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| a real Turkish experience |
‘He’ is Fatih, our lovely waiter at Efendy preparing me for my raki tasting, a strong aniseed flavoured Turkish aperitif.
Somer Sivrioglu, chef and owner at Efendy has left the kitchen to consult me on Turkish wine but tells me that for a real Turkish experience I should be drinking raki. I can’t argue.
It’s 45% alcohol, twice distilled and mixed with ice and water for cloudiness. The milky coloured mixture is popularly called aslan sutu which literally means ‘lions milk’, I think it’s because you need a lion heart to drink it.
It’s 45% alcohol, twice distilled and mixed with ice and water for cloudiness. The milky coloured mixture is popularly called aslan sutu which literally means ‘lions milk’, I think it’s because you need a lion heart to drink it.
I try three varieties of raki, the first is Yeni Raki, the most traditional, reasonably priced and the strongest of the lot. It has an instant hit of aniseed, like you have soaked a piece of fennel in alcohol and taken a big juicy bite. Yeni raki is stronger than newer varieties because it is traditionally made from already dried grapes, sultanas.
This takes me to Efe Raki, made from fresh grapes and noticeably more mild but don’t be thinking the hit isn’t there. It is slightly fruitier than Yeni with a smoother, milder finish.
The third and last is the tekirdag, this variety is very fresh made from grapes and aniseed and rested in oak barrels which gives it a slightly yellow tinge. This one in particular is mostly found west of Istanbul.
By my third swig of raki (all three before dinner I should add) I'm feeling like maybe I should wait and drink it with my food. I keep a little bit in each glass aside and have a few sips with the hot and cold mezze plates. It's then apparent why Somer gave me this to try instead of Turkish wine. The fresh grape and aniseed flavours compliment the food so incredibly well.
Besides, the first sip really is the hardest or maybe I just have a lion heart.
The third and last is the tekirdag, this variety is very fresh made from grapes and aniseed and rested in oak barrels which gives it a slightly yellow tinge. This one in particular is mostly found west of Istanbul.
By my third swig of raki (all three before dinner I should add) I'm feeling like maybe I should wait and drink it with my food. I keep a little bit in each glass aside and have a few sips with the hot and cold mezze plates. It's then apparent why Somer gave me this to try instead of Turkish wine. The fresh grape and aniseed flavours compliment the food so incredibly well.
Besides, the first sip really is the hardest or maybe I just have a lion heart.
1 comment:
Don't worry B...you definitely have a lion's heart! :))
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