Shakshuka is one of the world’s simplest yet most misunderstood dishes. Before it became a global brunch favorite, it was a slow-cooked Tunisian classic made with olive oil, peppers, and harissa. This guide traces its origins, meaning, authentic recipe, and how it evolved from home kitchens to café menus worldwide.

Beyond its beaches, Djerba reveals a living system shaped by faith, craft, and cooperation. This cultural guide explores how Tunisia’s island heart balanced scarcity, coexistence, and design — and why its wisdom still matters today.

Tunisia’s design heritage is a living system of intelligence. From Sejnane’s clay kilns to Kairouan’s woven patterns, every object balances function and beauty. This quiet precision — shaped by climate, craft, and care — shows how sustainability can feel natural, not declared. My Chakchouka protects this rhythm by building fair systems that let craft, culture, and dignity circulate between those who make and those who live with what is made.

Across Tunisia, women artisans shape clay, share kilns, and keep tradition alive — holding communities together through every handmade piece.

In workshops like this, utility becomes its own language. Each curve, handle, and surface is shaped for purpose, not display. To notice it is to recognize yourself in what endures.

In Tunisia, abortion is not a debate. It’s part of how the country was built; a system of trust that has quietly functioned for fifty years. Here, fairness lives in structure, not slogans; choice is handled with order, not noise.

It started in a kitchen in Tunis — olive oil on the table, clay cups that didn’t match. My Chakchouka grew from that simplicity into a fair system connecting Tunisia’s craft, care, and rhythm with the world.

Spring and autumn reveal Tunisia’s quiet magic; jasmine-scented courtyards, warm seas, and golden evenings. For travelers from the US or Canada, these “sweet seasons” offer balance: sun without intensity, beauty without crowds, and the kind of calm rhythm