Drinking Traditions of the Levant: 6 Local Beverages That Define a Region

From coastal cities to mountain terraces, the Levant drinks what its climate and history provide: sun-ripe grapes, anise, and stone-fruit spirits. Wine-making revived under modern expertise overlays Phoenician roots, while village distillation keeps age-old flavors alive.

Meals are social marathons—mezze tables in Beirut, courtyard feasts in Bethlehem, seaside tavernas in Limassol—where a shared bottle or carafe sets the pace. Across borders, you’ll find a common thread: simple ingredients, meticulous craft, and drinks tied to place.

Arak is the Levant’s signature anise spirit, distilled from fermented grape must (sometimes sugarcane molasses) with green anise. Typically 40–60% ABV, it’s double or triple distilled in copper alembics and, in Lebanon, often rested in clay amphorae for a clean, silky texture. When mixed two parts water to one part arak, it turns milky—“louche”—and reveals aromas of licorice, fennel, and fresh herbs.

Culturally, arak anchors long lunches and mezze spreads. In Lebanon, Zahle’s arak has a strong reputation; in Syria, Damascus taverns serve it with grilled lamb; in Jordan, brands like Arak Haddad are fixtures in Amman and Fuheis; and in Palestine, small producers such as Muaddi pour it at family celebrations. It’s traditionally sipped slowly with cold appetizers—labneh, olives, kibbeh nayyeh—and seafood along the coast.

Order a carafe in Beirut or Zahle and watch the ritual: water first, then spirit, then ice to avoid crystallization and preserve aroma. Expect a dry, clean finish that cuts rich dishes and brightens herb-heavy salads. In cool mountain evenings around Aley or the Anti-Lebanon foothills, that licorice lift feels almost medicinal.

Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley, at 900–1,200 meters, pairs hot, dry days with cool nights—prime conditions for structured reds and aromatic whites. Historic estates—Château Ksara (founded by Jesuits in 1857), Château Musar, and Domaine des Tourelles—blend Mediterranean heritage with French technique. Reds often incorporate Cinsault, Carignan, Grenache, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Syrah; whites feature indigenous Obaideh and Merwah alongside Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc.

Expect reds with sun-warmed cherry, blackcurrant, and baking spice, framed by firm tannins and 13–15% ABV. Whites range from citrus and pear to beeswax and wild herb, with a saline edge from limestone soils. Harvest runs late summer to early autumn; extended elevage is common for top cuvées.

In Zahle and Chtaura, valley restaurants serve these wines with lamb, fattoush, and char-grilled eggplant. Beirut wine bars pour Bekaa bottles by the glass, showcasing vintages that age gracefully. The lineage stretches to Phoenician traders, but the modern renaissance began under the French Mandate and accelerated in the late 20th century, making Bekaa a byword for Levantine wine quality.

Commandaria is Cyprus’s storied dessert wine, a Protected Designation of Origin made from two indigenous grapes: white Xynisteri and red Mavro. After harvest, grapes are sun-dried on mats to concentrate sugars, then gently pressed and fermented. The wine typically reaches 15–16% ABV naturally and ages at least two years in oak, sometimes via a fractional (solera-like) system that deepens complexity.

In the foothills north of Limassol—historic villages like Koilani—the combination of altitude, stony soils, and abundant sun yields flavors of dried fig, date, caramel, and toasted walnut, with hints of clove and orange peel. Texture is viscous but balanced by acidity, making it a classic pairing with roasted nuts, halloumi, or syrupy pastries.

Celebrated since Crusader times, Commandaria has a credible claim as one of the world’s oldest named wines still in production. Today, you can taste it in Limassol and Nicosia wine bars as an after-dinner pour or alongside dessert. It’s served cool in small glasses—an elegant coda to grilled fish or mezze-heavy feasts along the south coast.

Zivania is a clear pomace brandy distilled from the skins and stems left after pressing indigenous grapes—primarily Xynisteri and Mavro. Typically 45–52% ABV, it’s made in copper stills (kazani) in mountain villages across the Troodos range. The style is bone-dry, with aromas of grape must, white pepper, and a faint almond note from pips.

Culturally, zivania is the countryside’s handshake. In cooler months, it’s a pocket-warmer on hikes; in village squares and Nicosia taverns, it arrives with olives, charcuterie, and pickled carrots. Locals use it in the kitchen for deglazing pork dishes and even as a traditional rub for aches.

Expect a brisk, linear palate that cleanses between salty meze and grilled halloumi. Many households maintain small stills, and commercial bottlings standardize quality under PGI rules. Ask for it well-chilled in Limassol or Koilani, where a frosty shot glass brings out citrus-peel lift and a lingering, resinous finish that tastes of mountain air.

Israel’s wine revival took off in the late 20th century, focusing on high-altitude limestone and basalt sites in Upper Galilee and the Judean Hills. Old-vine Carignan has been rehabilitated alongside Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon; whites range from Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc to Mediterranean varieties. Many vineyards sit 600–900 meters above sea level, with a strong diurnal swing shaping acidity.

Galilee reds lean to black cherry, blueberry, and violets with pepper and bay leaf; Judean Hills wines show red fruit, Mediterranean garrigue, and stony minerality. ABV typically runs 13–15%. Historic producer Carmel traces to 1882 in Zikhron Ya’akov, while the 1980s brought a wave of quality-focused wineries across the north and hills around Jerusalem.

Order glasses in Tel Aviv wine bars for seafood pairings, or visit cellar doors near Zikhron Ya’akov and Katzrin for structured tastings. In Jerusalem’s restaurants, Judean Hills bottles excel with lamb kebabs, freekeh, and herbed salads, confirming the region’s reputation for terroir-driven Mediterranean wines.

On limestone terraces around Bethlehem, Beit Jala, and the Ramallah area, Palestinian wineries are reviving indigenous grapes like Hamdani (Marawi), Jandali, Dabouki, and Baladi. At 700–900 meters altitude, cool nights preserve acidity, yielding whites with pear, lemon zest, and sage, and light reds with pomegranate and cherry. Typical ABV sits near 12–13.5%.

Cremisan Monastery in Beit Jala has documented and vinified native varieties, while Taybeh Winery near Ramallah pairs modern technique with local fruit; the nearby town of Taybeh is also known for its beer festival. These wines are poured in Bethlehem restaurants and guesthouses, often alongside musakhan, grilled chicken with sumac, or za’atar breads.

Historically, monastic production kept wine alive for liturgy and local trade. Today’s bottlings are markers of place and heritage, illustrating how Levantine wine once tasted—saline, herb-scented, and food-friendly. Seek tastings in Bethlehem or Ramallah, where small cellars explain pruning on ancient terraces and the seasonality that shapes each vintage.