Tunisian

This spiced chili paste adds life to slow-roasted salmon, eggplant parm, one-pan chicken, and more.

A colorful and spicy (but not fiery!) side breaks up all the heavy, rich dishes on the table.

Shakshuka is Tunisian in origin but has become hugely popular in Jerusalem and all over Israel as substantial breakfast or lunch fare. Tunisian cuisine has a passionate love affair with eggs and this particular version of shakshuka is the seasonal variant for the summer and early autumn. Potatoes are used during the winter and eggplants in spring. Having published recipes for shakshuka once or twice before, we are well aware of the risk of repeating ourselves. Still, we are happy to add another version of this splendid dish, seeing how popular it is and how convenient it is to prepare. This time the focus is on tomato and spice. But we encourage you to play around with different ingredients and adjust the amount of heat to your taste. Serve with good white bread and nothing else.

In North Africa (and Marseille!) mint tea is generally drunk enormously sweet—the kind of sweetness that makes you a bit thirsty—which is exactly how I like it. Start with 1/4 cup of sugar and add more if you want it sweeter. To avoid any bitterness, do not let the tea boil once the mint has been added. For an earthy, Tunisian touch, dry roast a handful of pine nuts and drop them in the glass just before serving.

This recipe is part of the Epicurious Online Cooking School, in partnership with the Culinary Institute of America. To watch it being made, and to learn how to make other Mediterranean classics, check out the video classes.

This dish was inspired by a trip to Tunisia a few years ago. I fell in love with the Tunisian cooks’ use of spices and the bowls of harissa served with every meal. What surprised me most was the use of caraway, which I had always thought of as an Eastern European spice. For this Tunisian-flavored stew, I season the lamb shoulder overnight with caraway, coriander, chiles, cayenne, and paprika, and then braise it in an aromatic broth with cinnamon and allspice. For a traditional braise I usually deglaze with wine, but in keeping with Muslim prohibitions common in Tunisia, I refrain and substitute lemon juice, which also adds a bright, acidic note to the stew.

This Mediterranean-inspired dish not only is light and healthy, but also has depth of flavor with a contrast of textures and temperatures. Most home cooks tell me they’re intimidated by cooking fish with skin on; they find it tears or doesn’t crisp up as it should. There are two keys to success: one is patience and the other is a well-seasoned cast-iron pan, preferably one that has gone through generations of use. The second alternative is to cheat and use a nonstick frying pan.

When Alexander Zbirou came to France from Tunisia in 1966 to study marketing, there were few good kosher restaurants in Paris. In 1976, he opened a French restaurant, called Au Rendezvous/La Maison du Couscous, in the Eighth Arrondissement near the Champs-Élysées. Four years later, he turned it into a kosher Tunisian restaurant, the only one of its kind in the quarter. Today, there are more than thirty-eight in the Eighth Arrondisement. “I saw Jews arriving in the quarter,” he told me over lunch at his restaurant. “They came, and I was waiting for them. It was home cooking for Tunisians and Ashkenazim. After all, there are lots of mixed marriages here in France.” In 1988, his mother, Jeanne Zbirou, immigrated to Paris, and is now directing the cooking in the kitchen. Well into her eighties, she comes to the restaurant every day to work with her son. His restaurant, although technically kosher, does not close on Friday night or Saturday. “I feel that we are rendering a service to kosher clientele, to give them a kosher meal for the Sabbath,” he said. Other restaurants, under the supervision of the Parisian rabbinical authority, the Beth Din, are either closed for the Sabbath or open only to customers who pay in advance. Sitting down at the restaurant, we were first served an array of kemia, similar to the ubiquitous mezze at Arab restaurants. We began with flaky brik, filled with potatoes, parsley, and hard-boiled eggs (see page 30). At least a dozen salads followed, served on tiny plates, all brimming with bold colors and flavors. Some of my favorites were raw artichoke slivers with harissa, oil, and onions; turnips with bitter orange; and this delicious carrot salad with harissa and caraway seeds. When I asked how much salt they used to cook the carrots, Jeanne said, “Enough salt to make a raw egg rise in water.” In my own kitchen, I prefer roasting the carrots, because it brings out the sweetness of the vegetable.

This very popular Tunisian soup is eaten for breakfast. In poor families it serves as a meal during the day. Little cafés in popular areas serve it in the morning to people going off to work.

I call this herb and spice rub North African because, besides the classic oregano and rosemary, it contains Tunisian and Moroccan spices such as caraway, cumin, and turmeric. In addition, it is spiked with harissa, the ubiquitous hot pepper paste that is to Arab North Africa what chile oil is to Asia. Use the same spice mixture to rub poultry, beef, or pork two to three hours before grilling and leave at room temperature. Or you can mix 3 tablespoons of this rub with 3 tablespoons yogurt and baste chicken breasts or legs or skewered lamb and pork before grilling. Better yet, leave in the spicy yogurt marinade in the refrigerator overnight.

Brik The old joke is that brik turns into a brick if the pastry (in Tunisia, malsuqa) is not thin enough. We found spring-roll wrappers had just what the dish required — they are delicate but sturdy enough for the eggy stuffing.

Fish from the Mediterranean waters is put to a variety of uses in Tunisian cuisine, and a simple soup such as this one of the most common. It's flavored with an appealing blend of herbs, spices and citrus.

Active time: 1 1/2 hr Start to finish: 3 1/2 hr This recipe, which accompanied our 1954 article on Tunisia, called for what were then two very exotic ingredients. One, the granular pasta called couscous, is now commonplace in supermarkets across America. The other, dried rose petals, is available by mail order.