Sunshine on a Plate: How My Tunisian Diet Kept the Blues Away.
Food News
Life in Tunisia revolved around the seasons, and with each change came a shift in our culinary landscape. Spring brought an abundance of legumes like chickpeas and lentils, simmered in fragrant stews. Summer was a festival of fruits – melons dripping with sweetness, sun-kissed peaches, and plump, juicy figs. Even in the cooler months, our meals remained vibrant, with hearty root vegetables like carrots and turnips taking center stage.
But there was another fiery element that danced on our taste buds – dried chili peppers. These little suns, imbued with the heat of the desert, added a vibrant kick to our stews and sauces. And then there was Harissa, the ultimate pepper dip, a fiery cousin to the likes of sambal oelek. Made with a fiery blend of dried chilies, garlic, and a symphony of spices, Harissa was a condiment that could transform any dish. A dollop on couscous, a swirl into a bowl of soup, or simply enjoyed with warm bread – Harissa was a flavor explosion that added depth and a touch of heat to our meals.
Fish, glistening with freshness from the nearby Mediterranean, was a regular feature on our table. It wasn't just about taste; it was a source of those precious omega-3 fatty acids researchers say are linked to a sunnier disposition. Alongside the fish, a riot of colorful vegetables adorned our plates. Tomatoes, plump and juicy, sun-ripened peppers, and leafy greens, all bursting with vitamins and minerals, nourished our bodies and souls.
Life in Tunisia revolved around the seasons, and with each change came a shift in our culinary landscape. Spring brought an abundance of legumes like chickpeas and lentils, simmered in fragrant stews. Summer was a festival of fruits – melons dripping with sweetness, sun-kissed peaches, and plump, juicy figs. Even in the cooler months, our meals remained vibrant, with hearty root vegetables like carrots and turnips taking center stage.
Every morning began with the warm, yeasty scent of bread wafting from the communal oven. This wasn't your average supermarket loaf; it was a labor of love, made with organic wheat grown under the watchful gaze of the Tunisian sun. Drizzled with the golden olive groves – the robust, extra virgin olive oil – each bite was a burst of earthy goodness.
Looking back, I realize just how limited our access to processed foods was. Organic, wasn't a label, it was simply the way things were. The food we ate was a direct connection to the land, the sunshine, and the rhythm of nature. It turns out, this wasn't just about taste; it was a lifestyle that, researchers now say, can help keep depression at bay.
Mtabga : a stuffed flatbread with tomatos pepper and Harrisa Tabouna bread with extra virgin olive oil and honey
Today, even though I live far from the shores of Tunisia, I carry the essence of that Mediterranean diet with me. It's more than just a way of eating; it's a reminder of the simple joys in life, the connection to nature, and the power of good food to nourish not just our bodies, but also our minds and spirits. It's a reminder that sunshine on a plate, with a touch of fiery spice, can truly brighten your day.
