As I mentioned earlier, Rachel had learned her fondness for North African cuisine, especially couscous, at a specific restaurant, almost fifteen years ago, when she was studying in Marseille as an undergrad.
She had given me a list of recommendations for places to visit while I was in the city, and one of them was her definitive example of The Couscous restaurant, a place called Sur Le Pouce, which I couldn't resist prioritizing during my short stay.
So on Wednesday night I walked there from my place -- I have chosen such a central location for my various accommodations this trip that I haven't even really used the transit systems much, honestly.
Sur Le Pouce is a French expression that literally translates as "on the thumb" but that we would, in English, equate to "on the go" or "on the run." Intriguing because it was a restaurant that felt settled, comfortable in the city.
It looked eternal. you know those restaurants that seem to be older than the buildings around them? A fixture, like a hill. Just . . . always present.
It was quiet, and like so many comfort-food places in the modern era, seemed to be balancing its quiet sit-down business with a quantity of takeaway orders.
When I arrived, around 19:00 (I know! Quite early for a French dinner, but it aligns with a late lunch for my coworkers back home), the place was mostly empty, the two late middle aged Tunisian-French men who ran the place were happy to show me to a table, and brought me a basket of bread and a plate of one of the best (and spiciest) dipping sauces I've ever had.
It was really good and I appreciate that the spice slowed me down just enough to keep me from absentmindedly eating all the delicious bread and ruining my appetite.
Instead I focused on the essay about the impact of Large Language Models on culture by Kyle Kingsbury that I'm reading right now (it's excellent).
. . . And sending pictures of my dinner to Rachel, so she could be jealous/live vicariously through me
And then my food arrived, and it was perfect.
But also, I was eating it wrong:
It was so, so good. The merguez was perfectly seasoned, the steak exquisite. The couscous and sauce perfect together.
The whole meal was heavenly. If you ever have the chance to return to someone else's favorite restaurant from a city from their youth: 10/10, recommend.
Afterwards I was absolutely stuffed, so I strolled through town to stretch my legs a bit, and there was some sort of fancy party happening on a tall ship in the old port. It made for a very picturesque final shot of the evening.
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