A simple, and simply delicious, Tunisian fricassee, prepared by the most charming of sandwich assemblers. The fricassee is all about this special bread: a golden, fried roll, a bit spongy, but perfectly sturdy to house a festive mélange of Mediterranean delights: tuna, potatoes, egg, méchouia, olive oil, harissa, salt, an olive for some spunk. To enjoy at a slow stroll, in good company.
My first meal on a recent trip to one of my favorite places on the planet: Tunisia. We were 3 happy diners in an elegant ocean-front dining room with salt-licked windows facing wild winter waves. The waiter presented a platter of whole, raw fish for our selection, and I let my friends, locals, do the choosing. then we sat back and enjoyed sweet and slow jazz music, Tunisian wine, and I savored my first tastes of culinary delights I had waited all of 7 years to enjoy again: heavenly harissa, glorious olives, tuna-stuffed briks with slippery egg yolks. And then, 3 red and grilled fish appeared before me, like a perfect painting. the light, the energy, the music, the company: all transpired for a transcendent first meal, not to be forgotten. . . . All my love to Dorra and Zied. Restaurant La Belle Plage La Corniche, Bizerte, Tunisia
Frou frou, or millet flour beignets, served here with a street-side morning dish of slow-roasted lamb in a green sauce with fried, sweet plantains. This satisfied a breakfast quartet, eaten by hand on the floor of a dusty boutique in Dialakoroba village, south of Bamako.
A meal for the ill (that’s me): rice water for rehydration, and comfort food, my favorite Malian dish, although probably not the most rehabilitating: Toukassou, from Timbuktu. Not much to look at, but she’s got flavor for days: chewy, bready balls slathered in a sauce of 14 spices, usually served with long-simmered beef or lamb (although I refrained, considering my flu-ish condition). Recipe at link above. Eaten underneath a traditional Bogolan blanket.
This happened, thanks to the fabulous Global Living Magazine. Not sure I meet their standard of luxury, but pleased as punch to be in great company nonetheless! My story is at the link above (or click on image below); check out other stories here.
The closest thing we could find to breakfast on the road, discovered at a checkpoint-cum-rest stop of sorts between Bamako and Dialakoroba: hardboiled eggs, and skinny brown paper rolls of salt.