Tunisian cooking sits where Berber, Ottoman, Andalusian and Italian kitchens overlap — harissa in everything, brik pastry folded around a runny egg, fish grilled within sight of the boats. Three days of markets, dar restaurants and street stalls.
The 1891 covered market off Rue Charles de Gaulle: harissa mounded into red pyramids, salted kaddid beef, mechouia peppers, olives by the kilo and a wet fish hall at the back. Traders open around 06:00 and wind down by 14:00.
A 1970s bistro on Rue Pierre de Coubertin doing French-Tunisian cooking: brik à l'oeuf, grilled loup de mer, ojja with merguez. Small dining room, white tablecloths, packed with ministry staff at 12:30. Closed Sunday.
The medina's herb and spice lane behind the Zaytouna: tabil (coriander-caraway-garlic blend), ras el hanout, dried rosebuds, orange-blossom and geranium distillates sold from glass demijohns. Shops shut for Friday prayers.
Above a 17th-century marabout tomb in Souk Ettrouk, with reed mats, low benches and columns from Roman Carthage. Order thé aux pins — sweet green tea buried under toasted pine nuts — or Turkish coffee with orange-blossom.
A restored 18th-century townhouse on Rue du Pacha runs half-day classes: shopping in the nearby souk, then folding malsouka pastry for brik and steaming couscous over a traditional kouskoussi pot. Ends with lunch on the terrace.
Tunis's grandest dar restaurant, behind a lemon-yellow studded door near the kasbah: a tiled courtyard under a retractable roof, serving couscous bel osbane, tajine malsouka and mermez lamb. Jacket-and-tie formality at dinner.
The Sfax dynasty's Tunis branch sells baklawa by weight alongside Tunisian specifics: makroudh (semolina diamonds stuffed with date paste and soaked in honey), kaak warka rings and samsa with sesame and rosewater.
A three-storey townhouse on Rue Jamaa Ezzitouna with a rooftop looking straight onto the minaret. Kitchen does mechouia salad, kafteji and grilled merguez; the terrace is the medina's best perch for the sunset call to prayer.
The working-class square north of the medina is where Tunis eats lablabi: torn day-old bread drowned in chickpea broth with harissa, cumin, tuna and a poached egg, stirred at your table. Fricassé sandwiches fry alongside.
On the fish-restaurant strip of Avenue Franklin Roosevelt, a survivor of La Goulette's Sicilian-Jewish era. Order daurade or rouget grilled plain with tastira, plus complet poisson — the local set-up of salad, brik and fish.
At the foot of the village's main stairway, a single fryer turns out bambalouni: a ring of yeasted dough dropped into hot oil, drained and buried in granulated sugar. Handed over on paper, eaten standing, no other menu item.
A licensed terrace on Avenue Taïeb Mhiri where Tunis actually drinks: Celtia lager, Magon and Mornag reds from Cap Bon vineyards, and boukha — the fig eau-de-vie distilled by Tunisian Jewish families since the 1880s.