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The Gazette (Montreal)
November 25, 2006 Saturday
Final Edition
Arak delivers anise flavour with fire and ice
by SARAH MUSGRAVE, The Gazette
The sip: Chateau Kefraya arak
The price: $7.50 for a shot
The smell: A strong scent of anise greets the nose, with barely a
whiff of alcohol beneath it.
The look: It's a three-parter, comprising a glass of colourless
liquid, another of ice cubes and a bottle of water. When the spirit
is diluted, it turns cloudy and changes from clear to milky white.
The ice is always added afterward.
The taste: The aniseed flavour is unmistakable and concentrated, but
surprisingly smooth and rounded. At 53 per cent alcohol, it's a quiet
fire, one that doesn't burn the throat on the way down.
The story: Distilled from fermented grapes and aniseed, arak is
thought to have been developed by non-Muslim minorities in the Middle
East. Traditionally, grapes were harvested in the fall, with
distillation taking place in November. Although Islamic law has long
prohibited the consumption of alcohol, the art of distilling was
greatly advanced by early Arab scientist Jabir ibn Hayyan, who
invented the alembic in the 700s, making the process of chemically
separating substances far more efficient, systematic and safe.
The source: Le Petit Alep (191 Jean-Talon St. E., 514-270-9361) is a
busy Syrian-Armenian bistro that stocks three kinds of arak, with the
Lebanese brand Kefraya considered to have the highest quality of the
bunch. It's usually served with a range of mezze from the region, as
it pairs particularly well with aromatic dips, zatar and pita bread.
The twist: Arak finds variants in such anise-flavoured liquors as
ouzo in Greece and raki in Turkey, as well as the somewhat sweeter
French pastis.
Something worth sipping? Send suggestions to [email protected]
November 25, 2006 Saturday
Final Edition
Arak delivers anise flavour with fire and ice
by SARAH MUSGRAVE, The Gazette
The sip: Chateau Kefraya arak
The price: $7.50 for a shot
The smell: A strong scent of anise greets the nose, with barely a
whiff of alcohol beneath it.
The look: It's a three-parter, comprising a glass of colourless
liquid, another of ice cubes and a bottle of water. When the spirit
is diluted, it turns cloudy and changes from clear to milky white.
The ice is always added afterward.
The taste: The aniseed flavour is unmistakable and concentrated, but
surprisingly smooth and rounded. At 53 per cent alcohol, it's a quiet
fire, one that doesn't burn the throat on the way down.
The story: Distilled from fermented grapes and aniseed, arak is
thought to have been developed by non-Muslim minorities in the Middle
East. Traditionally, grapes were harvested in the fall, with
distillation taking place in November. Although Islamic law has long
prohibited the consumption of alcohol, the art of distilling was
greatly advanced by early Arab scientist Jabir ibn Hayyan, who
invented the alembic in the 700s, making the process of chemically
separating substances far more efficient, systematic and safe.
The source: Le Petit Alep (191 Jean-Talon St. E., 514-270-9361) is a
busy Syrian-Armenian bistro that stocks three kinds of arak, with the
Lebanese brand Kefraya considered to have the highest quality of the
bunch. It's usually served with a range of mezze from the region, as
it pairs particularly well with aromatic dips, zatar and pita bread.
The twist: Arak finds variants in such anise-flavoured liquors as
ouzo in Greece and raki in Turkey, as well as the somewhat sweeter
French pastis.
Something worth sipping? Send suggestions to [email protected]