Sherry Time
Growing up in Charleston, I thought of sherry as “grandmother’s wine”—a dark, sweet tipple my elders poured from a crystal decanter and sipped from tiny glasses over dessert. I remember sherry also featured in some of my mother’s recipes, most memorably her she-crab soup. For whatever reason, I always assumed sherry was another one of the many British traditions that have long flavored Charleston life and culture. What I did not know, could never have imagined, is that sherry in fact hails from southern Spain, more specifically Jerez de la Frontera, the city that I would one day call my home.
The word “sherry” is an Anglicized version of “Jerez,” which itself derives from the Arabic “Sherish,” the name the Moors gave to this region more than a thousand years ago. Together with the nearby towns of El Puerto de Santa María and Sanlúcar de Barrameda, Jerez forms the “Sherry Triangle,” where white chalky albariza soils, mild Atlantic breezes, and generations upon generations of experience collaborate to produce wines so distinctive that they enjoy protected “designation of origin” (DO) status. By Spanish law, if the bottle says “sherry” (or jerez), it’s got to come from here.
As a fortified wine, sherry travels well—and has traveled widely. Both Magellan and Columbus are believed to have carried ample stocks of it on their assorted journeys, and sherry was reportedly the first wine to circumnavigate the globe. With the emergence of Spain as a maritime power in the 15th and 16th centuries, it became an important export.
So why have some of us always associated sherry with Great Britain? In 1587, after raiding the Spanish Armada at Cádiz, Sir Francis Drake returned to England with some three thousand barrels of the stuff. Soon enough, it had become a favored drink of the Elizabethan aristocracy, and was finding its way into the works of William Shakespeare. (My jogging route in Jerez takes me past a monolith which was erected to celebrate Shakespeare and his affection for sherry, and includes a quote from Henry IV in which Falstaff sings the wine’s praises.) Centuries later, British entrepreneurs in Spain would take a special interest in sherry production, as reflected in the names of local brands like Osborne, Harvey’s, Sandeman, and Williams and Humbert.
Today, life in the Sherry Triangle is inspired and informed by the wine that made it famous. A popular local breed of dog, the bodeguero andaluz, was first bred to help control rodent populations in the wine cellars. The annual Feria de la Manzanilla in Sanlúcar is a colorful weeklong tribute to the distinctive local manzanilla variety of sherry. (It concludes with El Lunes de Resaca, or “Hangover Monday,” a local holiday.) In Jerez the Fiesta de la Vendimia, or Harvest Festival, enlivens the streets of Jerez with a wide variety of cultural and gastronomic events staged to celebrate the annual grape harvest. Whatever the time of year, it’s hard to walk very far in any of the Sherry Triangle’s town centers without catching the sweet scent of oak-barreled sherry on the breeze.
In recent years, sherry has seen a surge in popularity among sommeliers, chefs, and bartenders, who appreciate the versatility of the wine engendered by the unique solera system of aging. First developed in the 18th century, the solera system involves blending small amounts of younger wine with older batches across a series of stacked barrels, a process which creates complex, consistent flavors and produces a wide variety of styles. At one end you’ll find the exceptionally dry, nearly pale-colored Fino (excellent with tapas), and at the other, the exceptionally sweet, molasses-dark Pedro Ximénez, which pairs nicely with desserts. Sitting comfortably in between, completing the palette, are nuttier Amontillados and Olorosos.
Which one is right for you? The best way to find out is to take a guided tour of one of the local wineries where sherry is aged, blended, and stored. (And on Fernweh’s Andalusian trip, you will, just after the equestrian show!) Known as bodegas, the wineries are designed with high ceilings, thick walls, and sand floors to regulate temperature and humidity. Many are beautifully maintained historical buildings which are worth a visit for the architecture alone. A guided tour is an ideal way to take in a bit of local history, learn the ins and outs of sherry production, and to get a literal taste of the many different varieties on offer. Later that evening, when you catch a flamenco show one of the local tabancos–taverns where sherry is sold out of the barrel—you’ll know just what to order.
Till next time,
Charlie
Raised in Charleston, SC, Charlie Geer currently lives in Andalusia, Spain. His work has appeared in various journals and magazines, including the Threepenny Review, The Sun Magazine, Tin House, the Southern Review, Garden and Gun, and McSweeney’s Internet Tendency. His novel Outbound: The Curious Secession of Latter-Day Charleston was published by River City Publishing in 2005, and his collection of essays in Spanish, ¿Qué Dices, Teacher?, was published by Plan B in 2020. Follow him online at @amerizano and at charliegeer.substack.com.