In early 20th-century Jewish-Tunisian cuisine, meals are not divided into starter-main-dessert but unfold around a large shared dish placed at the center — couscous, a slow-cooked pot — surrounded by small spicy preparations (harissa, cooked salads) and ending with fried sweets scented with orange blossom water. Friday evening and holidays structure the year: the family eats together, elbow to elbow, talking loudly. Street food (fricassé, brik) belongs to the city, to Tunis and the port.

Harissa — a paste of dried chilies, garlic, caraway and coriander in olive oil — is the red, burning soul of the entire Tunisian table, both Jewish and Muslim. A spoonful is placed in each plate. Tabil, a mixture of dried garlic, coriander, caraway and chili, flavors the stews. It is this Mediterranean, spicy signature that Gisèle Halimi kept all her life far from Tunis.