Spas: Armenian yogurt soup

“I’ll have the spas,” is what I frequently said when we went out for lunch in Armenia. Spas (spahs) is a creamy, tart, filling and soup served warm in the winter and chilled during summer months.

This soup, sometimes called tahnabour or madzoon abour, is classic Armenian cuisine. It’s made with yogurt and wheat grain (dzedzadz is the name of the Armenian grain) and seasoned with mint or cilantro. In a mountainous country with harsh winters, most rural homes keep their cupboards well-stocked with dried buttermilk and grains.  Making spas makes sense—it’s an ancient comfort food.

When I visited Armenia this March, snow was still on the ground and temperatures dipped well below freezing. Spas was the perfect belly warmer for a cold day. And, I have also enjoyed chilled spas at the height of Armenian summer, when the cool yogurt and refreshing mint are the perfect pairing for hot, dry days.

There is an Armenian saying: Lentil soups are for fasting days and yogurt soups are for feasting days. All I can say is that I did a lot of feasting when I was in Armenia, because I [heart] spas.

Spas (yogurt soup with grains and herbs)

*Note: I have seen several recipe variations. Some use parsley, others use cilantro. Most also incorporate mint. Egg or wheat is necessary if the soup is hot; it keeps the yogurt from curdling.  You can also serve this soup chilled.

Ingredients

• 2/3 cup hulled wheat (farro, wheat berries or pearl barley can be used as a substitute if you can’t find hulled wheat)


• 3 cups yogurt (Greek-style yogurt is best)


• 3 cups water or chicken broth


• 1 egg* Do not use in the cold version of the soup


• 2T flour


• ½ tsp salt


• 4T butter


• 1 T mint (chopped)


• 1/3 T parsley or cilantro (chopped)

How to:

Cook wheat in 4 cups of water or broth until tender. Blend yogurt, water, egg and flour with a beater. Cook until it boils, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. Add salt, cooked wheat and remove from heat.  Saute onion in butter. Add mint and parsley. Combine with soup. Simmer five minutes.

Want to dip your spoon into more deliciousness? Check out Wanderfood Wednesday!

The first time I saw her and she saw me

For me, the journey to motherhood has been long and arduous. Many Mother’s Days passed where I felt sad, adrift. And, at times, I didn’t believe it would ever happen for me. Yet here I am, in the sisterhood of Mamas.

I’ve spent many hours thinking about I would feel, what I would say, when—at long last—I finally became a mom. And now that am, what I find myself thinking about are other mothers: my own mom; my sister and Big Papa’s mama—both adoptive moms; moms I’m close to, especially adoptive mamas who have walked my path; and, women I know who are still on the journey, particularly those who’ve experienced loss, like I have, to get to this place.

Today, I am also thinking about my daughter’s birth mother. Without her loss, I would not be celebrating this day. Even though we’ve never met, we will always be connected to each other through this little girl.

Baby Bird’s nannies are in my thoughts too. They were her Mamas for nearly one year. I will never forget their kindness, and how well they cared for her.

And there is another Mama I am thinking about today. She lives in Armenia and soon will become a mother herself, for the second time. This Mother’s Day, I am wearing earrings she gave me, earrings I admired, earrings she took out of her own ears and handed to me.

I am humbled by these gifts, my earrings, and my child. I look at them, at her and remember the land where my daughter was born, the mountains, the way the air smells, the people, the food, her rich heritage, the first time our eyes met, our story of coming together as a family, and how our joy in becoming a family means there will always be another family who lives with loss.

My daughter, too, will always carry this loss, even as she thrives with our love, and with us. As an adoptive mother, these two emotions—love and loss—will be forever entwined in my heart.

On my first Mother’s Day, I proudly wear these earrings, gifted to me by an Armenian mother, and made by an Armenia woman from the city near where my daughter was born.

I hope to wear these earrings each Mother’s Day from this day forward. And one day, if I am blessed to be alive when my daughter becomes a mother herself, I will pass them on to her. I will pass them on and retell the story of who wore them first, of where they came from…of where she came from, who she was born to and who raised her. I will make sure she knows that becoming a mother—no matter how you get there—is the mother of all journeys.

In 2010, I started going to Seattle’s Mamas with Cameras meetings. The mamas share a love of photography, and the group’s goal is to help those who attend develop the ability to take great digital photos to document family moments and milestones. Each month, there is a meeting with a speaker. And, each month, there is also an assignment based on something we learned the previous month.

Once a year there is a special assignment. Mamas pair up and swap a photo shoot with another mama in the group. For mamas (and anyone!) who spends a lot of time behind the camera, it’s rare to have pictures of yourself, much less yourself with your child.

I was matched up with Wenmei Hill, one of two fabulous women (Mary Balmaceda is the other)—both professional photographers—who started the group. Lucky me!

There was only one hitch. I didn’t have a child. I was the only “mama” attending the group who didn’t.

But when we got the assignment, Big Papa and I had already met the baby girl we hoped to adopt, the baby girl we thought would be our daughter. So, I decided “Why not?” I’d shoot photos for Wenmei and her two little sweeties and take a rain check on the swap. Once we we brought our daughter home, I’d “cash it in.”

It was an excellent plan. Except that our adoption fell through at the last minute.

Another year passed. I attended meeting after meeting. I would stay until the speaker finished and then leave before mamas shared photos they’d taken for the assignment of the month. It was too painful for me to see pictures of children and not have any of my own, particularly following the emotional devastation from our failed adoption.

And then, finally—after years of waiting—Baby Bird arrived. I was a MOM!

At the next meeting I attended, I shared the news. Wenmei graciously offered to come to our home this week and photograph the two of us—together.

When I received the email from Wenmei, with a link to our photos, I got a bit teary. On this Mother’s Day weekend, my first as a Mama after years of heartbreak and longing, these photographs symbolize so much: the bond between women—friends, sisters, mothers and daughters; the joy of photography; and, the importance of always holding on to my dreams.

And, if you want to see more baby-licioius photos? Click on over to Delicious Baby Photo Friday!