Sabrina Ghayour on the beauty of feasting

In an Iranian household her childhood became a celebration of amazing food whose exciting simplicity informs the concoctions in her cookbook, ‘Feasts’

The bestselling author’s latest dishes nod to a range of influences, with a generous sprinkling of Shiraz and Isfahan (Kris Kirkham)

As a child, growing up in a Persian household means endless parties, which we call mehmooni. My family regularly played host, and we would frequently attend big family gatherings, both indoors and outdoors.

Those parties, and the feasts we shared at them, became a huge and influential part of my childhood. The overwhelming noise of people animatedly greeting one another as they embraced, and the loud infectious laughter and warmth that were shared are things I will never forget.

I am so grateful to have been part of something that I now treasure as a golden era in my life.

Sabrina Ghayour’s third book is all about sharing food with big plates and big meals ( (Kris Kirkham)

I remember arriving at parties and being immediately seduced by the exotic smells that filled the house. I would watch platter after platter of elaborately presented dishes emerge from the kitchen, being carried carefully to the table.

Once laid out, they would form part of an enormous, colourful spread that would soon be descended upon by dozens of people at once, yet seemed never-ending in supply. When you are a kid at only about table height, you have a major advantage over everyone else – sneaking away little bites before the grown-ups were ready to eat was not terribly uncommon in my case.

Feasting plays an important role not only in Persian culture but also in that of the entire Middle East. In ancient terms, what was served and how many exotic dishes and ingredients were offered might have sealed the fate of an entire empire!

Feasts have always played an important role in the history of empires across the globe, and the breaking of bread and sharing of meals have long played a part in uniting cultures, communities and families by bringing people together in a convivial and uninhibited way, where all differences can be left aside at the table.

Today, time plays a key factor in whether or not we entertain and we don’t seem to entertain as often as we used to – life seems to get in the way.

I thought carefully about the types of recipes I wanted to share in my cookbook, Feasts. Its chapters are dedicated to creating meals that are conducive to the way we live our lives.

Out-of-the-pan frittata (Kris Kirkham)

As is the case in my previous books, the recipes I offer are straightforward and, for the most part, not too labour-intensive (and, in some cases, really quite easy to make) but deliver big in the flavour stakes, even if they contain only a handful of ingredients. It seems the older I get, the more I crave simplicity over refinement and fuss. Many are now very familiar with the Middle East and its abundance of flavour, colour and ingredients. While my recipes are very much my own creations and the kind of food I like to eat at home, they remain heavily inspired by my travels and all the wonderful produce and ingredients from around the world. There will always be plenty of Persian flavour inspiration to help you create a feast that is perfect for your table, no matter what the occasion may be.

The recipes in Feasts may be new but my ethos remains the same – no ingredient is truly ever essential (unless you are baking, when sometimes science takes precedence over creativity) and there is always room to chop and change ingredients and use what you have or what you can get hold of. In most cases, missing an ingredient won’t affect the flavour or nature of a dish, so don’t be afraid to skip or substitute an ingredient here or there. So many people are afraid to deviate from a recipe for fear of failure, but I can assure you that I myself am not the type of cook who sticks to a recipe 100 per cent of the time, and generally it works, so don’t be afraid to go off-piste.

Extract from Sabrina Ghayour's Feasts. Published by Mitchell Beazley, £20