by Tilar J. Mazzeo –
In February, I fled. We looked at a map to see where in continental Europe had the warmest average temperatures; the algorithm came up with the south coast of Spain. When the ghost in the Delta machine told me that I could book a flight to Seville for 80,000 languishing post-Covid miles and $100 in taxes, I took it as a sign and decided it was high time that I reacquaint myself with Andalusian wines. That means, of course, sherry.
There are three towns in the “sherry triangle.” The seaside town of El Puerto de Santa Maria, on the outskirts of Cadiz, feels, to me, a bit too suburban. Jerez de la Frontera is the most famous of the sherry towns and full of history. Sherry is an art in itself, and there are dozens of variations and nuances, mostly depending on the concentration and age of the wines. The best way to get a taste is to head to one of the traditional bodegas that serve sherry direct from the casks, where flamenco draws in both locals and tourists. If you don’t get distracted first, that is, by the town’s Moorish hamman baths (www.hammamandalusi.com/en/about-us/) or by the fact that you can stay overnight for under €100 in an actual palace (www.palaciodelvirreylaserna.com/presentacion).
But sherry, flamenco, hamman and palaces aside, it’s the third of the sherry towns that is the must-see for me: Sanlúcar de Barrameda, named the 2022 Gastronomic Capital of Spain for its vibrant culinary scene. We could not be budged for a week and still ran out of time to explore everything.
The sherry here is Manzanilla, a dry, straw-colored wine, fortified, lightly oxidized, and made from the Palomino grape. In Spanish “Manzanilla” shares its meaning with the word for “chamomile,” of which it is said to be reminiscent. What really distinguishes Manzanilla, though, isn’t its herbal and apple notes but its light saltiness. There is no better aperitif to complement the seafood tapas that have made the town famous among the Spanish. Casa Balbino (www.facebook.com/casabalbino/) in particular is consistently ranked among the best traditional bars anywhere in Spain, and the walls are lined with scrawled signatures of generations of famous guests, but there is nowhere we tried in Sanlúcar where the seafood tapas were anything less than superb. The locals simply wouldn’t tolerate it, and Sanlúcar remains a place where the Spanish go on holiday.
Part of the distinctive sun-kissed saltiness of Manzanilla comes down to the coastal land on which the Palomino grape is grown, and part is down to the winemaking process. Manzanilla, like all sherries, is first produced as still wine, and throughout Sanlúcar today a simple but delightful Palomino white wine is served young and fresh at the tapas bars. A glass will set you back a couple of euro.
For the wine destined to become Manzanilla, this white Palomino wine is then fortified and aged, open to the air, until a delicate layer of wild, briny yeast covers the top of the barrel. The oxidation and the yeast give a nutty note to Manzanilla, and in Sanlúcar there are at least a half-dozen bodegas open for visits and wine tasting on oak barrels.
Not as well known outside Spain as it should be, Manzanilla is both relatively underpriced and under-valued on the global market. Here at home, you will find Manzanillas in local independent liquor stores and at the government stores, mostly in the $20 to $30 range. You will occasionally find a still Palomino, most priced around $20.
The best way to learn about sherry is to taste a variety of styles, because individual preference dictates whether it’s fino, oloroso, or amontillado that you fancy. So get together some friends this spring and try a backyard sherry tasting. These are wines made for finger food and sunshine. They are traditionally served with Iberian ham, nutty hard cheeses, brined olives, mild green peppers fried in batter, and as much fresh-from-the-docks seafood as you can tuck away. Or you can always run away to the south of Spain next winter.
