The Sacred Habit of Gifting Sweets

Safouane Ben Haj Ali
Sep 29
1 min read

Updated: Oct 6

Plate of assorted Tunisian sweets and pastries with almonds, pistachios, and honey, arranged neatly on a white dish with gold trim.

Step into any Tunisian city, and you’ll notice them. Bright pastry shops lined with glass counters, trays of almond sweets stacked neatly, boxes wrapped with care. From the street, they look less like bakeries and more like jewelry boutiques; glowing, precise, irresistible.

What you might not realize at first is that these shops are part of something deeper. In Tunisia, when you visit someone, you almost always bring a box of sweets. It’s not planned, not forced. It’s simply what you do. The gesture is so natural it feels subconscious, a habit carried across generations.

At weddings, Eid mornings, or a casual afternoon tea, the box of sweets is always there. Placed on the table, opened with care, shared with everyone. It’s more than dessert. It’s a sign of respect, of presence, of saying: this visit matters.

For Tunisians, this is not luxury, it is continuity. Pastry shops are woven into the rhythm of life. Children grow up watching their parents stop for sweets before a visit. One day, they find themselves doing the same.

What arrives in the home is not just a box. It is sweetness offered with dignity, a gesture so deeply rooted that no outside habit could ever replace it.