With its moody lighting, classic bistro chairs, and crisp white tablecloths, Jean’s is one of those dining rooms that radiates old-world New York City glamour. But on Wednesday night, as the restaurant and club closed its doors for a private Nowruz dinner party, it was reimagined as something more transportive—a space geared up to celebrate the Persian New Year and to ring in the arrival of spring.
The evening began with cocktail hour, where I chatted with my fellow guests in the lobby, who were eagerly predicting what they thought might be on the menu. That anticipation was understandable: The hosts of the evening—Celine Yousefzadeh Laz, Alexandra and Davitta Niakani, Sarvi Shahbazi-Downs, and Lailee Taghdisi—aren’t just friends due to their shared heritage, but are all hospitality geniuses. These women are renowned for their work with New York City institutions, including the caviar and culinary experience brand CY Kitchen, restaurants like Catch and Bartolo, and Jean’s itself, where Taghdisi is head of operations.
As guests began shuffling in and the dining room was being set with finishing touches, Yousefzadeh Laz introduced herself. Her caviar brand, CYK Caviar, was the featured appetizer item during cocktail hour, but Yousefzadeh Laz was quick to point out everything else: the chef team from Nasrin’s Kitchen, the wine from Azizam, the pastries from Bibi Bakery and Popilee, all of which had Persian roots. “These little sweets are a work of art,” she said, pointing to the baklava scattered with pink rose petals and colorful almond sweets as if they hadn’t already caught my attention.
Shahbazi-Downs, who runs strategy and business development at Catch Hospitality Group, was casual about how loose and last-minute this came together. “If you had seen this room like five hours ago, you’d think there’s no party happening,” she said. I believe she earnestly meant that, and yet it was one of the most beautifully executed productions I’ve ever seen up close: not least the haft seen table, which sat in pride of place. Underneath the billowing blooms of spring flowers provided by LilyFete, like hyacinths, cherry blossoms, and tulips, sat the seven elements traditionally arranged under it—such as bulbs of garlic and piles of sumac—as well as candles, split pomegranates, and decorated eggs, donated by Sadaf.
Translated from Persian, Nowruz means “new day.” It falls on the spring equinox, marking the new year on the Zoroastrian calendar. And it’s a particularly important celebration for Iranians in the diaspora. Nowruz has been celebrated for over three millennia, and now, with so many Iranians spread across the globe, the choice to celebrate it is about a deliberate, meaningful preservation of identity.
At dinner, I’m seated across from Omid Afshar, the founder of Club Joon, which hosts events celebrating “Persian culture, music, and connection” across cities including New York and London. (Naturally, Afshar was in charge of the dance party following dinner.) I told him I loved his name, and he proudly asked me if I knew what it meant. I said yes, as I’m Pakistani, and Urdu borrowed the word, which means “hope,” from Farsi.
As brown kids in America often end up doing, we find ourselves talking about diaspora—how the label can be frustrating, and how the word is so easily flattened. How no one in any diaspora has a simple relationship to it, and how it’s always as beautiful as it is complicated. It’s a subject that felt especially timely given the ongoing conflict in Iran, which everyone in the room had surely thought about every day since it started. I have too. But diasporas are never monoliths, and within the Persian diaspora, there are no easy answers around what the best solution is for their community. That’s exactly why the preservation of traditions like Nowruz is sacred.
And one of the richest traditions of Nowruz is, of course, the food. The menu began with crispy saffron rice bites topped with caviar and Barbari bread from Jonny’s Pizza served with dips, then followed by a breathtaking display of Nasrin’s Kitchen’s slow-cooked lamb and fish with crispy skin and stewed sabzi and legumes—so much food that, at times, it was hard to keep the courses straight. (Though it was impossible to miss the giant tins being toted around the dining room and bar for impromptu caviar interludes.)
After dinner, the staff at Jean’s pulled a magic trick they know well: they cleared out the entire dining room of all its tables and chairs, and converted the place into a club. When I went to the bathroom, I realized there was already a line outside of people waiting to get in and dance. (In a place like New York City, you take for granted that this is just a Wednesday night.) The DJs for the evening were Shereen Cohen Kheradyar and DJ Lil Buddy, and the room was quickly filled body to body, dancing to club mixes of Persian classics.
On my way out, I caught Shahbazi-Downs with her husband and a group of their friends heading out for a quick smoke. We huddled under the scaffolding outside, and when all the skinny cigarettes burn out, we parted ways into the New York City night.