Sherry is an undervalued drink. Tom Doorley unlocks the secrets of Jerez, which include good companions for fruitcake
It's time for my annual prediction that sherry is going to be the Next Big Thing. So far, I've been wrong, but how much longer, I wonder, can wine lovers ignore the fact that the fortified wines of Jerez offer the best value on the planet?
The other day, I asked the guy behind the counter at my local Centra if he sold much Tio Pepe, the famous and brilliant dry fino. "Oh, not at lot," he said. "Most of the people who liked it are dead." He paused and added "Mind you, they all lived to a fine old age." Contrast that with my experience a few weeks ago at the Ballymaloe Cookery School, where I was teaching. We were tasting Tio Pepe and I asked the 60 people present, most of them under 25, if they liked it. Only four of them didn't.
I reckon the main problem with proper sherry - not the sickly stuff served in thimblefuls to near-teetotal elderly relations at Christmas - is that too few people ever taste it. And many of us have unpleasant memories of bland, big-brand stuff.
Fino is the freshest and, in some respects, the most austere sherry. Straw-coloured, with a whiff of yeast (some say a touch of Marmite) on the nose, it's bone dry, very grown-up indeed. Taste it chilled, but not frozen, and nibble a few olives or salted almonds. The most widely available version, and one of the best, is González Byass Tio Pepe (widely available, around €14). Valdespino Fino (€10.49, Oddbins, Dublin shops deliver nationwide) is little gentler, but still as dry as a bone. This impeccable wine, from one of Jerez's great names, costs about the same as a Chilean Sauvignon Blanc.
Fino is made in Jerez. The same style of wine, when made in Sanlucar, a few miles away on the coast, is called manzanilla. The distinctive salty tang of manzanilla is said to be due to the maritime influence, but the point is that it tastes good. Barbadillo Manzanilla (€11.95, Berry Bros & Rudd, 4 Harry Street, Dublin 2) is one of the best, lighter and a shade more delicate than Tio Pepe and with a mildly saline touch on the finish. There is simply nothing better with fresh crab.
Aged sherries are different. That fresh, zesty, tangy style that unlocks the palate and freshens it up is replaced by something much more complex. The colour changes, too; depending on how much time the wine has spent in wood, it varies from a light amber to deep, burnished mahogany.
Traditionally, we in Ireland drank these wines - amontillado, oloroso, cream - in a sweetened form. The sherries, made from the palomino grape, would be sweetened with dark and treacly Pedro Ximenez. It's been a long time since the famous brands delivered decent sweet sherry, but there are a few examples to be had if you search carefully. Valdespino 1842 Oloroso Viejo Dulce (€35, Searson's, Monkstown, Co Dublin) is outstanding. It tastes nutty, intense and just sweet enough to be the perfect partner to walnuts and blue cheese.
González Byass Matusalem Oloroso (€18, selected Superquinns, Bradley's of Cork, The Celtic Whiskey Shop, Dawson Street, Dublin, Greenacres of Wexford and Dungarvan Wine World) is sweeter and a little lighter in colour, but the concentration is phenomenal. If you drink it slowly, on its own, layer upon layer of flavour reveal themselves, but it's also a stunner with Christmas pudding or rich fruitcake.
Amontillado is an aged fino, and while the commercial versions are all sweetened, I think this style is best drunk dry. As the wine ages and becomes more intense, it develops a suggestion of sweetness that makes the standard tasting note "nutty" seem appropriate. González Byass Del Duque Amontillado (€18, stockists as before) is a case in point, but if you want to push the boat out, try Hidalgo Viejo Amontillado (€54.95, Berry Bros & Rudd).
Palo cortado is yet another style of sherry, and quite a rarity. The flor, a layer of yeast cells that grows on the surface of fino and gives it a distinctive character, doesn't appear on oloroso. It makes just a brief appearance on palo cortado, which is why such wine is a kind of half-way-house between amontillado and oloroso.
Lustau Peninsula Palo Cortado (€11.50, half bottle, Mitchell & Son, Kildare Street, Dublin and Glasthule, Co Dublin) is one of the best value sherries I've ever tasted. It is superb and positively contemplative on its own - indeed a friend of mine commented that it has the same capacity to kill conversation as a joint did in our student days. But it's also superb with grilled chorizo.
There are various versions of Pedro Ximenez (or PX) available. This is the wine used to sweeten sherry, and it's easy to see why. Even the best examples have plenty of sugar, but almost zero acidity. I prefer to pour it over ice cream rather than drink it.
A small amount of muscat is still grown around Jerez, but sherry made exclusively from it is very rare. Lustau Moscatel Superior Emilín (€22.95, Mitchell & Son) is weirdly wonderful. Very dark and treacly, it smells of old-fashioned marmalade and has a brown sugar and citrus character on the palate, with quite zippy acidity.