Based in İzmir, (AKA Smyrna) Turkey, I suppose that the Dimes Company calls this one “Classic” in honor of all Smyrna’s former residents. You know – the ones who planted the cherry trees? The ones who were viciously burnt out of their homes, tortured, and then literally chased into the sea…? Yeah, cheers to them guys. Thanks for the juice.
If you can, imagine 7up as it was in the pre-HFCS era. That’s Çamlıca: Turkish 7up. But, for me, citrus flavoring and pine tree/snowflake imagery sorta contrast.
Tamek brand Sour Cherry Nectar is only 35% juice, but even hypersweet cherry juice is delicious, and Tamek cuts the recipe with lemon to compensate. Sadly lacking in carbonation, though.
Interestingly, the can of Çamlıca provides bilingual information… in Turkish and Greek. I’m at a loss over this. Who’s the intended audience? Certainly not the few hundred Greek-speakers in Northern Cyprus, nor the couple thousand in Turkey proper. The Northern Aegean black market? I HAVE NO IDEA. It’s weird.
Meanwhile, Tamek pursues the standard Turk food-labeling language conventions, but diplomatically adds Arabic to the usual list.
And then – the inevitable:
^^^ Mix ‘em up to create a slightly undercarbonated cherry-lemon hyperglycemic surprise.
Add to the previous entry Elixia Limonade flavours: ‘Fraise de Bois‘, ‘Cerise Griotte‘, ‘Sapin‘, and ‘Mirabelle‘!
Then I went to sleep. But not before brushing my teeth.
Just in time for QuineFest, 2008, here’s Rutgers-endorsed, Tomasello Winery’s cranberry wine.
Yeah that was a stretch. So?
Though a mere 9% alcohol, this wine is made from 100% real cranberries. No apple, no grape, no grāpple. It’s AMAZING.
The Tomasello Winery people seem nice too. Third-generation family owned with a whole huge line of products. Of special interest to me, though, are the fruit wines: Cranberry, cherry, blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, and pomegranate. Must COLLECT THEM ALL.
So, laugh not at the idea of New Jersey wineries! Even if they host a few weddings on the side.
At a grimy souvlaki joint (weirdly named ‘ο ερυθροσ’) along Sevastopoulos Road, they make their own retsina. These weary hash-slingers “bottle it” (that is, pour it into empty plastic water bottles) before your very eyes – and the stuff will kick your ass.
This wonderful drink is bettered only by the homemade raki provided by Adonis’ 90-year-old Cretan step-grandfather. Mr. Very Old Man adds sour cherry juice to his moonshine, and bottles it in even sketchier containers than the one depicted above.
Chios is a strange one amongst Greek islands. Yeah, it’s got the inevitable picturesque port… but with an old, mostly intact mosque/minaret hovering overhead, and a Mohammedan cemetery nearby. It’s got clunky, mediæval towns and fine, sandstone homes. [All photos by me; thank you-thank you.]
The island is also known for serious tragedy, catastrophe, cherries, and mastic (μαστίχα)!
I tried some cherry juice (in the village of Kambos) but it was way oversugared. It’s foolish to bottle a sour cherry juice only to sweeten it.
Then I tried MAST, mastic-flavored soda. It’s a “Refreshing, Sparkling Drink with Mastic“, and it is totally AMAZING. Even worth traveling to this depressing little island just to drink.
It tastes like carbonated WD-40.
[PS - When on Chios, in Chios Town, I recommend Pizza Palace. Out-of-place, I know - but trust me: they serve good food.]
I am prevented from really dredging-up one of the most classic racist remarks as I can’t seem to find a good picture of a Big Shot brand grape soda to illustrate.
As far as I know, there is no stereotype associated with pineapple soda…
And certainly one cannot generalize about those connoisseurs of black cherry soda…
So I am left with nothing to say but that Big Shot grape soda is totally disgusting. Of course.
But, then, I’m not really part of the target demographic.
I took one sip, dumped out the rest, and ate my candy instead.
Mmm.
I am surprised at the powerful nostalgia I attach to drinking this stuff.
It’s a distinct flavour, I guess – and not a common find.
I’m completely overwhelmed by the stupefying memory of marching to “Le Paradis de la Bière” in -30˚ nights.
I was reading a (pathetic, but somehow highly-recommended) novel recently. The protagonist, a former expat returned to America, describes a situation that seems familiar to me:
“In the Low Countries, I’d developed a taste for refermented fruit beers. These were as expensive here as they were ridiculous, in the land of the thin, frozen pilsner. But a kriek was a lot cheaper than a round-trip ticket. I ordered a bottle, which the bartender had to dust off.”
And, from the same book, but on cognitive science:
“A brain tangled enough to tackle itself must be too tangled to tackle.”
Agreed.
{Confidential: ευχαριστώ πολύ ! to ξ who hooked me up with a super-rare LP I’ve been searching out for about a decade.
Not just a song, but a landmark piece of COWPUNK HISTORY. Odd accompaniment for kriek beer.}
“BENEFITS OF CONSUMER:
unique quality
differentiation from the mass
stability in flavour
Greek character
separate choice”
ΕΨΑ (Epsa) is famous for its lemonade in a fancy glass bottle, but I tried the Bυσσινάδα (sour cherry drink) instead.
It’s too sweet, and only 20% juice.
But to present the opposing point of view, here’s a jingle:
Squamscot Black Cherry tastes a bit artificial, but has a beautiful color.
