Sicilian women forge community from mafia roots, one couscous bowl at a time
A cacophony of Arabic and Italian voices fills a small Sicilian kitchen, where more than a dozen women – Tunisians and Sicilians – are laboriously crafting mountains of steaming couscous. This isn’t just a meal; it’s a testament to resilience, integration, and the unexpected ways community can bloom in the shadow of a dark past.
A decade of reclaiming a confiscated legacy
Located in Salemi, a town wrested from the grip of the mafia, Al Ciliegio – ‘The Cherry Tree’ – began as a project to repurpose land seized from organized crime. Now, in its tenth year, the Progetto Donna, or ‘Women’s Project,’ provides support and opportunity for North African migrants, offering a vital lifeline and a surprising pathway to belonging. The scene is a vibrant, chaotic tableau: hands expertly scraping couscous, potatoes being peeled with practiced ease, the air thick with the scent of spices and shared stories.
“It’s like a wedding in Tunisia!” explains Salha Zaouali, a young woman with striking blue eyes, as she expertly folds a sprig of mint into a dish. “There, all the women always make couscous together.” Her husband, a fisherman, joined her in Sicily, and she’s built a life here, a community she hadn’t anticipated. The project, initially hesitant to let women participate without their husbands’ consent, has evolved into a space of self-determination.
“The women who have been here longer are teaching the newcomers that they don’t need to ask,” says Giusy Agueli, the project’s coordinator. “You can decide for yourself.” Agueli’s role is crucial, offering navigation through the complex bureaucracy of settling in a new country – a daunting task for anyone, let alone a migrant woman.
Initially, over 100 women have passed through the project, acquiring skills and transforming their lives. Now, around twenty are actively involved, a network of support woven through shared recipes and the simple act of cooking.
The kitchen itself is a powerful symbol. Once a property of the mafia, the land has been meticulously restored and transformed into an agriturismo, offering traditional Sicilian cuisine sourced from local producers. The walls bear a poignant reminder of Sicily’s turbulent history – a portrait of Paolo Borsellino and Giovanni Falcone, the judges murdered by the mafia in the 1990s. Vito Puccio, the foundation’s president, notes that “if you want to find the mafia, you need to follow the money.”
The culinary exchange is at the heart of it all. From the fragrant harissa in the chickpea dip to the honey-glazed fritters and the delicate zouza cookies, each dish represents a bridge between cultures. Anna Maria Bongiorno, a Sicilian native, expertly demonstrates the art of panelle – crispy potato fritters – while others observe, absorbing techniques and exchanging tips. The sheer volume of dishes – antipasti, couscous, desserts – speaks to the community’s commitment to sharing and celebrating.
More than just a restaurant, Al Ciliegio is a beacon of integration, a testament to the power of Food to heal and connect. Salha Zaouali proudly displays the apron the women knitted together, a tangible symbol of their collective strength. It's a place where, as one woman, Raja Chaouch stated, “We’re now like a big family!” And as the women clear the tables, a chorus of laughter and shared stories rises above the Sicilian sun.