Posted by Sasha Grigorieva in beverages, wine on June 23, 2007 at 2:14 pm

I've been fascinated by sherry for quite a while even though the first I ever tried was the rather cloying and simple Harvey’s Bristol Cream (oh, the lovely massive bottle, I was so impressed by its blue splendour in my late teens!). And then there were the magnificent proud names one stumbled upon from time to time: Amontillado, Oloroso, Manzanilla; that somehow evoked the atmosphere of pirates and adventure stories one read in one’s childhood.

But it was during a bus trip through Spain that I had my final sherry eye-opener. We stopped at a small dingy road bar in Andalusia, the most southern part of Spain, homeland of gazpacho, flamenco, and, yes, sherry, or jerez as it is called down there, after the Jerez de la Frontera municipality, where this unique wine has been produced for many a century. I watched the workmen knocking back glasses of chilled Manzanilla and snacking on varied bite-size tapas: plump wedges of cold potato omelette (the original, Spanish tortilla), delicate slices of pickled octopus, olive medley and many, many more. It did not take me long to follow the example. A heady draught of deliciously cool and very dry limpid wine with a faint aroma of toasted nuts and freshly baked bread took me completely by surprise. From this time onward I never missed a chance to grab a glass of sherry in a Spanish bar. I finally learned the difference between Oloroso and Amontillado, discovered the best temperature for serving Manzanilla and so on.

So I was very happy to discover all kinds of sherry at the LCBO when I came to Toronto, and to be able to throw an occasional sherry and tapas party in consequence. Sherry is usually made from Palomino (dry sherry) or Palomino and Pedro Ximénez (sweet sherry), fortified after fermentation and then matured under a peculiar to sherry natural yeast cover called “flor” (some of them like Oloroso do without this), and most sherry varieties are aged in oak cask solera system with some exposure to air.

Very dry and pale Fino sherry (for exuample the classic Tio Pepe of González Byass company) from Jerez and its cousin Manzanilla from the neighbouring Sanlúcar de Barrameda are at their best when served chilled in the manner of white wines. They both have fresh, vivid bouqets (Manzanilla may have an additional slight sea-tang) and are good as an aperitif. They can also accompany certain tapas. Cream sherry, East India sherry etc. are very sweet, amber-coloured and usually presented on the rocks. Sweet sherries are often partnered with sophisticated coffee, caramel and chocolate-based desserts.

But my favourite is Amontillado sherry, matured in solera under “flor”, darker, richer and less dry than Fino. Another variety, Oloroso is matured in solera without protective “flor” and so is more open to air and is even browner than Amontillado. It is often sweetened before bottling and used as a base for cream sherries. There is also a rare Palo Cortado sherry variety that combines both Amontillado and Oloroso characteristics and shows both sides of its personality to the best advantage. These sherries are very good served at room temperature and matched with rich, creamy dishes, and may also be quite equal to facing some not overly-spicy Oriental cooking styles. In fact, one can accompany a whole festive dinner with different sherry varieties, from aperitif to digestif (that had better be sherry brandy, of course).

It is also thought by some authorities that sherry is one of the very few high quality wines that may tolerate cigarette smoke without any harm to its bouquet and may be matched harmoniously with nicotine inhaling (much like coffee and cigarettes) but as I don’t smoke I can’t verify this statement.

Old sherry casks are used to mature Spanish brandy (in this case it becomes Sherry brandy) and certain Scotch whiskies. They also gave birth to the flavourful sherry vinegar that has become quite fashionable in the last few decades. And of course sherry is brilliant for cooking purposes (there was a time when it was widely recommended as a substitute for rice wine in Chinese and other Oriental dishes), especially deglazing (sherry and cream sauces done this way are particularly alluring), not to mention British Christmas cake and pudding. One of my favourite sherry recipes is an old-fashioned English dessert called syllabub, that is cream whipped with a little sherry, a sprinkle of sugar, lemon zest and nutmeg – it is especially pleasant when served with macaroons that have a hint of bitter almond, an exquisite dessert period piece.

In short, sherry (that was mostly called sack in England a few centuries ago), is a wine for all occasions. As Shakespeare's Falstaff once said: “If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack”. Well, I surely wouldn’t refuse all thin potations, but sack a.k.a. sherry is definitely addictive notwithstanding.