Walk through any Tunisian market in July and you will see mint sold not in dainty supermarket packets but in great, loose armfuls, stems still wet, leaves dark and crinkled. In Britain we tend to file mint under lamb or pudding. In Tunisia it is a working herb: it goes into salads, into the herb mix for meatballs, into stuffings, into soups and above all into the glass of tea that ends every meal. Understanding that range makes it much easier to cook with.

Which Mint, and When to Use It Fresh or Dried

The mint you want is spearmint — what Tunisians call naânaâ — not peppermint. Spearmint is softer, sweeter and less aggressively menthol, which is why it can sit in a savoury dish without dominating it. Peppermint is bracing in tea but clumsy in a salad.

Tunisian kitchens keep mint in two states, and they are not interchangeable:

• Fresh mint is for raw and last-minute use: salads, chopped herb mixtures, a garnish on grilled fish, a few leaves torn over a bowl of beans. Heat destroys the delicate top notes, so it goes in late or not at all.
• Dried mint (naânaâ yabis) is for cooking. Dried in late summer and stored in jars, it has a deeper, more resinous, almost hay-like flavour. It is crumbled into stuffings, stirred into soups, and rubbed into meat mixtures where fresh mint would simply vanish.

Dried mint is also the traditional choice for salade mechouia, the smoky grilled pepper and tomato salad. Fresh mint tastes thin against all that char and garlic; dried mint holds its own. Buy it from a Middle Eastern or North African grocer and look for leaves that are still green rather than grey — grey means old.

Mint in the Tunisian Salad Bowl

Tunisia's everyday salad, salata arabi, is a rough dice of tomato, cucumber, onion and green pepper, dressed with olive oil, lemon, salt and a spoonful of harissa. Chopped flat-leaf parsley and mint go in by the handful, and the mint is not decoration. It cuts the acid of the tomato and the burn of the harissa so that the whole thing tastes clean rather than sharp.

Two other salads are worth knowing:

• Orange and olive salad — sliced oranges, black olives, red onion, a pinch of cinnamon, a splash of orange blossom water and a scatter of mint. Cooling, sweet-savoury and typically Tunisian.
• Tastira — fried peppers, tomatoes and garlic softened down into a jammy stew, often finished with egg. A little dried mint stirred in at the end lifts it enormously.

The rule with raw salads: add the mint five minutes before serving, not an hour ahead. It blackens and turns bitter once it sits in lemon juice and salt.

Mint Tea and the Ritual of the Pour

Tunisian mint tea is green tea, usually a gunpowder-style leaf, brewed with a lot of sugar and a bundle of fresh spearmint. It is often served with pine nuts floating on top — thé aux pignons — or with almonds, particularly in the south around Tozeur and Nefta. If you are making it at home, use far more mint than feels reasonable: a good fistful per small pot, added off the boil so it stays green rather than stewed.

The pouring matters. Tea is poured from a height into small glasses, which aerates it and builds a thin foam on the surface. It is a gesture of hospitality as much as technique, and it is usually poured three times, each glass supposedly gentler and sweeter than the last. Mint is also used in cold drinks, most simply as a tisane with lemon, or muddled into a glass of water with a spoon of sugar on a hot afternoon.

Mint in Cooked Dishes and Stuffings

This is where British cooks tend to be surprised. Mint appears in the following, and it belongs there:

• Kefta and meatballs — minced lamb or beef with onion, parsley, dried mint, harissa and often a little grated cheese, formed into patties and fried or grilled.
• Tunisian tajine — a baked egg dish, closer to a set omelette than the Moroccan stew of the same name. Spinach, cheese, parsley and dried mint are a classic filling.
• Osbane — stuffed tripe with rice, chard, parsley and dried mint, made for Eid and big family gatherings.
• Chorba and loubia — soups and white bean stews that take a pinch of dried mint in the last ten minutes, where it acts a bit like a bay leaf, adding depth rather than a minty note.
• Brik — the crisp fried pastry parcel with egg, tuna and capers. Mint is optional but works well alongside the parsley.

In these dishes, mint is doing the same job as lemon zest or yoghurt in other cuisines: it cools fat and heat.

Practical Pairings and Kitchen Notes

If you remember one thing, make it this: mint in Tunisia is a savoury herb that happens to be refreshing. Pair it with ingredients that need a lift — lamb, oily fish, tuna, eggs, aubergine, tomatoes, peppers, pulses, oranges. It sits happily with parsley, coriander, garlic, caraway, cumin, harissa and olive oil, and less happily with cream or cheese sauces.

A few practical points:

• Store fresh mint like a bunch of flowers: stems in a glass of water, covered loosely, in the fridge. It will keep for a week.
• To use dried mint, rub it between your palms over the pan. The friction releases the oils.
• Bloom dried mint briefly in warm olive oil at the start of cooking for stews; add fresh mint right at the end.
• Chop fresh mint with a sharp knife and don't overwork it — bruised leaves taste metallic.

Start with a bowl of tomato salad, a spoonful of dried mint in a lamb kefta mix, and a pot of green tea with a fistful of spearmint. That is three-quarters of the way to understanding what mint is doing in a Tunisian kitchen.