The Joy of Eating Seasonally
Mongia, a family friend, holds a terracotta vessel in her hands that seems to come from nowhere. It is filled with with charcoal and the twigs of olive branches, which a woman piles up on her doorstep in anticipation of baking bread. A hint of light and the fire starts to catch. Mongia cautiously unfolds a cloth. Enclosed within it is a mix of dry plants, spices, rocks and crushed crystals. With a quick, precise movement she lays down a part of it in the burning hearth. Above the smoke cloud I observe her mumbling words, turning her hands in the air in two or three movements before seizing the kettle and placing some mint inside.
The ritual is about to finish, the bad energy and the black eye have now been pushed away, the preparation of the tea can start.This small ceremony takes place in Bir Bouregba, a little town of Tunisia that my sister Sofia has chosen to call home. For those who have grown up in the North African culture, this ritual is nothing new or folkloric. It is the reflection of a strong heritage that melds spirituality and food. Each day the act of cooking, as well as eating, is honoured through symbolic practices. For instance, if someone passes away, their family will not cook for few days and even more will avoid making bread. During the celebration of the Berber new year, we avoid consuming wet foods in order to beckon rain and repel the drought in the upcoming year.
There are even more when it comes to the religious customs practiced in Judaism and Islam around the country. Since childhood I have always been surrounded by this superstitious food world. Born in Paris and raised by my Algerian parents, for as long as I can remember my daily culinary experiences have always been influenced by customs, sacred food, fables and legends from around the table. Orchestrated meals, ritual fasts, magic. It is crazy how many years you might need to finally take notice of your own culture’s culinary heritage. When I was young I was invited for dinner at friends’ places, I could naturally see that the food “rituals” corresponded to a very different rhythm that in my family. For a very long time I was not able to see the beauty of the heritage I was given.
