Several pairs of hands help scrape steaming couscous into a large bowl while others peel potatoes, carrots, and onions. More than 10 women are crammed into the small kitchen, chatting loudly and laughing with one another. “It’s like a wedding in Tunisia! There, all the women always make couscous together,“ says Salha Zaouali, one of the women working at Al Ciliegio, a restaurant located in a property confiscated from the mafia, in the small Sicilian town of Salemi, about an hour’s drive from Palermo. Here, migrant women from North Africa cook alongside women from Sicily, sharing recipes and learning Italian along the way—and in doing so, having the chance to fully integrate into the local community.

The Progetto Donna (“Women’s Project”) at Al Ciliegio is now in its 10th year. For decades, men from Tunisia have come to Sicily to work as fishermen, often spending months at sea. Most of their families stayed in Tunisia, but over the years, more and more women have joined their husbands in Sicily. Currently, about 20 women are involved in the project. “Over time, we’ve had more than 100 women here. They acquired their skills here and then put those skills to use in their daily lives”, says Giusy Agueli about the project’s concept. She provides support to the women who come here, helping them navigate the many difficulties that stem from settling in a new country. Agueli adds that, in the beginning, some women needed their husbands’ permission to participate in the project. “Now it’s changing. The women who have been here longer are teaching the newcomers that they don’t need to ask. You can decide for yourself.”

Cooking and coming together through food are at the heart of Progetto Donna. “Traditionally, these women know how to cook, and they can express themselves through it and share their creations with others. That’s very empowering,” explains Agueli. “That’s the starting point for a project like this: realizing, ‘I can do something by myself.’ So cooking becomes a way of helping each other bring out the best in themselves.” At a time when immigration is under attack worldwide, Al Ciliegio and its women’s project serve as a shining example of integration and cultural exchange.

One of them is Salha Zaouali, a young woman with sparkling blue eyes and an equally striking turquoise hijab. “I’m not currently employed. My husband is a fisherman, and I joined him here,” says Zaouali. Originally trained as a German teacher, she now comes here twice a week. Zaouali adds that she has already found a community here, even though she has only lived in Sicily for six months. She proudly points to the apron they all knitted together in a sewing workshop. “We support each other.”

On the wood-paneled walls of the restaurant hangs a portrait that recalls one of the darkest chapters in Sicilian history. It shows Paolo Borsellino, who, alongside Giovanni Falcone, was best known as one of the two judges fighting against the mafia. “They were both killed by the mafia in the 1990s,” says Vito Puccio. He is the president of the non-profit Fondazione San Vito Onlus, which has set itself the task of using land confiscated from the mafia for social purposes. In this case, the foundation is creating new opportunities for female migrants from North Africa. “A project like this takes time,” Puccio notes.

“They said that if you want to find the mafia, you need to follow the money. This place was built with money made by the mafia. So the government seized the property.” Then, a long process began. “This property was closed for 10 years.” Once a property becomes government-owned, several steps must be completed. Puccio explains: “There needs to be an application explaining why the applicant wants the property. You need to present a project that explains what you want to do, why you want to do it, and how you will maintain the property. After all, when you receive the property after it has been closed for 10 years, it is completely damaged, so you need to spend some money to restore it.”

At Al Ciliegio, they have set up an agriturismo that serves traditional Sicilian cuisine made with organic ingredients sourced from local producers in the island’s lush countryside. Next to the restaurant’s vineyards, citrus trees bear fruit, while rosemary, oregano, and wild fennel grow right outside the door. In the kitchen, the women have moved on to the next dish. One woman proudly demonstrates the technique while the others watch closely as she carefully cuts the dough into triangles that will become brik, a typical deep-fried delicacy of Tunisian cuisine. Another explains the filling: “Mashed potatoes, eggs, tuna, capers, and parsley!” The air is filled with a mix of Arabic and Italian chatter.

All of the women live in nearby Mazara del Vallo, home to the largest Tunisian community in Sicily and the whole of Italy, with around 4,000 Tunisians among the city’s population of 50,000. Sicily’s diverse cuisine is heavily influenced by its centuries-old history of cultural exchange, shaped by its unique location as the largest island in the Mediterranean. “The Mediterranean is like a big family,” says Puccio. “Since Sicily is in the middle, everyone passing through from north to south or vice versa had to stop here. That’s where this big mix of influences comes from!” However, in the 1800s, it was the other way round: many Sicilians went to Tunisia in search of work. “Tunisia was richer than Sicily, especially in agriculture. That was the beginning of the connection between Sicily and Tunisia.”

Raja Chaouch, a woman with a warm voice dressed in a delicate black sweater and bright red lipstick, has lived in Sicily for 26 years and has three children. “It was only through this project that I also learned to speak Italian,” she says. With her children at university, she now enjoys spending time with the other women, especially on the yearly group outings where they explore different places around Italy together. “We’re now like a big family!”

Originally from Sicily, Anna Maria Bongiorno carefully cuts a block of beige dough into tiny squares, then deftly swirls them in a bath of sizzling oil before coating them with salt while they’re still piping hot. “Panelle,” she says, one of the island’s most popular street food snacks. After hours of cooking, huge bowls of couscous, garnished with raisins and chickpeas, are ready. The women let out a loud cheer, followed by more laughter.

More and more antipasti dishes leave the kitchen for lunch. Leblebi, a Tunisian chickpea dip made with spicy harissa, sits right next to caponata, the sweet-and-sour Sicilian eggplant signature dish. For dessert, there are Sicilian fritters glazed with honey and sesame seeds, as well as walnut-shaped cookies called zouza, another Tunisian specialty. “You have to try this—it’s filled with chocolate cream,” Amna Said, wearing an orange hijab and an even bigger smile, pours some Tunisian tea from high above, handing it out to guests. In the green tea float some pine nuts. “These are from the pine tree outside,” she explains.

After lunch, the women cheer again before clearing the tables. Said has been part of the Progetto Donna almost since the beginning. “I have both an Italian and a Tunisian passport,” she says. Said has lived in Sicily for the past 35 years, raising her children before dedicating herself to the community at Al Ciliegio. “This feels like home”, she adds. “Whenever I’m in Tunisia, I always look forward to returning to Sicily.”