Arak, the Anise Spirit That Turns to Cloud

A glass of arak, clear as well water, and then a splash of cold water turns it milky white. The smell of anise rises before you lift it. Every sip carries the noise of old markets, the stories of Pharaohs and the clang of battles won. Wander the winding streets of Beirut or rest in the quiet hills of Syria, and sooner or later you will meet this spirit, made from aniseed and soaked in history.

Think of the ancient Egyptians lounging by the Nile in the sun, sipping a drink they believed had something divine in it. That drink was arak. It was no weekend treat but a tonic for the soul. Later the Greeks and Romans, with their taste for fine things, took to it as well, which surprises nobody.

By the Middle Ages, arak had become a statement. It appeared at banquets, ceremonies and religious gatherings, and nobody could miss it in the room. The traditional healers, with their strange and potent remedies, used it too.

Arak comes from the humble aniseed, a cousin of parsley, and it carries that deep, familiar taste of licorice. Making it is a ritual. The anise seeds are soaked, the spirit is distilled with care, and what comes out is strong and clear, every drop tasting of where it came from.

Now to the drinking. Neat, beside a meal, or as the last note of a long dinner, arak is a custom as much as a drink. One sip and you might find yourself in a crowded Lebanese market or at a small Syrian family table.

So here is a short tour of arak around the Middle East and the Mediterranean:

Lebanon: Here the spirit tastes of history, as deep as the old Phoenician trade routes, and Lebanese arak holds its own anywhere in the world.

Syria: Think of a traveller crossing the desert with a barrel of arak ageing slowly behind him. That is the Syrian kind: aged, refined, a taste of the long years.

Israel: Bold and daring like the pioneers who founded the country, Israeli arak is a brave spirit, carrying a Mediterranean inheritance through the trials of a young state.

Palestine: The quiet olive groves lend their stories to Palestinian arak, and each sip carries centuries of patience.

Turkey: Legend says Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror loved Turkish arak and found inspiration in its gentle sweetness during the conquest of Byzantium.

Iran: In the land of poets and warriors, arak is raised as the drink of heroes, a toast to their victories.

Jordan: Wrapped in Bedouin custom, Jordanian arak stands for hospitality and for very old ways of welcoming a guest.

Across all these flavors and stories, arak keeps one promise. It ties communities to one another and to what they share, a sip at a time. Pour the water and watch the glass go white. History is already in it.