A guide to eating in Tunis

By Yasmin Houamed

Before we get into the juicy stuff, briefly note what's off the menu today.

What this guide is not:

- A repository for objectively 'good food' - this does not exist. Taste is entirely relational (i.e., connected to a memory or a place) and situational (i.e., dependent on the season or our emotional state). Hierarchies of taste are just elitisms of the mouth.

- A sneak peek into the 'authentic' Tunisian cuisine. Authenticity implies that cooking has a natural or stable essence, which has never been the case and tends to lead to exclusionary discourses. Food practices, like social identities and borders, are fluid and ever-changing.

- A romanticization of the Mediterranean diet. What we eat reflects the conditions of the world around us. Some things will taste amazing - e.g., fruit, veg, fish - and we must thank the sun, generous earth, and talented land workers. Other things will be tasteless - e.g., white baguette - and we must remember the legacies of post-WWII 'development' schemes in the Global South, such as the US ‘Food for Peace’ program. Yet other things will be absent - e.g., milk, butter, flour, sugar, eggs, coffee - and we must look to the rupture of these food staples as an enduring failure of poor governance and predatory international loans to ensure any semblance of food sovereignty.

- A nostalgic retelling of multiculturalism. If you're going to Tunisia, you probably know that this land has been marked by a 'mosaic' of migrations - of the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Arabs, Ottomans, Italians, Spanish, Maltese, French and, of course, our North African neighbors. To me, what is much more interesting than glorified images of conquest is how contemporary migratory patterns are still making their mark on the food scene in Tunisia, despite the government's collusion with extreme anti-migrant policies pushed by Europe, whose borders are now entangled with our own. This looks like Ivorian women at the Bousalsla Sunday market selling hibiscus and ginger juices, spice mixes, and Attiéké (fermented cassava pulp) or the Japanese couple behind Bistro Nippon, who first came to Tunisia as cooks in the cantine of a Japanese ceramics factory before opening their restaurant in La Marsa. 'Expat' cafes are exciting sites as well, especially if you need wifi, a well-equipped bathroom, or alternative milk options (Sabato for sablé biscuits, Bleue Deli for Rafram Chaddad curated sandwiches, Les Indécis for fish, and Ben Rahim for coffee)

Thank you for bearing with me. Now, let's move on to some recommendations!

Markets

First, find your local market and buy a kilo of everything that catches your eye. This act accomplishes three things:

(1) it reveals what's in season - take note when ordering out;

(2) it reminds you - if you also live in a place where globalized agribusiness has leached your markets of flavor - of the force of local produce,

(3) it will hopefully compel you to travel outside of Tunis, through small farming towns, to discover where the produce comes from, looking out for obvious clues such as ornately designed roundabout sculptures dedicated to, say, oranges or potatoes or persimmons.

Unique markets to check out:

Marché Central is a living temple worthy of pilgrimage and full of sensory splendor. Beyond the gorgeous shrines of fruit and vegetables, you can also find specialty pantry items, such as fresh olives to preserve at home, handmade pasta, or date molasses.

As stimulating as the market is, I recommend visiting Cafeteria Ben Yedder around the corner before you head in (they also have a toilet). This Djerbian family business is Tunisia's long-standing coffee monopolist. Ask for the Arabica upgrade, a 'Direct' if you want a milky-foamy coffee. You can also add a splash of zhar (orange blossom water), available on the serving counter.

Marché el Halfaouine

The market begins at the foot of a majestic mosque, where you will find a fripe (second-hand clothing market). It threads narrowly until reaching Bab Souika, where you will meet Tiraji, the beloved mascot of Esperance, one of Tunisia's two leading football clubs.

Start or end your visit at Café Sidi Amara in Place Halfaouine, where you can grab a plastic chair by the fountain that rarely runs and order a very bitter coffee, a very sweet tea, or, if you're there in winter, a perfectly tart fresh orange juice. It is an excellent place to consider the importance of public spaces - I always reminisce on when the queer feminist festival Choufthouna transformed this square for a night with femme-centered music and dance.

Marché Sidi el Bahri

From Bab Souika, pass by Fripe Hafsia (there is also a lovely square here to take a breather), and either weave back into the Medina or exit towards Sidi el Bahri, where, if you're lucky, you can find the only vendor in the area selling Bottarga. Bottarga is a delicacy - salted, cured mullet eggs - and the price reflects it. Slice it thinly and pair it with Boukha and a slice of lemon - a Jewish Tunisian brandy made from distilled figs - or shave it onto pasta or anything you want to be blessed with the punchy taste of the sea.

There are also enticing municipal markets in La Marsa and La Goulette (Halk el Wed). The latter market's entryway is adorned with a Carthaginian-style fish mosaic, a sign of what to eat in this historically cosmopolitan fishing neighborhood.

Sit-down Restaurants

If you've lived in Tunis for a while, you might find that the restaurant scene is lacking, but I don't think this is necessarily bad. The modern restaurant, as we know it, is a French, dare I say militaristic, innovation that doesn't quite vibe with Tunisian and, more broadly, 'Arab' hospitality.

Ours is a culture where you regularly prepare extra portions of food, so no last-minute visitors go hungry (A'mel bil wafi / A'mel hsab el ghayeb - cook with spaciousness/count for the absent). The exchange of money for food "breaks the barka (blessing)" of giving, as my friend Sara explains it, taking away pleasure from both parties. While many restaurants in the capital offer similar menus catered towards mainstream tastes, the impressive diversity of Tunisian cuisine is preserved and creatively enriched by women in home kitchens. Do your best to end up there.

That said, many restaurants in Tunis hit the spot, offer a wonderful ambiance, and give a glimpse into Tunisia's regional cuisines. Here, I will present several sit-down restaurants before sharing some standing, "on-the-go" options, which cater more to the working class and specialize in one or two dishes that they do incredibly well.

*The names are as they appear on Google Maps*

In Medina/Hafsia

Enjoy La Medina like a local. Chermiti-mohamed

Restaurant Khayri is one of my personal favorites. Khayri is warm and eccentric; don't be alarmed if he opera sings your order to the kitchen or when he pours a blend of floral waters over your head as you leave. If he's got them, he'll start you off with perfectly brined tiny olives he brings from his hometown of Sfax. His team makes a wonderful bulgur jaria - meaning liquidy, between a soup and a stew; molokhia, a shimmery dark green stew made of ground mallow leaves and lamb, typically prepared for the new year, and much differently than how it is prepared in the Levant; stuffed calamari; mermez bil kabr, which is a sweet and tart oniony tomatoey stew with meatballs and chickpeas; or if you're a natural carnivore you can opt for half a head of lamb or its testicles. Like most restaurants in the Medina, he closes early, around 4:30 pm.

Restaurant Dar Slah - A bright and calm place in the heart of the Medina. The father-daughter duo that runs it are charming and generous hosts. They serve sample platters with a small brik finger (these are called Fatima's fingers, to be exact), a couple of dips like omek houriya (a spiced carrot dip), and slata mechouia (charcoaled pepper salad), as well as homemade torchi (spicy pickled turnips, carrots, and onions) and khobiza (sautéed wild mallow leaves with garlic and preserved lemon), when in season. They also do stuffed artichoke, couscous with fish or octopus, and various nutty puddings for dessert.

Chez Bacem*—My uncle Tarak, a history teacher in the Medina for over thirty years, swears by this place. It's brightly decorated with painted wooden features and a cozy second-floor loft. There are many beldi classics here, a social category denoting the capital's urban elite. One example that feels like stepping back in time is Ain Sbaniourya, a meatloaf with an egg in the middle.

*Bacem is not marked on Google Maps. Look up the business just across—"Cocktails Aam Hssine" on Rue du Tamis, where you can get great fruit juices and smoothies.

عند ولد الحاج (Son of the Haj)—This tiny restaurant is a favorite of my friend Aymen. There are just a few tables inside and a few on the street. It's the kind of place where you ask what's good today, and you order that. They do lovely fish croquettes and stuffed peppers.

*Copy and paste the name in Arabic, and you should find it on Google Maps; otherwise, "Coiffeur Anouar" is just next door*

Restaurant el Abed is a recommendation from food mystic/historian and friend Wajdi Borji, who used to run a street food tour around the Medina and downtown. I have yet to have the chance to go, but he says it's famous for its grilled fish and meat.

In La Goulette

Restaurant Djerbian The House (El Houche) - This is a Djerbian restaurant parallel to the sea serving huge portions of couscous varieties that are hard to find elsewhere. Wzaf (dried anchovies) and Kadid (dried preserved meat) are favorites. Order a glass of lben, fermented milk, with your couscous; it cools the palate and makes sense. They also do a specialty of northwestern Tunisia called Bourzgan, a "white" spring-time couscous made with butter, milk, rosemary, lamb, almonds, and dried fruits. It doesn't compare to what I've had in the mountainous region of El Kef, where the altitude titillates your taste buds - thank you, Amani's mom - but it's still a total delight. They also serve a comforting Tbikha soup with Kadid, a hearty mix of lentils, fava beans, and chickpeas with vegetables.

Neptune / Spigola / Café Vert are all iconic fish restaurants in an iconic neighborhood. You can select the fish you want by hand if that's your style. Get all the accompaniments - soup, salads, fries, and a brik - another must-try: runny egg surrounded by potato, tuna, and herbs in a fried pastry casing. A special dish to look out for is pasta with the head of mannani (grouper fish). Of all the restaurants listed thus far, only these three serve alcohol.

Oiseau Bleu—On that last note, this is a place you go more to have a drink and relax by the sea than for the food itself. They keep the kemia coming, which are Tunisian tapas, often chopped vegetables, olives, olive oil and harissa, and breadsticks. A popular dish to order here is Kamounia, a beef and liver stew with heavy cumin notes, eaten with bread.

L'Aquarius - This new restaurant specializes in dishes from the Kerkennah islands off the east coast of Tunisia in the Gulf of Gabès. My friend Elyes, a cook leading several culinary projects in Tunis, recommended it to me, saying it's modern and "not bad," which I take to be positive.

In La Marsa

The Couscous Tree/ L'arbre à Couscous - This is a couscous buffet, which is a dangerous concept. You can choose between whole wheat, classic, spicy, or my absolute favorite, farfoucha - couscous steamed with fresh fennel fronds. For protein, you can have chicken or beef meatballs, fish koftas, and osban, another preserved delicacy - stuffed casings with rice, herbs, vegetables, and offals. Or, if you're vegetarian, you can pile on the fava beans and steamed vegetables.

El Mida—Boutheina and other friends recommend this place. Standout options here are makrouna arbi, a fatty, delectably anti-al-dente tomatoey pasta with lamb you ideally eat with a spoon, and ojja with spicy merguez sausage, the non-identical twin to shakshouka, which is also Tunisian. They also do koucha alouch, a straightforward, juicy lamb roast with thick pieces of potatoes, tomatoes, and onions.

Iconic Dishes at Standing Restaurants

These are foods for working people on the go. Italy has Pizzaiolos; we have Leblebiolos and Kaftejiolos. There are many experts everywhere, and these are just a few options.

*If you don't do spicy, now is a good time to memorize: "Moush Har" (not spicy) and "Harissa Lé" (no harissa), though I do encourage you to try it as is once or twice - call it an initiation of the bowels.

Leblebi - The O.G. power bowl. Grab a clay bowl and pick your stale bread to pieces like a bird, according to your consistency preferences (food tastes better when you work for it, right?). Once the bowl is filled, approach the leblebi pot, and somebody will serve you a few ladles of scalding chickpea stew and the base toppings - extra cumin (for taste and to prevent gas), harissa, olive oil, a very soft-boiled egg, tuna. Then, depending on the place, you can add even more toppings - capers, preserved lemon, olives, and pickled vegetables. Everything goes. Mix it up with the two spoons provided and share with a friend; you don't have to, though.

If the tuna is not entirely satisfying, level up to Hargma, which is leblebi plus cow trotters cooked for so long that they melt into the stew. It's not overly intense and worth a try.

⇒ Weld el Kommissar (in Bab Souika), Weld el Arbi (in El Kram) and Weld Hanifa (in Medina/ Beb jdid)

S'han Tounsi / Plat Tunisien—These should be the colors of the Tunisian flag. A beautiful assortment of mezze magically fits within a small dish: omek houriya, slata tounsia, slata mechouia, again, the very soft-boiled egg, harissa, tuna, preserved lemon, olives, and peppers, topped with olive oil. Bread is your spoon.

⇒ El Bayari (in Bardo), Weld Ammar (in El Kram)

⇒ Weld el Haj (in La Medina) does s'han tounsi and kefteji in the morning and switches to frikassé, a must-try fried dough mini-sandwich, in the afternoon.

Kafteji is a product of knife wizardry that you must witness for yourself. It consists of fried eggs and vegetables, including onions, garlic, tomatoes, zucchini, aubergine, pumpkin, and, most importantly, a mixture of hot and less-hot peppers. It usually comes with potato fries and, again, your bread spoon. This is a good opportunity to try a Tunisian soda like Boga Cidre, which tastes somewhat like cream soda.

⇒ Douiri - (Marché Central). The same family has run this place since the 1930s. You order next to a window into the kitchen, where you can see the theatrics of this dish come to life. Most of their employees, if not family, have worked with them for decades.

Mlewi

⇒ Weld el Haj (La Medina) - I learned, again from my friend Sara, who does amazingly irreverent research on Tunisian cookbooks and their French "influences," that "feuilletage," or puff pastry, originated from mlewi folding techniques. Mlewi is a flatbread made by folding oil into the dough several times, so after it is cooked, it pulls apart into flakey layers. Its sandwich potential is limitless, but it often comes with tuna, egg, a processed cheese triangle (tastes like childhood), harissa painted on with the back of a spoon, and salad toppings.

⇒ Bar Ezzit (Marsa Safsaf) uses great ingredients: high-quality olive oil, organic eggs, tasty ricotta, and wild honey. Plus, they're always experimenting with something new. For Tunisian standards, it's expensive, but now and again, it's a treat. I enjoy the sweet and savory here: ricotta, soft-boiled egg, honey, and olive oil.

⇒ One-woman show in Sabbat Dziri (known as Little Malta)—I don't know her name, but she makes excellent mlewi out of a small room that opens onto the alley. Not far from Place de la Monnaie, where you can find unique sweets at the very old-school Maltese Pâtisserie Jean Garza, you will find the Sabbat Dziri bakery, one of the oldest bakeries in Tunis. Carry on just a few steps, and the delicious mlewi is on your left.

Drou'/Sôhlob/Sorgho—Gray, gloopy, godliness. Sorghum is an indigenous African grain, and we usually have it in its sweet form in Tunisia. Drou' or Sa7hleb is a silky, filling porridge made from sorghum flour and water or milk. It is cooked meticulously, so it comes out clump-free. Top the drou’ with any combination of honey, dates, ground nuts, dried fruits, ground coconut, or olive oil.

⇒ Beb el Khadra. Known to serve drou' all year round, you can even get a chunk of sweet harissa cake plopped on top for sweetness. Try to hold back your giggles when he expertly mixes up his giant vat of sorghum for each customer - the slopping noise is delightful. *harissa means something ground: the nutty semolina cake widespread across the Arab world also shares this name.

A Note on Sweets:

I think we're too full for dessert today, but I'll leave you with some hints for the not-too-sweet lovers like me:

- Makrouth is excellent as is, but to me, it's better without the syrup, baked instead of fried, and made with barley flour

- First, try kaak warka with your eyes closed—it is an extremely delicate sweet. The almondy inside is accented with the essence of rosehip (mâ nasri), which you only find in the areas around Zaghouan.

- Seek out the textures of sorghum and chickpea flour ghraiba, shortbread-like biscuits. They're sandy and turn to cement in your mouth. For this reason, it might not be your thing, but I love the audacity of sweets designed to crumble instantly in your fingers.

- Zgougou is a pudding made from the ground black seeds of the Aleppo pine. It is a uniquely Tunisian treat like nothing you will have ever tried. It is made especially for Moulid, the prophet's birthday, decorated beautifully in individualized cups, and shared as widely as possible. A charmingly grumpy Italian man in La Marsa makes a lovely zgougou gelato (the business is called Las Palmas).

About the author:

Yasmin is pursuing a Master's in Anthropology of Food at SOAS, University of London. Together with artists Emily Sarsam and Aziza Gorgi, she runs the Tunis-based project BROUDOU (@broudoumagazine), an independent collective, publication, and research platform. Working alongside cooks, growers, and creative practitioners, the collective conducts original research organizes immersive workshops, and hosts culinary experiences inspired by the Tunisian foodscape. Yasmin is also a forever part-time employee at her family's restaurant, El Harissa, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She received her B.A. in Political Science from Stanford University.

A (Sensorial-Political) Guide to Eating in Tunis