A different part of Spain for 10 days,  and this time the driver gets a rest.

We flew down on Monday, a 3.30am start, which gave us the whole day to acclimatise. Not that it was too difficult as Guido, Nicole and Veronica know this part of the country intimately, having grown up, married, studied and holidayed here since the Spanish Armada departed , washed up on Irish shores and never came back. Columbus also left from here , and he fared slightly better, at least making it home for some warmer weather.

This is the sherry triangle of Spain,  which is a relatively small area, maybe 10 miles by 20 miles, dedicated to that now not so popular drink. I have a 1914 solera Manzanillo at home, and before opening it decided to try a few (actually many) sherries to see if I could discern how a 104 year old sherry should taste.

 

Well it’s confusing …. firstly the names of the towns are not what an Englishman would expect. Jerez, is actually pronounced Hereth, Cadiz should be simple , but is Caddy (with maybe a little list at the end) and so it continues. Secondly there are two types of sherry, Fino, and the other ones. Fino is white, and sits in a barrel, about 3/4 full, with a crust (flor) which forms on top. The other ones are various shades of gorgeous browns, ranging from a light brown and dry tasting (allorosso) to the deepest brown which tastes like well ripened raisons, and has the consistency of marmite.

Another layer of complexity is cream or not cream, which sort of sits close to allorosso, but hasn’t the sharpness.

And to cap it all the sherry is sort of blended, taking from the bottom rack of bottles, and syphoning in from ones above. So 1914 is the date the first stack of barrels was filled up, and it’s been diluted ever since. It’s called the solera system.

So armed with the basics, we went sherry tasting ! Now unfortunately the Bodegas ( which roughly translates as alcoholic house as far as I can see) only do the tastings in the morning, and at 10 o’clock if you want the tour in English

Undeterred, and with three slices of toast for breakfast I bravely set of, and by 10.35 had four bottles to taste between the seven of us, since a couple of touring Irishmen had just washed up. Must admit it tasted divine, and glass for glass the differences were very noticeable, and cause for much “expert” debate , however by 1.35 it was time for a nap , or siesta as its called around here. I can see why it’s needed now ….

So the 1914 sits on the shelf, the guide, who seemed to know what he was talking about, said “better left unopened”, and unless I plan another siesta, and a day that finishes at 1.30 in the afternoon, with a hangover to follow , I’ll probably take his advice.