Heights Chateau, "The Focused Palate": May 2012

Go all around the Mediterranean, starting on the Costa del Sol or the French Riviera, and in whatever country you touch down in you will be offered licorice in a glass. For the Spanish it will be Chinchon or Anis Gorilla; for the French it will be anisette or Pernod or pastis or (now that it's legal again) absinthe; for the Italians, anisette or Sambuca; in Greece, ouzo, of course; in Turkey, raki; and in Lebanon and other countries of the Middle East, arak. If the country touches the Mediterranean Sea and the culture permits the consumption of alcohol, you will find there an anise-flavored spirit.

+/- Anise, the Universal Flavor of the Mediterranean

And that makes great good sense. Anise is a member of the parsley family, it originated in the eastern Mediterranean somewhere around 1500 B.C. and is found today in all the countries that rim the Mediterranean. Anise was regarded as sacred by the ancient Egyptians and as a panacea by the ancient Greeks; Hippocrates wrote about a drink called anisum, extolling its medical effectiveness. As for its various alcoholic incarnations, once the Arabs invented the art of distilling, that knowledge and skill spread quickly throughout the Mediterranean region.
As for those alcoholic incarnations, let’s focus on what is perhaps the best-known version, the Greek one called ouzo. Ouzo has been produced commercially only since the latter part of the 19th century, but it does of course have deep roots in Greek history. As with versions made in other countries, “early” ouzo was made by steeping anise in alcohol; today it is made by distilling either pressed fruit (grapes, raisins, figs) or more likely the residue of the winemaking process (skins, seeds), then flavoring the result with aniseed and sometimes a touch of fennel or other aromatic herbs, then sometimes redistilling the liquid to bring out the pure character of the flavors. The result is a deceptively strong spirit with a pronounced anise character. And so a word to the wise: if you don’t like the taste of licorice, you probably won’t like ouzo (or any of its many Mediterranean cousins).
Ouzo is produced everywhere in Greece and specific recipes, whether those of families or of commercial companies, are held as closely guarded secrets. But ask a Greek who knows about ouzo and you will be told that the best ouzo comes from the island of Lesbos; in fact, one aficionado has written, “If you have never had ouzo from Lesbos, there is a possibility you have never had good ouzo.” In Greece ouzo is an art,a philosophy, a way of life: it appears day and night, as an aperitif, as an after-dinner drink, and at baptisms, weddings and funerals, at every conceivable kind of celebration. And Greeks will tell you that the key to drinking ouzo is to have it with food, which will keep the effects of the high level of alcohol from overwhelming you; in fact, even the most modest taverna will serve you a meze (snack) with your ouzo, anything from a small salad or a portion of fava beans to stewed meat or fried fish. The other key to enjoying ouzo is to dilute it with water; at that local taverna your glass of ouzo will come with a separate glass of water and/or a dish of ice. And, as one wag has written, don’t try to be macho, use the water! The norm is a two-to-one ratio of water to spirit, but some people will simply continue to add ice and/or water as they sip the ouzo so that the spirit is further and further diluted.
Now, no self-respecting Greek (or ouzo fan of any other nationality, for that matter) would tolerate the addition of anything other than water to the spirit; that having been said, however, I thought it would be fun to end this discussion with a few ouzo cocktail recipes.