6 Common Iranian Home Remedies You Should Know

Updated: 8 July 2019

Persian traditional medicine, or tebbe sonnati, has a long history in Iran. If you visit the mausoleum of Avicenna today in Hamedan, you’ll see his many contributions to the field as well as his Canon of Medicine. From attâri with their herbal remedies to “warm- and cold-natured” food, these traditional ways are very much a part of everyday life in Iran. So here’s a brief look at how alongside 6 common home remedies and natural cures in Iran that for some of you may be all too familiar.

Attâri and araghijât

Attâri (with stress on the last syllable, not like the game) are the plentiful traditional stores where you can find all kinds of medicinal herbs, spices, natural soaps and shampoos. There’s any kind of oil you can think of to treat everything from those pesky split ends to aching muscles. Here’s where you’ll also find araghijât, distillates. They are plentiful in attâri, but you’ll be sure to come across them in any street market as well. I tend to get overexcited in these places, flipping through the pamphlets which list the many ailments they cure and if they are warm or cold in nature. Then I start thinking I need one of each, you know… just in case. Thankfully, my more practical side takes over, so now if you look in my kitchen cabinets, you’ll only find my personal staples: nanâ (mint), bidmeshk (pussy willow), bâbuneh (chamomile), âvishan (thyme), bahâr narenj (orange blossom), and ostukhodus (lavendar). And of course I wouldn’t be able to call myself Iranian if I didn’t have golâb (rosewater).

(Fun fact: the English “julep” comes from the Persian golâb!)

These aragh have made their way onto cafe menus in Iran (alongside damnoosh– herbal teas). But just like herbs and spices, with a lot of these herbal teas and distillates, I know the Persian but not the English. In cafes, my eye involuntarily goes to the English menu (obviously) where it’ll list “chicory” so matter-of-factly. That’s when I turn to the Persian. Oh, ok so it’s kâsni… I still don’t know what that is, but at least the name is more familiar. I’ll order that.

These herbal distillates make popular summer drinks. The two most common are probably khâkshir (literally, “dirt milk”) which is water, syrup, and rosewater with tiny brown seeds I’ve seen translated as teff, mugwort, London rocket, and flixweed (I have no idea which one, if any, is correct. It’s just khâkshir to me). Tokhme sharbati (a chia seed-rosewater drink) and bidmeshk (pussy willow) are other popular ones. The combinations are seemingly endless, and each cafe offers its own variety. As for me, I usually go for anything with the fragrant bahâr narenj (orange blossom) in it.  

“Cold” and “warm” foods

Iran also has the concept of “cold” and “warm” foods (similarly, people can also have cold and warm natures), which I still don’t entirely understand or believe in to be perfectly honest. Years ago, I was talking about this with a Greek-American friend who told me this concept also exists in Greece and that he, too, didn’t really get it. I attribute the fact that we were on the same page about this particular issue to our American upbringing.

Basically, some foods are cold in nature, some are warm. And in Persian cooking, you have a balance of them. Take fesenjoon, for instance. Walnuts are warm, and pomegranates are cold. Mâst-o khiâr (yogurt with cucumbers) is cold which is why it’s usually sprinkled with dried mint and maybe even has some raisins, walnuts, and rose petals (warm ingredients) to balance it out. It’s imbalance that causes ailments. I can’t tell you how many times my cousin has claimed her skin broke out because of something warm she ate. Or her stomach hurts because she ate too many cold foods. When I told her about a problem once, she said it was because I had eaten too much cold and recommended saffron tea because it’s warm. I’m getting better at guessing what’s warm and cold, but I’m still not entirely on board with this idea.

So with that little bit of background of how traditional/herbal medicine fits into every day life in Iran, here are 6 common Iranian home remedies.

Chai nabât, the cure-all

Chai nabât (tea with rock candy) is every Persian mama’s cure-all. Fever? Drink chai nabât. Food poisoning? Chai nabât will help. Break your leg? No problem, just make some chai nabât. Ok, I may be exaggerating, but nabât really is believed to have wonderfully curative powers. This is especially true when it comes to stomachaches or menstrual cramps. In the US, you automatically go for some ibuprofen, but the first thought to pop into the head of an Iranian woman is none other than chai nabât. (Preferably the yellow nabât with saffron.)

Shalgham for colds

According to Iranians, shalgham (turnips) cures everything from SARS to a sore throat. But this lowly root vegetable is best known for being the go-to for the common cold. Most Iranians harbor terrible memories of their mothers forcing them to eat turnips as a child when they caught a cold (just read Fig and Quince’s hilarious memories and how she now thinks the turnip just needs better PR- gotta love it!) But I have no such memories. Maybe that’s why I am the oddity who gets excited when turnips make their first appearance in the market in the fall. Boiled and lightly salted, I’m in heaven. Of course, don’t even think about pouring out the water that you boiled them in. While it’s still hot, place a towel over your head to breath in the vapor like steam therapy (bokhur in Persian). They say it has beneficial properties to cleanse your lungs.

Quince seeds for sore throats & coughing

I never knew about this one until my first year in Tehran when I suffered from a terrible cough for two straight months. It actually became physically painful to cough because my chest was so sore, but I just couldn’t get rid of it. And it all happened around Nowruz, a time when I was with my relatives and therefore couldn’t cough without feeling self-conscious. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with an uncontrollable coughing fit and have to run to the bathroom because all I could think about was how I was waking everyone up. And that’s when my dearest Khaleh Parvin handed me an old pill bottle that had been repurposed to hold a more traditional type of therapy- quince seeds. Quince seeds that she herself had painstaking salvaged from the heaps of quince she had scrubbed, cored, and chopped to make morabâ beh (quince jam). “Soak a few in boiling water. Lâ’âb mide (they’ll form a gel). Then drink it,” she said.

These magical little seeds were the only thing that helped immensely and got about as close to curing my cough as they could. The gel was remarkably soothing for my throat, and for the next few weeks, that tiny jar of quince seeds became my faithful companion wherever I went until the day I was finally able to tuck it away in my medicine cabinet next to the Advil, thermometer, and bandaids. Thankfully, I haven’t had to use it again.

Aragh nanâ for stomachaches

Stomachaches call for some aragh nanâ (mint distilled water). If you overeat in Iran, which you’re bound to do, take a swig of this stuff to ease the bloating. It does help, but overall, I’m not a fan and can’t stand more than a shot. Even then, I like to dilute it with water. Meanwhile, I know people who drink it by the glass! I would much rather have chai nanâ instead. 

Golgav zabun for cold/flu & stomachaches

Golgav zabun can be picked apart into gol (flower) gâv (cow) zabun (tongue). I’ve seen the English as “borage,” and it’s a lovely indigo flower that grows in the north of Iran. You brew the petals just like normal tea and pair it with limoo amâni (dried lime) or a few drops of fresh lemon juice (which turns it a beautiful shade of rose), and stir in some nabât (rock candy). It’s another remedy for the cold and flu, menstrual cramps, and to calm the nerves.

A lot of times, golgav zabun is brewed with sonbole-tib (valerian root), but I would practice extreme caution with this and only do it if you know the exact right amount to use. Better yet, just don’t sleep for a while after you drink it. I’m obviously speaking from experience. Many years ago, my uncle and I had a nightly ritual of drinking golgav zabun and sonbol-e tib just before bed. And I would sleep like a baby those nights. Then one night, my uncle went on a trip, so it was my aunt who made the tea instead. We drank it and went to bed. The next morning, we both stumbled out of our rooms, hair in disarray, eyes wide open in sheer terror. “Did you have weird dreams, too?” she asked me. “Very weird! Vivid! Nightmarish! What was that?!” I exclaimed. “It must have been the tea, but we have it every night!” Later, when my uncle returned, he just shook his head with a rather smug look. “You have to know the exact dose. Not everyone can make that tea.” 

Doogh for diarrhea

You don’t have to worry about traveler’s diarrhea because Iran has the perfect remedy for that- doogh, the salty yogurt drink that’s the beverage of choice to wash down your rice and kebab lunch right before slipping into a coma. Any time my siblings and I had problems during our summers in Iran, it was doogh-e shoor (salty doogh) to the rescue! And the saltier with extra dried mint on top, the better. These days, it’s available absolutely everywhere from restaurants to grocery stores to tiny sandwich dives, so have no fear. You can even make it at home: just mix a few spoons of yogurt with water and adjust until you get your desired consistency. Add lots of salt and dried mint (if you have some) and voila!

Alternatively, there’s kateh bâ mâst (sticky rice with yogurt) to help with diarrhea. It’s a simple, plain rice (purposely made more sticky), so it shouldn’t upset your stomach, and the yogurt helps “gather” everything. Whichever one you choose, yogurt is key here. You gotta have yogurt.

Share it on Pinterest