For me, scoops of my mother's Anushapour are pure autumn in a bowl.
An Armenian traditional sweet "soup" that is rarely known in Yerevan markets, Anushapour is my favorite thing in the fall. Its name is from the Armenian word Anush meaning tasty and apour meaning soup, literally ‘tasty soup’. Though it actually has nothing in common with soup it resonates a lot to how soups are made. When taken from a stove the hot mixture is liquidy but after cooling down it solidifies similar to porridge or pudding.
Anushapour is a rich dish cooked with husked wheat and any dried fruits on hand. Raisins, apricots, pears, peaches, figs, apples- almost anything in your backyard. It’ll warm up any home with just a pinch of spice, walnuts, and yes, pomegranate seeds on top.
I know about this dish only because my mother used to make it when my brother and I were little. Oftentimes coming inside to a warm invitation of fruit aromas after spending all day outside. Sundays with Sunday cartoons were my favorite; our little bodies toasting under little blanket tents over the heater, waiting for bowls of Anushapour.
I remember taking small spoonfuls of it, one after another, and each bite melted in my mouth. This dessert, accompanied with long sweet talks into the evening, always brought my family together. Some people like hot chocolate on rainy days, I’ve always liked this brown porridge my mom used to make.
I haven’t eaten it since I was 10. It’s weird that I’ve never asked my mom to make it since I was a kid because I have very fond memories of it. Growing up it was always my favorite dessert but year after year it slowly faded away.
Today, it’s a chilly fall day in Yerevan. On cold gloomy days like today, I am nostalgic about eating Anushapour. Nostalgia just to have that taste again sit on the back of my tongue. I asked my mother to tell me more about it and why it had disappeared from family tradition. While setting the table, she looked at me dead in the eye and said:
“YOU, and your brother, were not eating it anymore. That’s why I stopped making it.”
Guilt and disappointment. We lost our tradition because of me.
Cooking it today is all about reviving our old family recipe and tasting what tradition means to me. Maybe even as an apology. This was something we could truly call ours - just a few nuts, fruit and grains tossed together has given my adult-self a greater sense of the significance of food.
My great-great-grandfather brought lots of Western Armenian cookbooks from the USA over a century ago. The recipe of Anushapour was a to-be-gem my mom found in one of them. She fell in love with making all these new recipes. Since then Western Armenian cuisine has become an essential part of our household. It’s what makes us different from our nearby relatives and neighbors.
Truthfully, my mom never decorated this porridge. It was always simple and organic. It tastes best messy, everything just thrown in a bowl. Changing the original recipe, I’ve added pomegranate seeds and almonds for extra crunch and juiciness. Choose-your-own-adventure.
Heavy fruitopia smell, jam heaven with the almost indistinguishable waft of walnuts kissing cinnamon - that is Anushapour.
Words & photos by Arpine Kirakosyan
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