon Bleu as well as the other tidbits about the famed institution.

And even though I'm not captivated by the culinary world, I found Bijan's sections about her education at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris to be fascinating, and I found myself hoping she'd write a more detailed memoir about that. Bijan writes passionately and honestly about becoming a chef in the '80s, both in Paris and in the US, and the trials and joys she faced as often the only female chef in a kitchen. (There's a shocking story about a broken hollandaise sauce and her chef instructor's response that left my jaw on the ground; I would not have had Bijan's fortitude and it was one of many stories that made me admire her!)

I closed the book feeling like I knew Bijan's family and I miss spending time with her (and her food!).  This is a fast, sweet, enjoyable read that will make your mouth water.  (My wife and I plan to make her Saffron Yogurt Rice with Chicken and Eggplant this weekend and one of the sumptuous desserts -- if we can pick one!). show less

Cardamom. What IS cardamom, and where do I buy it?

This is one of the first questions to plague me as I read this memoir by Donia Bijan, an accomplished chef with a life story that is as fascinating as it is bittersweet. Initially, I hesitated before I began reading, as the last few memoirs I’ve read have been sort of “blah”. And when I saw that this book contains recipes, I thought that was a cutesy gimmick, as I once read a mystery that had recipes enclosed, which annoyed me to no end (yes, I get easily annoyed).

However, I curled up with it on a recent rainy day and couldn’t put it down. It’s lovely. Really. Bijan writes in a natural pace, and her stories brims with poignant details. It begins with the tragic death of her show more mother, and her task of going through her mother’s objects. The task is dreary until she finds her mother’s collection of recipes clipped from newspapers or on cards from friends. At this point, she finds the theme that ties her life to her mother’s: food. As a chef, the recipe cards she finds are revealing because they show how her mother, exiled from Iran, tried to adapt to American life at a time when being from Iran was a cause for suspicion.

Going back to the beginning, Bijan recounts her childhood experiences of living in the hospital that her father built. While he was a successful doctor in Iran (and devoted foodie on his own), her mother was head nurse and cook for the patients. Bijan and her sisters assisted their parents and were an active part of hospital life. The nature of food in that hospital was not simple of sustenance but of comfort; meals were designed to be shared, lingered over, and enjoyed as a communal activity.


is it really $47 for a 2 ounce bottle?
After her parents are exiled, Bijan goes to school in the US and later to Paris where she is trained at the Cordon Bleu. As she remains close to her mother, her relationship with her father is strained as he envisioned a future for her more prestigious than that of a chef. Bijan works in the field, rising to the top of San Francisco’s cooking scene before deciding to return to France to work as an apprentice to hone her craft further. At all points of her story, food is always treated as a purposeful endeavor; the composition of a home-made meal the ultimate display of love and attentiveness.

The recipes included are those that tie into each story, and there is nothing gimmicky about them. Several I have earmarked to try. But nothing tops the story itself—it is heartwarming and genuinely lovely to read. Definitely a feel-good story and I seriously think it would be a great gift for a foodie friend.

It can’t be denied that Bijan’s life was one of privilege: her parents were wealthy and she pretty much was able to undertake whatever opportunities appealed to her. But her hard work and self-sacrifice keeps the reader from feeling that her life was an exception. But to illustrate, at one point she describes life in Paris where she is toiling under brutal teachers at Cordon Bleu:

“Most evenings, on my way home, I would stop to buy half a baguette, then heard to the fromagerie for a wedge of cheese I had never tasted, and finally go to the produce stand for a single peach, or two figs, maybe a tomato.”

Maybe that is supposed to sound minimal, but being that it’s Paris, PARIS (!!!!), it sounds impossibly elegant. In all seriousness, a fromagerie isn’t exactly in the strip mall in town. I admit, that single statement evoked much jealousy on my part, and possibly would on any woman’s part, because we know she gets to go back to her small but elegant apartment with a view of the Seine. In any case, the envy I felt didn’t diminish the book in any way. The reader sincerely wants her to succeed in her endeavors. Highly recommend! show less

Maman’s Heartsick Pie: A Persian Heart in an American Kitchen, by Donia Bijan (Algonquin Books, Oct. 2011)

I may not be a terrific cook, but I love to read books about cooking, and I love books by chefs who lure me into the kitchen with their evocative descriptions of pies with buttery, tender crusts; sweet plum jam; salads studded with peppery watercress and nasturtium leaves, and much more. So how could I resist the debut book by chef Donia Bijan, Maman’s Heartsick Pie?

When you’re welcomed into an Iranian home, Bijan tells us, you’ll likely be offered a cup of hot tea, served in a glass that shows its amber hue, along with a few sugar cubes and a tray of sweets. Lift the teacup to your nose, she urges, and inhale the exotic show more fragrance of cardamom, a spice with notes of clove and cinnamon, fennel and anise.

Scents can take us back to memories long past, and Bijan, an award-winning chef, opens her book with a recipe for this traditional Persian tea. More recipes follow, as Bijan shares her story through the language of food in this lovely, heartfelt book. She reveals how her family fled Iran in 1978 to escape the Islamic Revolution, and arrived in California to establish a new home. There, her mother continued to prepare Persian dishes like Saffron Yogurt Rice with Chicken and Eggplant, Persimmon Parfait, and Cinnamon Date Bars, while her new neighbors taught her to whip up American pot roasts and batches of Thanksgiving dressing.

Bijan’s love of cooking eventually led her, with her mother’s support, to enroll in the famous Cordon Bleu cooking school in Paris and later, to apprentice in celebrated French kitchens. In 1994, she opened a French cuisine restaurant, L’amie Donia, in Palo Alto. Her customers dined on fig tarts, paella with Gulf shrimp, and roasted stuffed quince with homemade fennel sausage, all dishes she once made with her mother when they lived in Tehran, Paris, and Majorca. The restaurant is no longer open, so Bijan divides her time between writing, teaching, raising her son, and cooking.

From the first page of this book– I’m not giving anything away– Bijan reveals that her mother died unexpectedly, in a tragic accident, yet sadness does not permeate her story. She sprinkles recipes generously throughout its pages, reveling in her rich inheritance from her mother, which plays out in her love for foods, and her sense of family and home.

I’m enjoying this book for its glimpse into another culture, and I think you will, too. Carry it into your kitchen to experiment with black olives and purple plums, rose petal ice cream, and warm lentil salad. The recipes, like Bijan’s memoir, are simply delicious. show less

After reading Bijan's first novel [The Last Days of Café Leila] I looked forward to her earlier memoir and have not been disappointed. Bijan's family was on vacation in Spain when they got the call saying it wasn't safe for them to return to Iran. In 1978 they left Spain and came to America, settling in California.

Starting over, particularly when it wasn't expected, was so difficult for her parents, particularly her father. He was not fluent in English and was never able to pass the exams necessary for an American medical license. Her mother, fluent in English, was able to begin working in a hospital quickly. Eventually her father would return to Iran periodically to work.

Not surprisingly Bijan's father's dream for her was a career in show more medicine. She tried but soon found it wasn't for her. Instead, greatly disappointing her father, she became a Cordon Bleu trained chef, studying under the famed Madame Brassart. Deciding to remain in France for three apprenticeships, she returned to California and eworked in several restuarants, eventually opening her own award-winning bistro.

Bijan writes with great passion causing the reader to care about her and her family. At the end of each chapter she includes Iranian and Iranian/American recipes, some of them her mother's. show less