It's All Greek to Me

Landed in Crete 12 days ago, and although I've had wine every single evening, I can't honestly say that I've got any grasp on what the hell I'm drinking. I know I've enjoyed some of what I've had, but I haven't been disciplined about taking notes. In addition to wrecking the rear end of my rental car on my first day here (no, I had NOT been drinking!), blowing up my laptop on day two by using the incorrect combination of adaptors/converters (fortunately I was able to get it fixed, although it's been mighty temperamental ever since) and the general hassle involved in settling into a new abode half-way across the world, I've just had other things on my mind that have inhibited me from diligent note-taking.

That said, here's what I have noted:

1) The Koutsoyannopoulos Wine Museum/Winery on Santorini was very creative and fun and interesting, but it didn't really teach me squat about Santorini wines other than that it must have been a bitch to make wine there up until just recently. I tasted three wines, the white of course being Assyrtiko, the red being I don't remember, and the dessert wine being not vin santo. Something else that they barrel age for 10 years and which can only be purchased through their winery store. It was quite nice, although not in my opinion worth the 25 euro price tag.

2) I think I like Nemea reds. I'm having a glass of 2006 Oreitis Agiorgitiko while I listen to the soothing sounds of the Cretan family next door fighting (they've been going at it for several hours now). It reminds me a bit of a Cru Beaujolais on the nose, although not nearly as complex and earthy on the palate.

3) The vast majority, if not all, of the vines here are bush/gobelet trained. Which makes sense, I guess, given the climate.

4) Assyrtiko is a very nice grape.

5) It's very daunting to go into a grocery store and attempt to buy a bottle of Greek wine when you don't know what you're looking at. I can read Greek, but I don't know what any of it means once I've sounded it out. I guess I'll just keep looking for Nemea and Santorini??? Actually, we had a sauvignon blanc/ugni blanc from the Drama region that wasn't half bad.

6) I really like the custom in the restaurants/tavernas here of giving diners a complimentary shot of something accompanied by a sweet at the end of the meal alongside the bill. Granted, the Rakki is a bit hard to swallow (no pun intended) but we've noticed no ill effects so far.

Well, that's it for now. I hope to have some time to catch up with what everyone else here is tasting, now that I'm getting settled in. It's a bit warm and stifling in my house right now (I have no a/c) so I'm going to sign off and go sit on the patio and listen to the neighborhood disputes accompanied by the frequent barking of dogs and the occasional call of a rooster who didn't get the memo that he's supposed to make noise at dawn.

Yia Sas!

Hi Kyrstyn,

About 10 years ago, in a Greek restaurant, I stumbled upon the most amazing pairing. Alternate sips of ouzo and full bodied dry red Greek wine. The ouzo does something to your mouth which gives the wine a completely different dimension. Try it!

Marc

Hi Kyrstyn,

About 10 years ago, in a Greek restaurant, I stumbled upon the most amazing pairing. Alternate sips of ouzo and full bodied dry red Greek wine. The ouzo does something to your mouth which gives the wine a completely different dimension. Try it!

Marc

Interesting, Marc. Although I wonder if for the sake of avoiding a potential volatile combination of alcohols (I try not to mix) I might be able to get a similar effect from eating black licorice with a full bodied Greek red? I might try that first:-)

I really like the custom in the restaurants/tavernas here of giving diners a complimentary shot of something accompanied by a sweet at the end of the meal alongside the bill. Granted, the Rakki is a bit hard to swallow (no pun intended) but we've noticed no ill effects so far.

Fantastic to hear your experiences . . . notes on your neighbors are entertaining and as welcomed as any notes on the wine as well!

Do they call it raki there and not ouzu? That'd make the Turks happy! Or am I confusing it with something else?

Kyrstyn,

Glad to hear you made it safe and sound. I remember you telling us last winter about the trip. Don't forget to visit Santo (for the fantastic views, not for the mostly unpleasant wine) and Boutari.

I am looking forward to your future reviews of wine, food and life in Greece!

Ευθυμίες!

Interesting thread. My last visit to Santorini with mother was a lot of fun, she wanted to sit on the nudist beach and I had a hell of a time trying to make her change her mind!! I had no problem but felt sure mother would eventually disapprove in no uncertain tones.

Keith, Raki isn't the same as ouzo...it's more like moonshine. Anthony Bourdain said it's like drinking lighter fluid. Found a kind of interesting article on it (full text at http://www.sfakia-crete.com/sfakia-crete/raki.html):

Every autumn after grape harvest, various wine festivities begin throughout Greece. A few days later, in Thessaly, Epirus, Macedonia and on the island of Crete the "Celebration of Tsipouro" takes place.

Tsipouro is a strong distilled spirit containing approximately 37 per cent alcohol per volume and is produced from the must-residue of the wine-press. The name tsipouro is used throughout the country, except for Crete, where the same spirit with a stronger aroma is known as tsikoudia. Also the Oriental name raki is used, from which the term "rakizio" is derived, used to refer to the drink's distillation process, which usually turns into a huge celebration among family, friends and neighbours.

Turkish raki, its traditional drink, is not the same drink as the Cretan one. In Turkey raki was first produced from the residue of grapes left over from wine making only. When a shortage of residue started, spirits from abroad were imported and processed with aniseed.

In the near and middle east countries the drink is known by different names such as Araka, Araki, Ariki which obviously come from the same origin. Some claim that it is called Iraqi (from Iraq) because it was first made in this country and spread to other regions. Others say it got its name from the razaki grapes used in producing it. Both theories are acceptable. Another theory is that arak in Arabic means "sweat" and araki "that which makes one sweat." If one drinks too much raki one does sweat sometimes and when raki is being distilled it falls drop by drop like sweat, so the name could have come from Arabic.

During the Turkish occupation of Crete the name raki was given to the local tsikoudia, since there were some similarities. Now both names are used in Crete equally.