Une Bon Birthday

DSC_9794A friend recently lent me the memoir of Lynsey Addario:  It’s What I Do, A Photographer’s Life of Love and War.  Lynsey was a war photojournalist in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Libya, where she was famously kidnapped and eventually released.  Most of the book recounts shoots in intensely hot combat zones where she frequently risked her life to get the photos she posted back to American newspapers, at the end of the day.

She wrote about one conversation, though, that she had with an editor from National Geographic.  He presented Lynsey with a different type of challenge.  This editor advised her “Don’t shoot this story like a New York Times story.  Take your time with it; get into it.  Use the time you have to explore.” (Addario, 2015, pg. 271)  She found this imperative a little frustrating because it meant retraining herself to shoot with “time and patience” which was not her typical style.

I have reflected, lately, that those of us who live in another country for an extended amount of time also have this luxury of time, but also a challenge to tell about our experiences slowly, one small layer at a time.  Sometimes I feel like I am doing that, but there have been gaps of time when I have stopped exploring and noticing and have retreated back to merely living my life in the context of another country without truly being part of it.

For my birthday, Allan took me to the most northern tip of the Cap Bon Peninsula, El-Haouaria,  somewhere we have intended to go since we moved here.  This little village can see some tourist action at the height of summer, but we had the privilege to visit it at the end of winter, something few non-residents experience.

Our splendid inn, Dar Enesma, was cozied up with a fire in the main room and gentle radiator heat in the stylishly designed rooms.  We quickly got onto the rhythm of village life through the sounds of the sea, free-ranging roosters and sheep, and the prayer calls from the tiny mosque.


DSC_9927For once, I got myself out early enough in the morning to take photos in the day’s best light.  Down at the port, some of the fishermen were selling what they had already caught, while others were just gearing up to head out.



DSC_9825 The best surprise of this visit, however, was this outstanding Italian restaurant, Bellariva.  We were the only customers on Saturday night.  Business is slow in winter,  but from the second we entered, we knew we were going to have a special meal.  There was no menu.  The owner, Dalla Lina, suggested we first have a plate of  house-made tagliatelle with a deep, rich porcini mushroom sauce.  This was followed by a plate of her ravioli, stuffed with spinach and ricotta and topped with a tangy, fresh tomato and basil sauce.  Finally, we had a plate of her long-braised rabbit, served with its own pan sauce of melted vegetables with soy-like richness.  Dalla, married to a Tunisian man for 20 years, loves her seaside home and cooking for her traditional Italian restaurant, based on the local market ingredients.  But whenever she yearns for bella Italia, she just hops on the flight to Milan and is back in 1 hour.

BellarivaAsk the owner of Dar Enesma, Sonia Ouedder, to make a reservation at Bellariva for you.  This will also ensure that it is open.

One-Bundt Dinner

Roast Chicken, Ingredients, 2This post is showing so much skin it could be censored.  What I want to show you, though,  is a new cooking hack I read about in Saveur magazine that I now use all of the time. First, go to your pantry and dig out your bundt pan.  Hey, it’s not a bad pan, is it?  It’s made of pretty high grade aluminum so your cakes don’t burn.  Cover the center hole with a strip of aluminum foil, and place the bundt pan on top of a sheet pan.

Fill the base of the bundt pan with a layer of something starchy like sliced potatoes or pre-soaked beans, like my cranberry beans.  Next, add a layer of chopped vegetables.  I used diced pumpkin, but you could use fennel, zucchini or even sturdy greens.  The top layer will be sliced onions and maybe chopped garlic, along with some herbs or spices.

Take a whole chicken and rub it all over, and under the skin, with softened butter mixed with anything else you want to infuse it with.  I often use harissa in my cooking, but you could use something else or just stick with butter, salt, and pepper.

Now, prop the chicken up on the center tube of the bundt pan.  It’s weird; I know.  It’s kind of like that old beer can chicken that some grillers are fond of making.   Make sure the chicken has a good, solid center of gravity because as it cooks, it will soften and you don’t want it to fall over or off.

Add water to the base of the pan, at least enough to cover the starch element.  Place the entire set up, carefully, in a 400 degree oven and cook for 1 to 1 1/2 hours.  If the chicken starts to get too brown, but the beans and vegetables aren’t thoroughly cooked, yet, just cover the chicken part with some foil.  The same can be done if the onions start to get too brown before the other vegetables and chicken are cooked.  What is going to happen, though, is that the chicken fat and juices are going to drip, drip, drip into the base, soaking those ingredients with… well, schmaltz.  You know that umami secret of Jewish mothers?  In the end, you will get both a delicious braise and a crispy roasted bird, two in one.

Serve the dish right from the oven, if you like,  or else swathe the top of the dish in aluminum foil and put it in the refrigerator over night.  The next day, you can skim off some of the fat, then serve the vegetables and roasted bird plated and reheated.

Harissa ChickenWhy is it so radio-actively orange, you ask?  This orange took on a life of its own.  I did rub the chicken down with harissa, but placing it next to the pumpkin caused both of them to trend toward the electric side of the color spectrum.  I’m just going with it, though when I look at this photo, all I can think of is the Seinfeld clip The Butter Shave.  I’ll bet it was ringing a bell for you, too.

Springtime in Tunis

Shy DaffodilsWell, it’s right on the verge, at least.  These daffs are literally peeping out.  One of the delightful things about renting a grandma’s house, this year, is discovering what she has been tucking into her garden for decades.  We just finished with the miniature jonquils.  Now, we have full blown daffodils and flowering apricot trees.DSC_9671Before we head into a new produce season, though,  it is a good time to look at using up food that I preserved last summer and fall.  It is one thing to get enthusiastic about canning and freezing during an abundant season.  The second part of that act, however, is creatively using that product, later on.  When I talk with Gabe each week, I often ask him what he has been cooking and if he is using up his food stores.  Sometimes, I note a tinge of irritation in his voice.  I know that it takes some more intentionality to use the food you have tucked away, especially if it is starting to sound a little repetitive.  But I also don’t want to spend my cooking days next summer trying to use up preserved food from last summer.  I want him to chow it down, now.

I put away this giant jar of kohlrabi kimchi last November.  You can see the fiery chili paste sediment waiting at the bottom of the jar.  We aren’t that excited about a side of kimchi with our meals, at the moment, but this recipe takes the heat and vinegar and crunch and turns it into a base for a different kind of dish.

KimchiKimchi-Braised Chicken
with Bacon

1 Tbsp. olive oil
4 oz. slab bacon, or chorizo, sliced 1/4″ thick, cut crosswise into 1″ pieces
4 lbs chicken pieces
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
8 garlic cloves, lightly crushed
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1 cup dry white wine
2 cups kimchi, with juices, divided
6 oz. pasta
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter


Heat oil in large Dutch oven or skillet over medium and cook bacon or chorizo, turning occasionally, until brown and lightly crisped, 5-8 minutes.  Transfer to a plate.

Season chicken generously with salt and pepper.  Cook, skin side down, in bacon drippings, until skin is very deep golden brown, 12-15 minutes.  Transfer to plate with bacon, placing skin side up.

Add garlic and tomatoes to same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until garlic is lightly browned and tomatoes have burst, about 5 minutes.  Add wine, scraping up browned bits.  Bring to a boil and cook until reduced by three-fourths.

Add half of kimchi and nestle bacon and chicken, skin side up, into tomatoes (make sure chicken skin is above surface f liquid to keep it crispy).  Bring to a simmer and cook, reducing heat if needed, until chicken is tender and cooked through, 45-60 minutes.

Transfer chicken back to plate and bring  braising liquid to a simmer; cook until slightly thickened, 8-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, cook pasta until a dente.  Drain, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking liquid.

Return pasta to pot and add butter and 1/4 cup pasta cooking liquid.  Toss, adding more pasta cooking liquid as needed, until pasta is coated with buttery sauce.  Season with salt and pepper.

Stir remaining kimchi into chicken braising liquid; season with salt and pepper.  Place chicken, skin side up, in braising liquid.  Toss noodles to combine.

Serve chicken and tomato-kimchi sauce over buttery noodles or remove chicken from the bone and shred it, stirring it back into the sauce.


Adapted from
“Kimchi-Braised Chicken with Bacon.” Bon Appetit Feb. 2016: Web. <www.bonappetit.com>.



Winter WheatIf these winter-wheat fields could talk, they would tell you about the night of February 28, 1943.  On this night, the British Armed Forces finally defeated the German army that had tried to occupy Beja 15 days earlier because of its strategic location to the rest of Northern Tunisia and Algeria.

Bunker, 2There are eight British Commonwealth cemeteries dotted around Tunisia and maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.  Cemeteries were erected at the sites of battles, which gives the surrounding fields and olive groves a particularly hallowed feeling.

Cemetery, Wide-Angle When I look at the ages of some of these soldiers, my heart feels unbearable sympathy.  I am sure there are parents who were never able to come to Tunisia to see where their son was laid to rest.  I think what they would have given to trade places with me and experience the peace of this place.

Cemetery and Lake

Headstone, 2




Red Flower




Cemetary I have quoted this before, but it is fitting to post it again, today.  It is from the book Cemeteries and Memories, The Second World War in Tunisia that was a gift from the British Ambassador when we first arrived.  In the forward, Lillian Craig Harris writes,

I dedicate this book to the Tunisian farmers who, motivated by the basic need to feed their families, bravely drove their mules before the plough in the spring of 1943 as battles raged around them. (2007)

Can’t you just picture it?


Harris, Lillian Craig. “Preface.” Cemeteries and Memories: The Second World War in Tunisia. Oxford: Michael Tomkinson, 2007. 5. Print.

Artichokes and Pumpkins

Roadside Goose, 2Allan and I like to get in the car and just drive into the countryside at some time during the weekend.  Destination drives are nice, but it’s really just being out there, seeing Tunisians going about their production, that is so interesting and settling.  We store up episodes of the new season of the Serial podcast and get deeply lost in that strange and fascinating tale while we are driving.

PumpkinsArtichoke Field 2Today, the roadsides, on the road to Raf Raf, were presenting artichokes and pumpkins.  You can see that our pumpkins, here, are not the bright orange Halloween varieties we have in the U.S.  I think these are a French heirloom variety called Fairy Tale.  The connection is that they look like they could be turned into Cinderella’s coach.  They aren’t beautiful to look at, but they are very flavorful, with not too much moisture, and they are durable.  We have whole pumpkins in the markets here year around.

Pumpkin TruckWe brought home some pumpkins, but we worked with the artichokes this afternoon.  Peeling and trimming a good potful, I then braised them.  Braising is a technique where ingredients are sauteed in olive oil until they release some sugars and begin to caramelize.  This works the same for meats and vegetables.  Then, liquid is added, such as water, wine or stock, to cover the ingredient by about 2/3.  The dish is covered with a tight-fitting lid or foil and cooked low and slow.  Whether it goes into the oven or on the stove top, the heat must be low enough that the braise is barely bubbling.  It cooks like this for a couple of hours.  When the ingredients are tender, the lid is removed and the heat turned up a little to reduce the liquid, further tenderizing and additionally caramelizing the braise.

Braised ArtichokesHere is my pot of artichokes before I began the browning process.  I started them with about 2 cups each of chopped carrots, celery, and leeks.  To this I added 3 bay leaves, and 1 teaspoon each of dried tarragon and wild thyme, plus salt and pepper.  The final dish can be served as a sauce over pasta, eaten as a side dish, or pureed into a rich soup.

North African Stew

We had a friend from Athens staying with us for a few days.  He told us that Greeks have a saying for clear and cold days.  They say that the sun has teeth.  People living on the east coast of America might disagree with me right now, but I am not ready for a warming Earth.  I am treasuring these chilly days, with unpredictable weather, and the opportunity to layer my clothing.  I discovered this about myself when I lived in the tropics:  I feel most like myself when the weather dictates layers of clothes.

This  stew suits my desire, at the moment, to melt down wagon loads of vegetables.  We planted some boxes of greens before we left for the winter break and now, mustards and kales are tumbling over the sides.  I love going to the terrace with some shears and a colander to sheer them back.  Then I chop and dissolve an enormous amount into something bubbling on the stove.

Moroccan Stew, 1In this region, we can buy merguez sausages that are made of beef or lamb.  They are just right for this dish.  If you freeze them slightly, it is easy to squeeze tiny meat balls right out of the casings.  Turkey or chicken sausage would work just as well, but I don’t recommend pork which is contrary to North African cooking.

Don’t be put off by the long list of ingredients.  You can just keep dicing and spicing while you do something else.  I recommend listening to the The Book Thief.


4 tablespoons olive oil
2 Spanish onions, chopped
1 large jalapeno pepper, seeded if desired, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger root
1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1.2 teaspoon ground black pepper
Pinch of cayenne
2 tablespoons tomato paste
500 grams (1/2 lb.) beef, lamb, or poultry sausage, bulk or in casings
1 fennel bulb, diced (save fronds for garnish)
1 very large bunch chard, stems sliced 1/2 inch thick,
leaves torn into bite-sized pieces
2 carrots, peeled and diced
1 large turnip, peeled and diced
1 pound dried chickpeas, soaked overnight in
water to cover or quick-soaked (see note)
1/3 cup diced dried apricots
2 tablespoons chopped preserved lemon or regular lemon, rind and all
1/2 cup chopped cilantro

Step 1
Heat oil in large pot over high heat.  Add onion and jalapeno and saute until limp, 3 minutes.  Add garlic, ginger, salt, turmeric, paprika, cinnamon, cumin, black pepper, and cayenne and saute until they release their fragrance, about 2 minutes.  Add tomato paste and saute for another minute, until darkened but not burned.  (If tomato paste looks too dark too quickly, lower hear.)

Step 2
Add sausage and brown in spice mixture.  Add fennel, chard stems, carrot and turnip and continue to saute until vegetables start to soften, about 10 minutes.  Add chickpeas and water to barely cover.

Step 3
Bring to a simmer.  Partly cover pot, lower heat to medium low, and simmer for about 1  1/2 – 2 hours, until chickpeas are softened.  Add more water if needed.

Step 4
Add chard leaves, apricots and preserved lemon to pot and continue simmering until chard is tender, about 5 minutes longer.  Season with more salt if desired and serve garnished with cilantro and reserved fennel fronds.


To quick-soak chickpeas, bring them to a boil in water to cover by 1 inch.  Turn off the heat and let soak for 1 hour.  Drain.


Clark, Melissa. “Moroccan Chickpeas with Chard.” New York Times [New York] n.d.: n. pag. Web. <http://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017228-moroccan-chickpeas-with-chard&gt;.


Burnous Weather

Did you read Under the Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles?  If you know the book, do listen to this hilarious performance that parodies its bizarre story line.  You will pick up the parallel details right away.

But you know how they were always going on about wearing a burnous?  Well, this is what it is.  It is a hooded wool cloak that Berber men wear in North Africa.  A burnous is very practical for sheep herders and others working in the countryside on winter days that alternately shift between bright sun, spitting rain, gusty winds, and lowish temps.  That was today.

Bernouse Red

We collected one of these old garments at a medina in Sousse a couple of years ago.  It  is made of the coarsest sheep wool and has random burn holes and bits of print fabric patches here and there.  It is a coat with a story, and we love it for that.

There were three products going on today:  sheep, fennel (by-the-truckload!), and oranges.  Both sides of the road were stacked with these orange and pink crates, for kilometers.

Orange CratesWe bought one that weighed 21 kilos, close to 50 pounds, and it cost about 25 dinars, which is about 12 dollars.  Allan will juice these for our breakfasts for a couple of weeks, but it won’t take too long to go through them.

Veg Stand  We could have stopped at any number of fruit and vegetable vendors, but this was kind of our last chance, and I was so impressed that the proprietor was willing to trot across the road in said spitting-rain-of-the-moment.  The neat re-purposed water bottles in the background are full of tiny chili peppers.  We bought fennel, carrots, and leeks which all went into this uplifting soup.

Tunisian Winter  Soup

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup chopped leek, white part, only
1/2 cup chopped fennel
2 scant tablespoons finely grated fresh ginger
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
4 cups chopped carrots
4 cups vegetable or chicken broth
1 cup orange juice
1 tablespoon bitter orange or lemon juice
1 can coconut milk (optional)
Freshly ground black pepper, sea salt, and ground chili, and cilantro to taste

Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the leeks, fennel, and carrots.  Sauté until leeks are translucent, about 5 minutes.  Add the ginger and garlic; saute one more minute.   Add the broth and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, until the carrots are tender, about 20 minutes. Remove from the heat and puree with an immersion blender or food processor until very smooth. Return the soup to the saucepan and stir in the stir in orange juice and bitter orange or lemon juice.  Add coconut milk (if using), then adjust seasoning with salt, pepper, ground chili and cilantro.  Reheat and serve.

Serves 4