Whenever I leave the U.S., I consider packing Grape-Nuts; often I have one or two large boxes in my suitcase until I realize that I am being an idiot and I should bring another sweatshirt or pair of shoes instead. I know, I know, you think Grape-Nuts are hard as rocks and tasteless. You are wrong; they are delicious. And I always anticipate living without them to be sad and depressing. Yet, I generally adapt rather quickly. For instance while walking the Camino in Spain this fall I found it rather easy to adjust to Grape-Nuts less living. I often ate breakfast twice, one breakfast at 6:00 a.m. which usually consisting of some combination of nuts, granola, yogurt and fruit, yum. Then I would want to eat again at 10, generally breakfast numero dos was cafe con leche and a chocolate croissant. In my backpack I would always have almonds, Milka chocolate, fruit, fresh bread and cheese, so that when I wanted to rest I had a perfect little picnic. Then I would eat a large meal either in the late afternoon or early evening upon arriving at the days' destination. This meal would inevitably consist of bread and olive oil on the table along with garlic soup, a salad with olives and tuna, then a meat, maybe escalope or some tasty, tasty fish. And obviously, you need to wash it down with wine, preferably a Spanish red. I do not think there was a day that I did not finish nearly an entire bottle. The amazing thing about walking between 25-35 kilometers a day is that you can really put down an impressive amount of food and alcohol!
The first thing one notices about the food in Tunisia (after you stop crying over the severe lack of Rioja) is Harissa. It is a red spicy sauce mixture, a combination of various chilis, garlic, and oil. It's potent, and reminds me of a spice from Niger called pili-pili, and its stronger version known as pili-pili ha-ha, because when the white people would eat it they would open their mouths, hold up a hand and go "ha-ha," hence "pili-pili-ha-ha." Harissa goes into most dishes. And when buying street food people very nicely ask you how much harissa you want. I generally opt for "shwaya, shwaya" (a little) which can either be a tasty small amount or a lot depending on the food vendor's definition of a little. The most common Tunisian food-snack is a sandwich called bric. It consists of fried thin filo dough, stuffed with vegetables, cheese and eggs. When eating bric, there is generally a game to see who can eat it without getting drippy egg yoke all over his shirt. They are good, but the egg is only partially cooked. And yes, I will eat sun-dried crickets in Niger, but I like my eggs well done. So I prefer the fricasse sandwiches; they are little round things made of fried dough (think beignets) and stuffed with hard-boiled egg, potatoes, some veggies, olives and harissa. People usually eat two of them and you should eat them quickly so as not to see how much oil soaks into the paper that the goodies are wrapped in. Also, take care not to swallow the olive pits!
Another dish that is common and affordable is Lablabi; think of it as a North African ratatouille. Lablabi is basically a stew-type thing made with whatever is in the kitchen topped with olive oil and harissa. Often when you order lablabi in a restaurant, you first wash your hands, then get a chuck of a bread that you tear into small pieces and put in your bowl. Then you bring the bowl up to the counter and tell the cook which of the vegetables you want. There are potatoes, carrots, olives, a mixture of very overly cooked onions and green peppers. Then he adds cooked chickpeas, pours vegetable broth over it, adds harissa and voila-dinner. It's really tasty and even more so if you can manage not to look at it much, since it basically looks like pig slop.
The general main courses are cous-cous based dishes. Cous-cous in North Africa is spicy, as it usually includes harissa. It is prepared in special pan that allow the cous-cous to steam over the meat and vegetable mix that cooks below. The result is a soft, fine cous-cous that has absorbed the flavors of the meats, often fish, lamb or goat, and vegetables. I have only had it a few times, and the best versions (aside from the homemade kinds) are in good restaurants that are a bit more expensive. My favorite was a small, elegant restaurant owned by a Jewish family that serves a lovely mixture of Arab and Jewish North African specialties. It's a popular place and people agree that they have some of the best cous-cous in Tunis. (see attached photos)
Since dining out is not an every day occurrence, my typical diet here is a Mediterranean inspired mixture of Swiss and American style cooking. My roommate Ester and I both love fresh fruits, vegetables, good chocolate, and experimenting in the kitchen. We begin the day with cereals, often a bland corn flake and if you try you can find versions in groceries stores without pounds of sugar. Which is really important to look for since the milk only comes in "so-much-fat-you-might-as-well-melt-a-stick-of-butter-and-pour-it-over-your-cereal" or the healthier "will-still-clog-your-arteries-but-you'll-get-a-few-more-years-of-life-with-this-milk." Along with cereal, some freshly squeezed orange juice and a coffee made in a perfect Bialetti espresso maker. We eat our biggest meal at mid-day, and these meals range from onion, mushroom and cheese risotto, Spanish tortilla, vegetable stews, or spinach, zucchini and eggplant over pasta, and Indian dishes, made more potent with harissa. We always have a delicious fresh salad. Fennel is plentiful, and we've invented a fennel, carrot, onion and parsley salad that is heavenly. Typically we eat something smaller for dinner. We love this cooked spinach salad Ester makes, along with homemade fresh cheese from the market. Last night we made steamed artichokes with a homemade garlic, cheese, and yogurt sauce. Then for dessert, I made fruit salad of dates, oranges and almonds. I toasted and caramelized the almonds, cut up some of juicy blood oranges, along with fresh, soft dates and added lots of cinnamon. Since Ester's parents are here from Switzerland, we are living in the lap of luxury with a fridge full of exquisite Swiss cheeses, fresh prosciutto and copious amounts of Lindt and Toblerone.
I think that food habits, new ways to prepare dishes or cook with different spices are among my favorite souvenirs from traveling. Learning to love someone else's food is a great way to keep the experience of living abroad alive when you return home. I came back from a summer in France with a Camembert addition and loving soup for dinner. I learned to make Spanish tortilla as a student in Madrid and I've been perfecting it ever since. I stopped fearing spice in West Africa and learned that what we call mangoes in the U.S. tastes nothing like the real thing. I've picked up great Indian, Afghan, and Argentinian recipes and cooking strategies from roommates and friends who've learned to cook from their mothers. In Tunisia I've come to appreciate that a simple mixture of good fresh ingredients makes a satisfying meal. The Tunisian cuisine leaves me with the impression that heaven is fruits that taste like the actual sun ripened them, vegetables that seem to have grown in the ground, the smell of thick, Italian espresso, and freshly-squeezed juice made from blood oranges that give the juice the rust color of a perfect summer sunset.
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