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Turkish Delight1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Itinerary | Home
I ordered a bottle of raki, a grape spirit infused with aniseed, the favoured lubricant for a Nevizade night. (Meyhane tables are set with straight cylindrical raki glasses rather than wine stems.) I poured a generous shot into our glasses and diluted each with mineral water. Only the naive or foolhardy would hazard to drink it straight. I plucked a few ice cubes from the bucket our waiter provided and slipped them into the glasses. The chilling turned the raki white and creamy. Turks call this aslan sütü (lion’s milk). I’d read somewhere that it is vital to add water first, then ice, since the taste of the raki is ruined by the sudden shock of cold. Judging by Moonira’s grimace, however, it didn’t help. “Do you actually like this stuff?” she asked after a cleansing gulp of water. “Or is this one of those ‘when-in-Rome’ things?” “There is an old Turkish proverb that says if you want to know a person, either travel with them or go and drink raki with them,” I said. “Considering we are on our honeymoon, I thought it a good idea to do both.” Our waiter squeezed back to us bearing a vast platter of mezes, Turkish tapas. These small bites apparently originated from the days of the palace food tasters, who checked if the Sultan’s dinner was poisoned. Most meyhanes also offer full-size entrées, but the restaurants are judged by the quality of their mezes. Moonira and I pointed to a few that looked interesting, and the server left with our order. |
