Kazan. The Turkish word for cauldron or boiler. Interesting how almost 400 years of Ottoman dominance over the Greek land has influenced language, gastronomy or traditions.
Every fall in the grape producing areas of Greece, after the big period of grape harvesting and the end of wine making, a new process begins. Pomace, which is the solid remain of grapes after the juice is pressed out, can always be reused to distil more alcohol. In Crete, the residual grapes are reworked into producing raki, the most famous Cretan liquor, in a process locally called Kazania. Raki has a strong clean taste and it is the perfect treat for guests and friends.
The process of raki production sounds like a trip on a roller coaster, where biology meets chemistry. First, there is the halt to the caves, in the form of plastic barrels. The rich in sugars pomace stays there for 40 days to ferment.
Then it goes into a still sitting on fire. The fire is forcible enough to vaporize the liquid, but not that strong to burn the grapes and contaminate the final product with a smoky odor. As chemistry teachers told us in school, alcohol is more volatile than water, thus fire is producing alcohol vapors quickly and forces them into an horizontal pipe, the cap arm pipe. Then the real fun begins! After the cap arm pipe, vapors meet the worm box and start a crazy spiral way down a coiled pipe and through a bath of cold water. The cold shock turns vapor into liquid again, only this time it is 100 percent alcohol.
Pure alcohol is good for starting a fire or rub your chest in case of a cold, but drinking it might not be a good idea. Thus, at the exit alcohol has a friendly encounter with water, which turns the alcohol volume of the final product into 18 to 19 percent.
Then it goes into a still sitting on fire. The fire is forcible enough to vaporize the liquid, but not that strong to burn the grapes and contaminate the final product with a smoky odor. As chemistry teachers told us in school, alcohol is more volatile than water, thus fire is producing alcohol vapors quickly and forces them into an horizontal pipe, the cap arm pipe. Then the real fun begins! After the cap arm pipe, vapors meet the worm box and start a crazy spiral way down a coiled pipe and through a bath of cold water. The cold shock turns vapor into liquid again, only this time it is 100 percent alcohol.
Pure alcohol is good for starting a fire or rub your chest in case of a cold, but drinking it might not be a good idea. Thus, at the exit alcohol has a friendly encounter with water, which turns the alcohol volume of the final product into 18 to 19 percent.
This is what science teaches, but the process sounds much more interesting when my father is explaining it. My father is a great story teller, only he has four or five stories that he thinks are worth-telling, so he shares them with every guest we have at the house. The repetition of the same stories about his army adventures or the wild days of his youth always tires me, however there is one story that I never get bored to hear. This is the story about Kazania or the days of raki production. This story sounds so fascinating that I always wish I could be there with him. Only this year I did join him in the festivities.
If in big units alcohol production is just another normal day, in Crete this is anything but an ordinary situation. As in every other occasion, this is a time to celebrate. Through the eyes of a non-Greek, this might sound crazy. However, there is a good syllogism behind it. Raki production leads to raki tasting, which in turn leads to raki consumption. Alcohol requires food, so while producing raki there is a lot of cooking and eating. As a matter of fact, the raki producer is responsible for catering the feast table, although the guests always bring some food to share. Food sharing bonds the participants and raki enhances their feelings. But instead of starting a fist fight, Greeks choose to dance! Hence the myth that Greeks dance in every occasion, whether it is joy or sadness, a bright or a rainy day.
In this year's Kazania food sharing was prominent and came in the form of meat, nuts, bread, pies, grapes and potatoes roasted in the fire of the still. There I understood the value of simplicity, when the offerings of the guests came in the form of hearty pork chops instead of tiny chocolate bonbons wrapped in humongous fancy ribbons, commonly offered in "proper" occasions. In one such feast I tasted the most delicious cheese pie from a local ladies and a delightful roast potato right out of the boiler fire. Simple, clean tastes that pleased the palate and the soul.
And then singing begins in the form of mantinades, the famous Cretan songs in rhyming couplets. People recalled the big feasts of older times near the river. The steam of the boiler always gives the first mantinada, followed by a series of of rhythmic verses in the form of a dialogue. I drink a shot of raki, I sing the first verse and I pour you a shot. You drink it and you give me a mantinada back in response, all along the sound of Cretan lyre. That is the way. And the feast goes on...
In this year's Kazania food sharing was prominent and came in the form of meat, nuts, bread, pies, grapes and potatoes roasted in the fire of the still. There I understood the value of simplicity, when the offerings of the guests came in the form of hearty pork chops instead of tiny chocolate bonbons wrapped in humongous fancy ribbons, commonly offered in "proper" occasions. In one such feast I tasted the most delicious cheese pie from a local ladies and a delightful roast potato right out of the boiler fire. Simple, clean tastes that pleased the palate and the soul.And then singing begins in the form of mantinades, the famous Cretan songs in rhyming couplets. People recalled the big feasts of older times near the river. The steam of the boiler always gives the first mantinada, followed by a series of of rhythmic verses in the form of a dialogue. I drink a shot of raki, I sing the first verse and I pour you a shot. You drink it and you give me a mantinada back in response, all along the sound of Cretan lyre. That is the way. And the feast goes on...
No comments:
Post a Comment