Sherry picking

The fortunes of this fortified wine rise and fall like the bow of a Spanish galleon – so what is behind this much-maligned drink’s current revival?

- GABRIEL STONE

What does sherry mean to you? Banish thoughts of some stale, sickly confection. Turn your imagination instead to the thunder of thoroughbred hooves racing along a beach, fishing boats bobbing behind, flamingos in formation overhead and a crowd whose attire covers the full spectrum from bikinis to Glorious Goodwood. Or picture a lunchtime spread overflowing with garlicky prawns and gleaming slivers of cured ham. Come winter, take shelter from the elements and hand round a restorative hip flask, your hand perhaps slipping as it passes a mug of consommé. For anyone lucky enough to have been nibbled by the sherry bug, none of these scenarios is complete without the presence of either a cool, saline manzanilla or an equally bonedry, nutty amontillado. Dry is the key here. There are indeed some glorious sweet sherries and even the much-maligned cream styles can have their moment on a soggy afternoon with a slice of fruit cake, but they tend to lack the mouth-watering gastronomic appeal of their dry counterparts. Certainly, in the bars of sunny Seville or Jerez, sherry is almost synonymous with either fino or its more delicate sister, manzanilla. At more northerly latitudes, the darker, oxidative styles – amontillado, palo cortado and oloroso – often prove a better match for both climate and cuisine.