A Tunisian Welcome on a Plate

In Tunisia, nobody arrives at a house without being handed something sweet. A plate of small almond pastries appears within minutes of a guest crossing the threshold, alongside a glass of mint tea or a small cup of coffee. These are the sweets of everyday hospitality rather than grand occasions — made in batches on a Friday, kept in a tin, and brought out whenever someone calls. On a British afternoon tea table they sit beautifully: lighter than a slice of cake, more interesting than a biscuit, and quietly scented with orange blossom.

The pastries go by several names. Samsa are the small triangles, m'kharek the coiled, ribbon-like versions, and baklawa the layered, tray-baked sort. All three rest on the same idea: finely ground almonds, sugar and a generous dose of orange blossom water, wrapped in something very thin, then soaked in honey.

Why Orange Blossom and Honey Do the Work

Tunisian home cooks are sparing with spice and generous with fragrance. Orange blossom water — mazhar — is sold in small glass bottles and sits in every Tunisian kitchen beside the rose water and the harissa. It is what lifts these pastries from pleasant to memorable.

A word of warning: a little goes a long way. Too much and the filling tastes like soap. Roughly two teaspoons for 250g of ground almonds is the right sort of level, and it is worth buying a decent brand rather than the cheapest bottle on the shelf.

Honey is the second half of the equation. Unlike Greek or Levantine pastries drenched in sugar syrup, many Tunisian versions use warmed honey, which clings more thickly and brings its own floral note. A good runny honey — acacia, orange blossom or a mild wildflower — makes a real difference. Thin, cheap honey simply disappears into the pastry and the perfume is lost.

What You Need

• 250g ground almonds, blanched rather than skin-on, for a pale filling
• 100g caster sugar
• 1 egg white, lightly beaten
• 2 tsp orange blossom water
• ½ tsp ground cinnamon, optional but traditional
• 250g filo or brick pastry, or malsouka sheets if you can find them
• Neutral oil for frying — sunflower or light olive
• 250g runny honey, plus 1 tsp orange blossom water for the bath

Malsouka, the paper-thin semolina sheets used in Tunisia, are hard to find outside North African grocers, but filo works perfectly well and is far easier to handle. Look for a good-quality fresh or frozen filo rather than the palest, driest own-brand packet.

Shaping, Frying and the Honey Bath

Mix the almonds, sugar, cinnamon and orange blossom water in a bowl, then add just enough egg white to bring it together into a firm paste. You want it to hold when squeezed, not to be wet or sticky. Roll into walnut-sized balls.

If you are using filo, cut it into strips about 6cm wide. Brush very lightly with melted butter or oil, place a ball of filling at one end, fold the corners inwards and roll into a neat triangle or cigar. Keep the rest of the pastry under a damp tea towel while you work: filo dries out in minutes and cracks at the edges.

Heat about 4cm of oil to 170°C — a cube of bread should sizzle gently rather than ferociously. Fry the pastries in small batches for two to three minutes until pale gold. They colour quickly because of the sugar in the filling, so watch them closely. Drain on kitchen paper.

Meanwhile, warm the honey gently with the extra orange blossom water. It should be loose and runny, never simmering. Dip each pastry for twenty to thirty seconds, turning once, then lift out with a slotted spoon and rest on a wire rack set over a tray. Any honey that drips through can be poured back over the next batch.

Pouring the Mint Tea

These pastries are sweet, so the drink beside them needs to be bracing. Traditional Tunisian mint tea is gunpowder green tea, a fistful of fresh spearmint and a good deal of sugar, poured from a height to build a foam on top. If that is too much trouble on a weekday, a strong espresso or a small cup of cardamom-scented coffee works just as well.

For a British afternoon tea, offer them alongside plain or lightly sweetened mint tea, and perhaps a bowl of fresh dates and a few salted almonds to break up the sweetness. Resist the urge to add cream or icing — these pastries are complete as they are.

Keeping Them, and Serving Them

Once the honey has stopped dripping, the pastries will keep for a fortnight in an airtight tin. Layer them between sheets of baking parchment, because the honey makes them determinedly sticky. A cool cupboard is better than the fridge, which turns the pastry soft and the honey grainy.

They are at their best on the day after making, when the honey has soaked in and the almond flavour has settled. That, conveniently, makes them an excellent thing to prepare on a Saturday for a Sunday afternoon. Set them out on a plain plate, dust nothing over them, and let the orange blossom do the talking.