Nine years ago, while studying in Paris, I made a group of Parisian friends who became my passport to a travel experience far beyond the landscape of France. Many of the young men in the group came from the “Dix-neuvième”, the 19th Arrondisement of Paris, home to the majority of the city’s North African immigrants. Some of the guys — with musical names like Walid, Ouissem, Mouldi, Anis and Sami — were born in France to parents from Tunisia. I was 22 years old when I met them. Embarrassingly, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever heard of the country before, let alone contemplated going there. Eventually, however, I learned about Tunisia: that its cuisine sounded delicious — savory lamb dishes,…
