Hello!
This is the Sofragol farm.
Fasten your seatbelts. Here begins the journey of memories.
Golpayegan, a cozy little home far from the noise and bustle, with a green window facing silence — the birthplace of Sofragol.
A city whose sun rises every day with purity and invites every passerby to take a deep breath.
This is the place where, when the view of its mountains watches the sky from behind the clouds, everything resembles postcards and the imaginary scenes behind the eyelids of dreamers.
Sofragol, the young child of this fairy-tale-like little home, under the loving care of its dear and precious founder, became a light of hope aimed at eternalizing the nature of Golpayegan, shining on sun-kissed faces and hardworking hands.
So that now, if Golpayegan wakes up to a snowy morning on the first of Dey (December 22), Sofragol is the freshly brewed tea from the coal samovar of its home, enchanted by the scent of cardamom and the color of saffron.
Golpayegan is the kind grandmother of the story, and Sofragol is the sweet dried apricots in her pockets — the kind that melt in your mouth.
Or if Golpayegan is the hardworking farmer in our tale, Sofragol is the fruit of his heart; the product of a boundless love that bears the trees’ fruits.
And the love we send as a gift to your homes, to warm your winters with the steam of herbal tea and sweeten your taste buds with honey and jam.
We even become like the bowl of nuts — the spice of your conversations and compliments.
Not ourselves,
but we make our love a permanent guest at your tables.
From the very first meeting of Mr. Sofra and Mrs. Gol, we all understood this story has a long path ahead and will be a special guest in your homes for a long, long time.
One could say those two are like many of you.
Sometimes they hurt each other,
sometimes they melt like sugar inside each other's hearts,
sometimes a safe haven,
sometimes pure tension —
and these ups and downs seal their moments with lasting memories.
Behind every green product in your story, Mr. Sofra and Mrs. Gol tell you the tale of life and offer authenticity to your hands.
In short, this is one of those stories where our crow may reach its home, but it will never reach the end.
That’s the essence of joyful stories — they sing love forever.
