Authenticity: an elusive, impossible concept. And yet, a compelling one. Those who have spent any amount of time pursuing an interest to the point that it becomes a passion understand that the greatest part of this adventure is the hope of encountering brief moments of authenticity. For the wine aficionado, nay lover, it is not uncommon for such moments to become the foundation for the most giving and engrossing memories.

My experience at Rey Fernando de Castilla has elusively found its way across the threshold and become one of those memories. My visit also became the lynchpin for my reflections on what authenticity means in wine, and more particularly, in sherry. Fernando de Castilla started two hundred years ago as a grower that would supply grapes to the sherry houses. In the 1960’s and 70’s they began producing bottles under their own label. In 2002 the family that owned the bodega sold it to several partners, including my host Jan Pettersen, who had himself worked at the bodega since 1983.

Jan, a Norwegian by birth, immediately struck me as a contemplative man, and as an individual bound tightly to the adventure of passion and authenticity. It turned out that my suspicions were correct, for it was Jan’s reflections on the history, business, style, and marketing of sherry that were the most insightful of not only my trip to Jerez but of my entire visit to Spain.

In fact, it was in my very first moments speaking to Jan that he confessed that sherry only found its full expression for him when it was paired with food:

The bodega itself was also a stark contrast to some of the larger more industrial complexes I encountered. Rather than perfectly delineated rows of barrels and a super efficient lay-out, Fernando de Castilla had a homier, cozier feel, with small rooms and modest numbers of barrels. As it turns out, these barrels were filled with some of the greatest sherries I experienced on my trip. The bodega is meticulous about its practices, and refuses to fine, clarify or aggressively filter any of its sherries. All of the sherries also come from individual soleras (rather than a blend of several) and are only bottled 1-3 times a year to ensure quality. For some wine lovers, such methods are often the mark of a winemakers passion for approaching something like authenticity since these sorts of methods help to ensure that it is the quality of the grapes and the maturation process that expresses itself in a wine rather than additives or an industrialized process.

With such exacting methods comes higher prices, and as such Fernando de Castilla has relied very much on niches rather than one huge market. In fact, they export their sherries to over 45 countries (sadly this does not include Canada, yet), and concentrate on placing their wines in restaurants that care passionately about their food. That said, it still strikes me as ridiculous that sherry is priced the way it is. ‘Higher prices’ in sherry often simply mean prices approximating the entry level for other fine wine categories. Except, with sherry you get the best of what is on offer rather than the introduction to that higher level.

I began my tour through the wonderful progression of soleras by tasting the “antique” Amontillado and Oloroso. However, it was my third taste of a truly ancient 40 year old Oloroso that isn’t even sold outside the winery that made me realize the attention to detail and sheer love of the craft that is the hallmark of Fernando de Castilla. And I would note that Jancis Robinson reportedly could not believe the quality of this very same sherry when she tasted it earlier in the year. Oh if only they bottled this special family reserve.

While many bodegas are relying on the relatively new VOS and VORS system to label their finest sherries (as I described in my previous posts in this series), Fernando de Castilla has never believed in this system. Jan explained that he feels that the VOS and VORS system does not accurately reflect what makes sherry so special – that is, the nature of the solera itself. Each solera has its own personality, and the precise age of a solera is not only somewhat besides the point, but it is not completely determinative of quality. Some younger sherries can actually outclass the older. For Jan, it was more important simply to distinguish between ‘old’ sherry and ‘young’ sherry. And, as such, Fernando de Castilla simply labels their older sherries as “antique”, eschewing the regulator’s VOS and VORS systems.

In fact, Jan explained to me that one of his wines, which was only 20 years old, passed the tasting panel’s test for a VORS sherry. Even as they offered him the classification, he refused. Why? Because he was more concerned with what he saw to be the authenticity of sherry than jumping on the bandwagon of a particular marketing initiative.

As for the antique Amontillado and Oloroso? They were wines of distinction and incredible complexity and richness coupled with elegance and expression. These are some of the most structured sherries I tasted in these styles and retained a refinement that many do not associate with sherry. If I had to rate them, which somehow does not seem apropos in this case, I would easily give them an Excellent rating. They are both somewhere around 30 euros a 500ml bottle.

My favourite of the antique sherries, however, was the Antique Palo Cortado. This was denser than the amontillado, but very balanced and long with nuts, herbs and a wonderful savory character. This wine is driven by finesse but also full body. It is, in effect, the perfect expression of the ideal form of sherry: full body, high acid, finesse, and an uncanny ability to pair with a wide range of foods. There is probably a good reason El Buli has this on their wine list. Excellent+.

The “antique” Pedro Ximenez had an astounding 500g of residual sugar and yet retained freshness and good acidity. The wines were getting so old under the old owners that they were evaporating more than they were selling. Luckily since Jan and his partners took over they have managed to increase sales to ensure that this wonderful wine will not disappear. This was one of the best dessert wines I have tasted to date and I could easily rate this at Excellent to Excellent+.

As any true Jerez-lover knows, this land is not all about Sherry. In fact, the Brandies of Jerez (traditionally aged in sherry casks), are one of only three officially regulated and controlled regions for Brandy in Europe, the others being Cognac and Armagnac. Fernando de Castilla is perhaps even better known for their brandies than their sherries, and as I tasted, these could rival many a fine Cognac, particularly the Unico, which has been brought into Ontario by the LCBO (but unfortunately not yet into BC). This is the kind of spirit with a limitless and protean finish that keeps you wondering and contemplating on each sip. And, as Jan attested, it is very fine with cigars.

Unlike most bodegas, Fernando de Castilla makes two finos. The first is made in the classic fresh style. Made in small batches, this is cleaner and less aggressive than many other finos – especially those that make it to North American shores. The balance and acidity are pinpoint. Excellent.

Contrary to popular belief, the finos made at Fernando de Castilla never see the loss of flor, as Jan explained to me:

The second, however, is one of the very few old-style finos that sees longer aging and higher alcohol than the new-style finos that have completely obliterated the existence of this venerable tradition. The “Antique” fino is richer and denser than traditional fino, but retains the great balance and finesse (as opposed to aggressiveness) of truly great fino. Basically, take everything that makes fino great and add complexity, depth, and a bit more alcohol (17% ABV). Excellent to Excellent+.

Fernando de Castilla also makes wine from muscatel, a grape that has been planted in Jerez for a while. I particularly enjoyed the young Muscatel Hechizo, which was made in a very light and aromatic style reminiscent of Austrian dessert wine. For the price (I think around 12 euros) I thought this was Excellent.

Finding the true heart of a matter is akin to Sisyphus’ trip up the mountainside. However, unlike Sisyphus, for the wine lover the journey is more pleasurable and revealing than tortuous (although some industry types might disagree). Rey Fernando de Castilla is a bodega offering one of the closest glimpses at authenticity that Jerez has to offer. These are wines that will change your perception of what sherry is all about; they are also wines that will undoubtedly start you on another journey through a style of wine that has somehow been pushed to the side by the accidents of history.

For this traveler, the particular series of accidents that led me to meeting Jan Pettersen at his bodega in Jerez on a cloudy day in April has now etched itself on my own personal journey to find authenticity in the world of wine.

The classical image of wine country is one of idyllic vines planted in serene and beautiful environments, and quaint winery buildings in which a passionate French guy offers you glass upon glass of delicious wine. Visiting a sherry bodega is completely unlike this pastoral scene. Situated in the town of Jerez, and therefore removed from the actual vineyards where the Palomino and Pedro Ximenez grapes are grown, the sherry bodegas rise out of the small and largely visually uninspiring town as strange and obscure beacons.

Taking a cab from my hotel and around the ring road that encircles Jerez towards my first appointment I was treated to vistas of factories, run down buildings and a general lack of coherence. Driving up to the Williams & Humbert ‘bodega’ was more like driving up to the corporate offices of a car manufacturing plant than anything resembling a winery. It was at this moment that I began wondering what Jerez was all about and whether I would be inspired during my visit.

However, the exterior of Jerez belies something much deeper and engaging – and it is only in the bodegas’ interiors that one can fully appreciate what sherry is all about. So, after meeting with Edward Butler, regional sales manager, in the office, we wandered over to the wine cellar itself. Stepping into this structure conjured images of the belly of a tanker filled to the brim with treasures destined for other lands. In fact, the Williams and Humbert ‘cellar’ is absolutely mammoth, spanning a full kilometer from end to end. With an annual production of one million bottles, it is not surprising that the facility is so vast. But to stand on a platform overlooking row upon row of soleras is a sight I will not forget.

However, as I alluded to in part I of this series, the antique barrels that comprise the solera system are unlike anything else in the wine world. These are truly creatures of mythology and the sight and smell of them invokes images of an *ancient* subterranean world.

Williams & Humbert is one of those Bodegas I alluded to in my first article in this series that was founded by one of the great British admirers of the fortified wines of Jerez. The legacy of the original founder, Sir Alexander Williams, was eventually acquired by the Medina family in the 1960’s and a Dutch multinational purchased half the shares in the late 1970’s. This partnership saw tremendous growth in the company, which became one of the leading exporters of Sherry. Recently in 2005 the Medina family required the 50% share held by the Dutch multinational and now fully control the company. It is clear that Williams & Humbert has always been business minded and focused on export markets, and so it was that I became very curious if the quality of their wines would stand up against some of the smaller and more artisanal producers.

I was led through my visit by Edward and an extremely passionate and friendly man. I found Edward to be both extremely engaging and an individual with an honest love for what he was doing. Big company or not, this is a rare thing and I really appreciated it. We were accompanied in our tour by the venenciador, a man with a stoic and prideful demeanor. As he poured me samples of sherry from a plethora of barrels (all of which he knew perfectly) his gravitas never waivered.

While touring and tasting from the casks I learned of the shockingly high annual rainfall in Jerez – not that much less than Vancouver. I also learned that W&H make wines both from grapes grown in their own vineyards (about 30% of production) and purchased via long term contracts. Interestingly, Williams & Humbert also maintain a full-on cooperage in their bodega in order to repair and maintain their greatest asset: the aging barrels themselves. They also serve as cooper to some smaller bodegas without such facilities.

The first wine I tasted out of cask was the Dry Sack Fino. This wine was bold with a huge flavour and high acid. The yeast brought a floral and fruity element to the wine that really impressed me. The yeast flavours underlay a savory and lightly nutty character. I also had a chance to taste the flor itself, which was a unique experience that demonstrated the particular qualities the yeast brings to the table. I would rate this as Very Good+ to Excellent. I would also note that the Dry Sack Manzanilla (not not the Fino) is now available in BC at the BCLDB for something like $15-$20 a bottle.

Up next was the 12 year old (average age) Williams & Humbert Collection Oloroso. This was one of Edward Butler’s favourite wines. For me this was all about balance and freshness with clean nutty flavours driven by acid. It’s unfortunate that we don’t have more opportunities to taste younger Oloroso compared to older Oloroso here in the province because there are dramatic differences that make each wine suitable for a completely different purpose and palate. This was made in a fully dry style. Excellent.

I also tasted the famous Dry Sack sherry, a cream style blended sherry. This was definitely good for the style and I can understand how this appeals to certain palates. It offered slight residual sugar which I think makes it more suitable as an aperitif than as a meal-based wine. Very Good.

The 12 year old Amontillado was drier and tarter than the Oloroso, but not quite as complex or deep. Very Good+ to Excellent.

I also got the opportunity to taste the Dry Sack Solera Especial, a 15 year old version of the classic Dry Sack. This was very long, deep, rich and balanced, and in fact it is the best cream sherry I’ve tasted and certainly the most balanced. Very Good+.

We moved over to a very cool product Williams & Humbert decided to produce as an attempt to be forward thinking and experimental. The Ron Dos Maderas PX is based on a rum imported from the Caribbean but then aged in the Solera system using sherry casks. This is aged for 3-5 years in Jerez in Pedro Ximenez casks. This is truly a superb rum with character that can rival very good scotch. I very much wanted to bring a bottle of this home but realized that it would fill my entire Canada Customs exemption. Too bad, because I rated this Excellent to Excellent+.

The final leg of my journey through the soleras led me to Williams & Humbert’s extremely serious VOS and VORS sherries. For those in the BC market who have only tasted such wines from Gonzalez Byass (which I would add are sweetened with Pedro Ximenez), these wines are traditional and very dry sherries that go far beyond what Byass offers.

The VORS (30 year old) Amontillado Jalifa was very dry and nutty and dense in colour and aroma, and yet light in the mouth. This is a wine geek wine and it offers tremendous complexity for the price. I would be shocked if you could find a wine as complex and as able to pair with cheese as this wine. Excellent and available now at the BCLDB for $25 a ½ bottle.

The VOS (20 year old) Dos Cortado is a Palo Cortado that was probably the most complex wine I tasted at Williams & Humbert and my personal favourite. This is a chameleon like wine with some serious depth and concentration. A wine geek wine par excellence and W&H was kind enough to offer a bottle of this for me to bring back. Unfortunately this is not available in BC right now. Excellent.

The VOS Don Guido Pedro Ximenez, however, is available in the province. If you have only tasted basic sweet sherry then you do not yet understand the depth, concentration and profundity that can be achieved with a truly great Pedro Ximenez. This wine is made for ice cream and is smooth, very balanced and has superb density. Yet, it does not sacrifice too much acid and avoids becoming cloying or gloppy. This style is one of the world’s long lost dessert wines. Excellent to Excellent+. $25 a ½ bottle at the BCLDB.

After tasting through a staggering range of sherries in nearly every style I found myself feeling surprisingly satisfied with the very high quality of wine I experienced across the entire range. While the top VOS and VORS wines are assuredly the best of the bunch, the dry sack Fino and Manzanilla surprised with the excellent quality for the style at a very reasonable price. More importantly, these are real sherries, and Williams & Humbert has avoided dumbing down their wines even while growing consistently as a company. Being large and maintaining honest quality is not an easy task, but this bodega has managed to achieve just that. An auspicious start to my visit.

The Imam calls for prayer, staccato syncopation, a glass of manzanilla – these are the pulses and memories of a land where Muslims, Christians and Jews once lived in harmony, even if only for a brief yet profound speck of time. Al-Andalus, now Andalusia, is one of the most interesting places in Europe. Jerez, or Sherry in English, situated in the heart of Andalusia, is one of the oldest wine regions in the world, with a history dating to the Moorish Caliphate in the 8th century, and perhaps even the Phoenecians.

After tasting through over a hundred wines while travelling across Spain made with grapes from every corner of the country, it was while I was sitting in Madrid listening to some mind-blowing Flamenco that I finally came to the conclusion that Sherry is the only wine that is wholly and fully Spanish. But, just like Spain, Sherry can sometimes get lost in its own excesses or in its complacency with its own history, and its simple, direct, ‘thereness’ – the basic fact that it has been where it is for centuries. However, this belies that what it is has been ever in flux. In essence, Sherry, as Spain, is a paradox.

Indeed, at one point in time Jerez/Xeres/Sherry used to be the foremost wine in the world. So much so that many other regions mimicked its fortified style, including Rueda and the Canary Islands. But Jerez’ history extends back further than that – it was a wine producing region in the first Caliphate of the Moors, one that was somehow left to survive when a later generation of much stricter anti-alcohol Moors from North Africa took control. Jerez was a great prize for the Christian reconquerors of the 15th century, and much later Jerez was much loved by the upper crust in the British Empire – England becoming Sherry’s biggest market. In fact, some Brits loved Sherry so much they set up shop in town with their own Bodegas.

Since then Sherry’s popularity began to decline as the world took a liking to more classic dry and red whites, which of course was aided much by the improvement in wine-making techniques that allowed non-fortified wines to actually taste good after a few days and with the introduction of modern bottling with corks, which allowed fine unfortified wines to be shipped across the ocean without fear. The producers of Jerez felt the depression in demand significantly as bodegas began to fail in the mid 20th century until recently. The late 1990s and early 2000s began to see a resurgence in international interest in Sherry and this is often where the story ends in most books and articles. However, Sherry’s newfound success pales in comparison to what it once was. And, it also elides some of the more important trends and developments that are going on in Sherry right now.

In the two days I spent in Jerez, a nearly unnoticeable industrial town a short train ride from such wonders as the Alhambra and the Mesquita, I met with five producers and tasted upwards of 60 Sherries. In all that time I got access to the true stories of Jerez and the struggles and debates that are changing the face of Sherry as much as they derive from its deep and complex history. From passion to industry, tradition to innovation, and boutique specialists to commercial mega-powers, Jerez is a land of contradictions, but also of truth and expression. And, somehow, despite and because of its struggles, its paradoxes and its utterly singular way of making wine, Jerez fashions a style of wine that I believe is the greatest in all of Spain.

This multi-part series will explore the wine-making, traditions, debates and producers of Jerez, and will attempt to tell what is one of the most utterly compelling but also frustratingly complex stories in the world of wine. But one thing is sure, the only place to start such a story is with what those form Jerez call the Solera.

The Solera: The Heart of Sherry

There are some things in life whose origins remain so obscured that any real speculation is rendered meaningless. It is from such mysterious beginnings that the Solera system of aging Sherry emerged. Out of all the producers I talked to and all the personalities in Jerez, no one seemed to know how or why the Solera developed. And yet, none failed to express that without the Solera there is no Sherry.

From a basic explanatory viewpoint, the Solera is a system of several barrels that range from oldest to youngest stacked one on top of the other. It is, in fact, only the oldest barrel at the bottom that is called the Solera, with the younger ones on top being relegated to the crib with the name Criadera (or cradle). The idea is that wine for bottling is drawn from the Solera and then replenished with wine from the Criadera directly above it, which itself is then replenished with wine from the youngest Criadera.

Understanding the basic structure of this ‘system’ is one thing, but seeing these ancient, almost geological, barrels in the flesh is another: they recall those fantastical earth and stone bound creatures that mythologies have been using for centuries to symbolize the irrepressible forces of earth and time. In many ways the Solera approximates the slow forces of geological time, but on a human scale – pulling from the young to deplete the old over vast stretches of time. Yet, the true beauty of the Solera is that the oldest contain small percentages of wine dating back to the very beginning of the Solera – in some cases this can be upwards of 100 years. In the greatest Sherries it is not a stretch to take pause and reflect on the fact that part of what you are drinking is truly ancient.

Of course, with such techniques new oak is anathema. Instead, producers use all old barrels, with mostly American and Spanish oak. In fact, these barrels are so treasured that some Bodegas even have on-site coopers to make sure the scaffolding of the entire Solera system – the barrels – is given the greatest lease on life.

But the Solera is nothing without the aging that it precipitates, which comes in two forms.

Organic vs. Oxidative Aging

Fino and Manzanilla: The Myths Dispelled

Contrary to popular opinion, not all sherries are oxidized. In fact, the famous styles Fino and Manzanilla are aged organically rather than oxidatively. These two styles of sherries develop under a coating of spontaneously formed ‘flor’ (yeast) that protects the wines from oxidation.

The traditional distinction between Fino and Manzanilla is that Fino comes from Jerez and Manzanilla from Sanlucar de Barameda. The traditional take is that Manzanillas are covered by flor for the entire year and Fino for 2/3 of the year, due to climactic differences. However, in my time in Jerez I discovered that this belief is a total myth. In any proper cellar in Jerez, the humidity is sufficient to maintain the flor for the entire year, meaning that Fino is protected from oxidation as much as Manzanilla. The climatic difference can account for a thicker layer of flor in Manzanilla, but it does not produce a fundamentally different style. In the end, these two styles are one and the same, but also distinct. They are united by their organic aging, and separated by the veracity of the flor that grows on them and the choice of techniques that vary from producer to producer.

And, as one important tidbit for those who don’t live anywhere near Jerez, these styles lose their vivacity and complexity as they sit in the bottle, so keep in mind that ½ bottles go off more quickly in these styles than full bottles.

Amontillado

Amontillado is a style of sherry created when the flor on the fino dies. The flor dies either when the fino is fortified or simply when it dies naturally and Amontillado is the result of subsequent oxidative aging. Thus, Amontillado is an aged Fino. Cheap ‘Amontillados’ are made in a blended style and sweetened and do not represent what is traditionally very dry and nutty.

Oloroso

Oloroso is the style of Sherry that never sees organic aging. These wines are fortified so as to prevent the growth of the flor and allow for full oxidative aging. As a result, Olorosos tend to be considered the most ageable sherries around. Again, this style is traditionally completely dry, although most of the ones on the market are sweetened and blended. Avoid those commercial styles as they do not represent what Sherry is all about. Oloroso is darker and fuller in body than Amontillado.

Palo Cortado

This style is a strange and unintended hybrid style. Palo Cortados are made with wine originally selected to be a Fino due to its greater finesse. For whatever reason, the flor on such wines fails to develop and they undergo fully oxidative aging. These wines therefore sit somewhere between Amontillado and Oloroso in flavour and body and because they occur spontaneously, these are the rarest sherries of all. This style also happens to be my personal favourite.

Pedro Ximenez

Whereas all of the previous styles of sherry are made with the Palomino grape, Pedro Ximenez (or PX) is its own grape and is prone to very high sugar content. This results in some extremely sweet dessert wines, the worst of which can be cloying and undrinkable. However, the best Pedro Ximenez (most of which tends to be older) can hold up to 300+ grams of sugar per litre and still have freshness and lively fruit. In fact, Pedro Ximenez, in my opinion, produces some of the best dessert wine in the world, and all for a mere fraction of the cost of wines such as Sauternes or Port. If you’ve ever tried vanilla icecream with a top notch PX, you know what I’m talking about. If not, you owe it to yourself to start.

Blended Styles

Often labeled as ‘cream’ sherries, these styles are blended and sweetened. While there are many commercial uninteresting cream sherries out there, a few producers are making interesting Sherries in this style, which was traditionally created for the export market. For my money, though, these are completely boring and uninteresting wines compared to the traditional dry styles.

Innovation and Quality

One of Sherry’s marketing difficulties is surely the complexity of its methods and styles, which are hard for consumers who know nothing about traditional wine making to appreciate. This perceived marketing gap led the regulator (led by a number of business savvy bodegas) to create the recent Very Old Sherry (VOS) and Very Old Rare Sherry (VORS) designations, which indicate that the Sherries are 20 and 30 years old respectively.

However, what few know is that these designations have not been accepted by all. To understand why it is first important to know that the ‘20’ and ‘30’ year old designations are based on an average age, since the very nature of the Solera system means that Sherry is made with a blend of wine of different ages. Second, the VOS and VORS designations are given to sherries not based on the meticulous notes of the bodegas as to the average age of a given Solera, but rather based on the decision of a tasting panel (who purport to also use carbon dating, but given what I learned the veracity of this is questionable).

To some of the staunchest traditionally-minded producers, the use of VOS and VORS dating systems undermines the very nature of the Solera, instead trying to approximate the vintage dating system used for most other styles of wine. To some, any marketing move should and must maintain the heart of what makes Sherry what it is. To pretend or approximate otherwise is to mislead the consumer and undersell what makes Sherry so special.

To take this debate even further, some producers have been aging and bottling vintage dated sherries – that is, sherries made with wine all from the same vintage. This, of course, is fully experimental and does not use the traditional Solera system at all. While some see this as offering another opportunity for the consumer to taste a different side of Sherry, for others it is more of an attempt to create rare prestige bottles for auctions than it is to produce anything distinctive. The staunch traditionalists maintain, with fervor, that Sherry is the Solera.

On the other end of the spectrum, many producers have eschewed the traditional manner of aging Fino sherry for longer periods of time in favour of a lower alcohol and fresher style. In fact, this ‘new’ style of Fino is so prevalent that almost nobody is producing the traditional style at all any more, which is richer, darker and more complex than most Fino. One producer I talked to bemoaned the industry’s forsaking of this fabulous style that has led to its near extinction. By paying too much attention to market demands, he argued, they lost a style of wine that was truly special.

In the end, it’s hard to tell who is right. Each side represents different visions of innovation and its relation to tradition. My personal and romantic predilections tend to side with the traditionalists, but I can understand the push to make Sherry a more marketable product since it still remains one of the great misunderstood wines of the world. In the end, what is important is for as many people as possible to taste the classically dry styled wines of Jerez in their full range and across as many producers as possible. It is only then that one will discover, as I did, the true breadth and complexity of the most neglected great wine in the world.

Consolidation and the Future of Sherry

The debate about the meaning of tradition and innovation does not end with labeling and wine-making, but as with most things enters the realm of big business in Jerez. The current trend in Jerez, and one that is not reported on much in North America, is towards consolidation. Huge holding companies and conglomerates are buying up all the small bodegas they can. This trend has been so severe that the number of bodegas in Jerez has dwindled in the last couple of decades, slipping from over 200 to a mere 30 today.

I met both with producers trying to buck this trend and with the behemoths who were making it happen. I discovered an industry that is in danger of losing the diversity that is necessary to keep any industry spry and adaptable. If consolidation goes any further, which it is almost inevitably going to do, then Sherry is in danger of losing its enigmatic soul and becoming a monolithic expression.

What needs to happen is for the independent producers that are still left to band together and start promoting tourism more aggressively. Right now, you could pull up to Jerez’ train station and not even know there was a wine industry in town. Many bodegas are only open by appointment and are incredibly awkward to get to and don’t have visitors tasting rooms. As an example, my attempts to visit one producer resulted in them changing schedules on me 3 times within the course of a single day, resulting in me being unable to visit the Bodega. I would add that the town itself is uninviting to most tourists and doesn’t seem to even realize that they exist.

What this attitude is doing is giving all the cards to the giant tour-friendly operators – namely Gonzalez Byass (and its mammoth Fino brand Tio Pepe), which is pretty much the only Bodega open on weekends with tourist friendly tours and tastings. My enquiries about this situation across town led to answers that blamed the general lackadaisical attitude towards business in Andalusia.

How can somewhere produce one of the greatest wines in the world and yet not seem to realize the potential this has? How can abandoned factories and buildings sit next to some of the most exciting wine making in Spain, if not the world? And most of all, how can hundreds of years of history culminate in such a frustrating and yet wonderful experience? These are the enigmas not only of Jerez, but also of Spain, a land where frustration and beauty waltz together with regularity. That this enigma can manifest sensually in a small glass of wine is what makes Sherry one of the most mysterious and yet profound beverages on the planet.

In the remainder of this series I will focus on the producers that I visited, their philosophies and their wines, all with the hope of connecting the disparate stars of Jerez into the constellation that is Sherry.