‘The Evin Prison Bakers’ Club’: Surviving Islamic Repression, One Recipe At a Time

The word “Evin” sparks terror in me. It’s the name of the Islamic Republic’s most notorious prison. When I lived in Tehran, the capital city of Iran, for a few years after the Islamic Revolution, it was the default destination for the slightest infraction. In my case, those infractions would have been listening to music, having my hair peeking out from my scarf, wearing nail polish and makeup—no matter how faint, or clothes that were too tight or too colorful—even if they were under my manteau.

A month before I left Iran, a female group of Revolutionary Guards nearly took me to Evin. They were patrolling the streets for girls like me—those who looked even slightly noncompliant. They spotted my Top of the Pops-inspired makeup from across the boulevard and made a beeline for me. I got back to our house before they caught up to me, but they came into our home looking for me. They didn’t take me to Evin, but the threat of it became very real. I didn’t leave our house for my remaining time in Iran. That was almost 40 years ago, but the fear has never left me.

So, when The Evin Prison Bakers’ Club: Surviving Iran’s Most Notorious Prisons in 16 Recipes came to my attention, I felt uneasy—but also curious. This collection of vignettes is not the first book that describes life in the Islamic Republic’s prisons. But it’s the first to include recipes of sweet dishes tailored to the tastes of specific prisoners.

Written by outspoken human rights activist Sepideh Gholian (30), the stories she tells and recipes she shares are from her firsthand experiences in various prisons of the Islamic Republic since 2018. She served a four-year sentence beginning in 2019 and upon her release, she denounced the Supreme Leader of the Islamic Republic, Ali Khamenei. They imprisoned her again in 2023. Guards have repeatedly tortured, beaten and sexually harassed her during her time in prison.

The collaborative news site Iran Wire published Gholian’s first prison memoir, Tilapia Sucks the Blood of Hur al-Azim, in 2020. It gives personal accounts of women’s lives inside the Islamic Republic’s prisons. London-based journalist and filmmaker Maziar Bahari, who himself was imprisoned by the regime, founded Iran Wire in 2013. His 2009 memoir Then They Came For Me was adapted into the 2014 film Rosewater. Bahari played a key role in assembling The Evin Prison Bakers’ Club working from text messages, photos of scraps of paper and the help of her family. He has also penned to book’s introduction.

Although The Evin Prison Bakers’ Club includes 16 recipes to satisfy even the sweetest tooth, it is, at heart, a memoir of Gholian’s fellow women prisoners. These recipes offered fleeting moments of joy to women whose stories of harsh treatment, solitary confinement, and impossible choices (including a harrowing self-induced abortion) are, to put it mildly, difficult to read. She dedicates each recipe to a woman, some of them perished or killed in prison, others still imprisoned. Some recognizable names among these are 2023 Nobel Peace Prizer winner Narges Mohammadi (pumpkin pie), British-Iranian journalist Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe (scones) and long-term political prisoner Maryam Akbari Monfared (apple pie).

The most powerful takeaway from The Evin Prison Bakers’ Club is how these women supported one another—emotionally, physically, and spiritually—through unimaginable suffering. The book is a memorial to them and the deep bonds they forged in prison. It’s a testament to support, solidarity and sisterhood.

And yet, after turning the final page, my terror of the Islamic Republic’s prisons has only intensified. What Gholian describes is so much more inhumane, desperate and frightening than I could have imagined.

The resilience of these women is remarkable. Their refusal to be broken, even under extreme pressure, is what makes them so threatening to the Islamic Republic. It’s no surprise that Iranian women terrify the regime. And no wonder the slogan “Woman, Life, Freedom” continues to strike a nerve.