Drinking Traditions of Fez: 6 Local Beverages to Know

Fez sits between the Saïss plain and the Middle Atlas, a position that shapes what people pour in their glasses. Grapes ripen in nearby Meknès vineyards, figs thrive around Sefrou, and cool mountain evenings invite slow, sociable drinking.

Alcohol is regulated and discreet in this historic city, yet licensed riads, hotel bars, and cave à vins offer a window onto local traditions. From ancestral fig spirits to the pale ‘vin gris’ that Fez made famous, here is what locals and travelers genuinely drink.

Mahia is the emblematic spirit of Fez’s historic Jewish community, a clear eau-de-vie distilled from dried figs (teen), sometimes raisins, with anise seed for lift. Home and small-scale producers ferment the fruit mash with water and yeast, then double distill it in a copper alembic; some filter lightly to soften edges. The result is typically 40–50% ABV, most often bottled around 40–45%: expect aromas of dried fig, licorice, fennel pollen, and a peppery finish that turns slightly floral with a drop of water.

Culturally, mahia punctuates celebrations and family tables, served neat in tiny glasses as an aperitif or, more often, a bracing digestif after rich tagines. Its roots reflect the agricultural map around Fez—fig trees flourish on the foothills and in gardens near Sefrou—while anise, a favored spice in local pastries, anchors its flavor. In Fez today, you’ll encounter mahia in licensed riads and discreet bars, sometimes offered with orange peel or a single ice cube. It matches well with salty nibbles—almonds, olives, and b’ssalou (sesame-nut mix)—and shines on cool evenings when the Middle Atlas air drops the day’s heat.

Fez is synonymous in Morocco with vin gris, the ultra-pale rosé traditionally made from Cinsault, Grenache, and Carignan grown on the Saïss plain and the nearby Meknès plateau. Grapes are gently pressed with minimal skin contact, then cool-fermented in stainless steel to preserve delicacy. At 11–12.5% ABV, vin gris is light-bodied and dry, with strawberry hull, white peach, pink grapefruit, and a faint saline edge derived from calcareous-clay soils and diurnal temperature swings (hot days, cool nights).

Historically developed under early 20th‑century vineyard expansion, vin gris became the city’s preferred sunset pour—an aperitif suited to Fez’s warm seasons. You’ll find it by the glass in licensed medina guesthouses and in the Ville Nouvelle’s cave à vins, poured well-chilled into tulip glasses. Locals pair it with fresh salads, zaalouk (roasted eggplant), grilled sardines, or goat cheeses from the Middle Atlas. The style’s success is practical: low tannin and crisp acidity refresh after a day exploring Fez el‑Bali’s lanes, yet it’s aromatic enough to complement cumin, preserved lemon, and coriander without fighting them.

Red wine around Fez draws on two nearby designations—Guerrouane and Beni M’Tir—plus the higher-standard Coteaux de l’Atlas. Traditional blends mix Carignan, Cinsault, and Grenache with newer plantings of Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Tempranillo. Grapes benefit from elevations roughly 450–700 meters and a continental-Mediterranean climate that concentrates flavor while preserving acidity. Expect 13–14.5% ABV, with profiles ranging from juicy red cherry and garrigue herbs to darker blackberry, cracked pepper, and cedar if barrel-aged.

These reds slot naturally into Fez’s cuisine: mechoui (slow-roasted lamb), kefta with ras el hanout, and prune-lamb tagines need fruit, spice, and moderate tannin rather than sheer power. In practice, you’ll encounter them in hotel restaurants, riad dining rooms, and licensed grills—the kind that offer brochettes and a carafe. Many estates now prefer temperature-controlled fermentations and gentle extraction, yielding cleaner, consistent wines. Order a youthful Guerrouane for bistro fare or a Syrah-led Coteaux de l’Atlas when the menu leans richer. Cooler months (late autumn to spring) are prime red-wine season in Fez, when evenings are crisp and slow braises come to the fore.

White wines from the Meknès–Fez area are less famous than vin gris but increasingly well-made. Colombard and Sauvignon Blanc deliver citrus and herb, while Chardonnay brings stone fruit and a rounder mid‑palate. Producers harvest early to retain acidity, press gently, and ferment cool in stainless steel; some attempt partial barrel aging for texture. Typical strength is 12–13% ABV. The best bottles smell of lime zest, green apple, fennel frond, and wet stone—flavors sharpened by the Saïss plain’s limestone and nighttime breezes off the Middle Atlas.

In Fez, whites appear where the menu turns to the sea: fried anchovies, chermoula-marinated fish, or preserved-lemon chicken. They’re poured very cold (8–10 °C) in licensed venues—riads with rooftops or modern dining rooms in the Ville Nouvelle. White wine fits the city’s climate logic: daytime heat asks for freshness, while clean, low-phenolic profiles avoid clashing with cumin, saffron, and coriander. If you spot an estate bottling from Coteaux de l’Atlas, expect a fuller, more gastronomic style; otherwise, IGP-level whites are crisp, uncomplicated, and ideal for an afternoon glass.

While not Moroccan in origin, pastis endures in Fez as a bar staple inherited from the Protectorate period (1912–1956). It’s an anise-flavored spirit (typically 40–45% ABV) made by macerating star anise, licorice root, and botanicals in neutral alcohol, often sweetened. The classic serve is the ‘louche’: one measure of pastis diluted with five parts cold water, sometimes over ice, which turns it opalescent and lowers strength in the glass to around 12–15% ABV. Aromas evoke fennel, anise, and an herbal bitterness that cleanses the palate.

You’ll encounter pastis in Fez’s licensed hotel lounges and a handful of old-school bars in the Ville Nouvelle, usually in the early evening before dinner. It suits summer heat, encourages a slow pace, and pairs with salted almonds or briny olives. The drink’s place in the city is cultural as much as gustatory—a reminder of a century of café life and aperitif rituals layered atop an older Moroccan urban fabric. For travelers, it’s a straightforward way to join the local rhythm: order, add water, and sip while the light softens over the Saïss.

Beer is the most casual alcoholic option in Fez, dominated by domestic lagers such as Flag Spéciale and Stork. These are pale, malt-forward beers brewed with barley (and sometimes adjuncts), filtered bright, and packaged for freshness; expect 4.5–5.2% ABV. Flavors are straightforward—white bread, light grain, a hint of herb from hops—and the serve is icy cold in frosted glasses or small bottles. On hot afternoons or after a hammam, that uncomplicated chill is the point.

Culturally, beer shows up where the city loosens its collar: sports bars in the Ville Nouvelle, hotel terraces, and licensed grill houses that plate kefta brochettes, merguez, or fries. It’s also the easiest purchase in a cave à vins, where locals pick up a few bottles alongside wine for home consumption. While not ‘traditional’ in the artisanal sense, lager has been part of urban drinking habits for decades, offering a low-commitment alternative to wine or spirits. If you want local, order Flag Spéciale; if you want low bitterness, Stork is softer. Both pair well with salty snacks and street‑style grilled meats.