Merry for Sherry
I’m writing this on a Sunday, so a confessional seems somehow appropriate: I used to think I hated Sherry. There. I’ve said it.
It all began with my elderly Uncle’s drinks cabinet. Therein lurked all manner of austere looking bottles. It was a teenage foray into that dark recess that put me off Drambuie for life. And it’s from that same alcoholic abyss that a bottle of Sherry emerged, every Sunday lunchtime.
It was a Croft Pale Cream, in that distinctive green bottle. And I thought it was horrible.
Scroll on 30 years, and now I find myself evangelising
Scroll on 30 years, and now I find myself evangelising about the stuff. So why?
Pale Cream, designed for English palates, still wouldn’t be my first choice, but the reality is that my Uncle had it all wrong. Ideally, a dry Sherry best suits the pre-lunch moment; his bottle was kept in a cupboard for months (anything other than a very sweet one will lose its freshness after opening); it was served warm (it should be served chilled); and it was served without anything to nibble (Sherry is VERY much a food wine).
It has taken me a couple of decades to realise it, but the wonderful thing about Sherry is that there is one for every occasion. The dry ones – chiefly Fino (from Jerez) and Manzanilla (from Sanlucar de Barrameda, a few miles away) – are a sensational start to a meal. Served chilled, with a small bowl of Marcona almonds (the plumper, more rounded nuts from Spain), it might STILL be an acquired taste, but it’s definitely one you should acquire.
Trying to describe Sherry production in a paragraph is pretty tricky, but here goes: It’s a fortified wine, ranging between around 15 and 20% in volume. The dry versions are aged under a ‘flor’ (a thick layer of natural yeast-like growth that protects the wine from oxidising in the air, there’s a picture below), the medium versions – ranging from Amontillado, through Oloroso, to Palo Cortado – will have started life under a flor, but then been exposed to oxygen, giving them a browner colour and a richer, nuttier flavour. The sweeter versions are either blended with sweet grape juice (for the cheaper ones), or, in the case of the delicious unctuous Pedro Ximenez, made with PX grapes that have been dried (‘raisined’) in the sunshine to intensify their natural sweetness.
I would highly recommend a trip to the South of Spain, to experience ‘the Sherry Triangle’, which consists of Jerez de la Frontera, Sanlucar de Barrameda and El Puerto de Santa Maria. The latter two are closer to the sea, and each town has its own microclimate that influences the styles of Sherry produced.
All three are easily accessible from the port city of Cadiz, a fabulous labyrinthine place where its possible to get lost in a world of ancient, crowded Sherry bars, serving delicious tapas for a couple of Euros a pop.
Base yourself in Cadiz, if you like, and take day trips to the Sherry towns. Unlike vineyards, which are almost always in the countryside, the Sherry Bodegas are inside the city walls and they are well geared up for visitors. I’d enthusiastically recommend a trip to Gonzalez Byass, the home of the ‘Daddy of Sherry’, Tio Pepe.
I could go on, but I’m not Judith Chalmers, so I’ll leave it there.
I keep hearing that Sherry is “back in fashion”. The sales figures – after several decades in the doldrums – certainly suggest an uptick, and I would enthusiastically suggest you try falling in love with this wonderful drink, not least because it represents fantastic value for money.
‘things to try, and why’
So, some ‘things to try, and why’: I would kick off with one of the big name dry Sherries, either a Fino (Tio Pepe – around £10 for 75cl in all major retailers – is great, but so are the supermarket own brand versions like Taste the Difference Fino – Sainsbury’s £8, for 50cl) or a Manzanilla (La Gitana – also around £10 – is a great one).
I’d then recommend experimenting with the different styles I mentioned above. If you live in London, the wonderful Bar José, on Bermondsey Street is a great place to experiment (it also has the yummiest Pan con Tomate, by the way).
My favourite Sherry style is probably Amontillado (Delicado Amontillado – Waitrose, £14.99) which is still dry, but has that lovely nutty, slightly honeyed, taste you get from a bit of oxidisation.
Always serve it chilled, never let it languish for long in the fridge, and make sure you enjoy it with something salty to snack on. I guarantee you’ll be waxing lyrical, like me.