Raki tastes like licorice. Black licorice. Strong black licorice.
That is, until the third glass.
Carrie and I enjoyed, no, relished, our three hour dinner on a side street of Taksim. We ate outside; it rained for the first day in months in Istanbul today and the weather was too beautiful to leave behind outdoors.
The view from our table
We started with meze -- Turkish appetizers akin to Spanish tapas -- in the form of marinated red bell peppers, stewed and mashed eggplant, rich, soft Turkish cheese and thick yogurt full of dill and mint. Eventually we ordered a plate of grilled lamb kebabs, leisurely enjoying the city to the sounds of Turkish music playing overhead. I am having an affair with Istanbul.
At the end of the night I shoved the near-empty bottle of raki into my purse. Next Thursday brings with it our midterm exam and I fear a drink (or two) will be in order.
(Before commencing our Raki consumption, Carrie and I visited the Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque. Pictures coming soon!)
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