Aug 14, 2015
chakchouka breakfast
The souk is crowded and enveloped in scents of roasted sweet peppers and toasted cumin. My friend Nizar and I take a seat at a table outside a buzzing eatery. Right next to us is an old man wearing a turban selling dried chillies, a mountain of them, red and crushed and spread out on the bare floor in front of him. It is summer 2004 and this is the setting, on a late tranquil morning in Kairouan,…
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