Tapas Tuesday Part II – Sherry to Make Merry?

While enjoying our Tapas Tuesday kick, I received an offer to sample a few bottles of sherry. Sherry’s popularity peaked in the 1970’s in the U.S., when every household seemed required by law to keep a bottle of cream sherry around for nightcaps and highballs. I cook with sherry all the time – it’s a fundamental component of many of my sauces and no chowder is complete without at least a splash of the stuff.

Neither are the sherries regularly found in tapas bars and Spanish restaurants around the world. The “drinking sherries” are somewhat more carefully constructed, usually quite old, and have a small yet passionate following in the world of small plates.

 

Sherry casks aging in "solera."

Years ago, back when blogging was considered cutting edge and I was just beginning my wine education, I did a rundown of the major types of sherry. I can honestly say that, at the time, none of the various styles agreed with my palate. Fast forward a bit, now that I’ve become slightly more refined in experience if not in practice, and I hoped the passage of years might have made me more appreciative of the stuff.

Before I get to that, though – let’s talk for a moment about what sherry is. The name “Sherry” is an Anglicized version of “Jerez” (pronounced “zhe-RETH”) -- the region in Spain from where this tipple hails.

Sherry is a type of fortified wine, which makes it a cousin to port, Marsala, and Madeira. In WineSpeak -- a "fortified" wine means that the winemaker's gone and added a bunch more alcohol, usually a neutral spirit like brandy, after the grapes have been fermented. This additional alcohol prevents the wine from spoiling, and allows the wine to be aged in barrel for a long period of time.  Most sherries are between 15-22% alcohol. Sherry is made largely from the Palomino grape, but other grapes called Pedro Ximénez and Moscatel are used in sweeter varieties.

Sherry has a fascinating method of production. Winemakers fill the large casks, known as butts about 80% full -- and then put the bung (translation: "big ass stopper which closes a cask") in loosely, so air can circulate during fermentation. While in the barrel, as much as 5% of the wine evaporates. As any veteran of a distillery tour can tell you, this is what's called "The Angel's Share."  

During the aging process, many types of sherry develop a solid layer of yeast, known as flor, on the surface of the wine in the barrel. This yeast layer slows the process of oxidation as the wine ages, preserving certain aspects of the flavor, as well as adding certain compounds called acetylaldehydes, which give sherry its “sharp” aroma.

As a part of the aging process, Sherry producers use what is called the "Solera System." Solera is Spanish for “on the ground.” In this process, as much of a third of a cask of sherry is drained and bottled, and the butt is refilled with younger wine made in the same style. This process is known as "refreshing the mother wine," and maintains consistency in the product from year to year. Sherries are aged a minimum of three years before bottling.

There are five basic types of sherry: Fino and Manzanilla are dry. Amontillado is aged for a minimum of  eight years and is dry to medium dry. Oloroso is also a medium dry sherry which is produced without the flor. Cream sherry is sweet. Fino and Manzanilla are made to be served well chilled. The others can be chilled slightly. (Also, Cream sherry is often poured over vanilla ice cream.)

For a summary of this information, Samantha at Colangelo provided this helpful infographic:

All you need to know about Sherry -- click to embiggen!

She also sent along two bottles -- Emilio Hidalgo Fino ($14) and Faraón Oloroso ($17) – to try alongside our Tuesday slate of various yummies.

Back to my hope for an evolution of my palate. The last time I did a sherry tasting was somewhere in 2007. Eight years later, I can honestly say that my sherry palate is largely unchanged. I just don’t think I’m programmed to appreciate it, as someone who has it as a “house spirit” on a regular basis would. The old “acquired taste” cliché applies firmly.

The fino, which was my favorite of the two, had a nice floral nose and an almost olive brine-type flavor. It was the most drinkable on its own, and it paired OK with the various olives and spreads that we’d assembled for dinner. But I wouldn’t exactly seek out that drinking experience. The oloroso – I simply wasn’t a fan. The darker, oxidized flavor had a nutty characteristic that was interesting – but it was largely overwhelmed by the jet fuel-y alcohol flavor.

I’m sure that there are many out there with more sophisticated sherry palates who might be able to guide me through the cultivation of an understanding of the stuff, but on my own, it just didn’t really resonate. There are so many good Spanish reds and whites – not to mention my beloved sparkler cava – which I would turn to in a tapas bar ahead of either of these.

That said, with the broad range of flavors and aromas in tapas – a higher-alcohol wine like this would be able to cut through most flavors. If you’d been out and found yourself at a tapas bar in the wee smalls, you might consider a glass of this to keep your evening rolling. As for me, bring me that split of cava and I’ll be a happy man.

Starting up the Summer

I had the good fortune last week to co-lead a tasting with my pal Danny Gold from Party Source. The theme of the tasting changed quite a bit during our planning stages. We thought about doing wines from every continent or just sticking to cabernet blends from all over – but neither of those really rang true.

We each ended up picking three wines that were relatively inexpensive and we “just liked.” To our sold-out crowd, this seemed to work just fine. Only after everything was over and done did I realize that we’d unknowingly cobbled together a pretty decent slate of beginning-of-summer bottles: two easy drinking and interesting whites, a couple of light and flexible reds, and a couple of bigger red wines suitable for grilling. So, Since Memorial Day and the “official start of summer” are upon us, without further ado:

Cucao 2009 Pedro Ximenez – This light white caught my eye because of the grape. “Pedro Ximenez” (or “PX”) is the name of a Spanish grape used largely in the production of Sherry. (If you recall, I haven’t had the greatest experiences with that particular tipple.) Certain grapes do interesting things when planted outside their native home. I’m a huge fan of Malbec, which was largely a minor French blending grape until it was planted in Argentina. I thought I’d take a chance and see what the soils of Chile might have contributed here.

Turns out that the Chilean terroir is very kind to PX. The nose is quite lovely, full of flowers and spice. It’s light bodied and quite acidic like a citrusy pinot grigio, but with an interesting melony flavor and a slight “briny” taste that echoed the not-unpleasant parts of Sherry. The finish is light and crisp. This would be a perfect summer porch day wine and the high acid content makes it a match with many summer cuisines – fish or shellfish, chicken, salads, light pastas. At around nine bucks, it’s a pretty complex, intriguing wine. Certainly worth a try. Vote for Pedro!

Terra di Briganti 2009 Sannio Falanghina – Danny’s selection was another “unfamiliar” grape – this time from Italy. I admitted being somewhat skeptical. My first experience with Falanghina was the wine sent by Savannah Samson a few years ago. It wasn’t, shall we say, the tastiest of whites. Danny knows his stuff, though. This one won me over. Another light bodied white, although with a somewhat creamier feel. The flavor brought more tropical fruits – peaches and pineapples – to the table. The finish was soft and pleasant with a nice little acidic zing. Goat cheeses would go nicely, as would richer fishes like trout or salmon. Lobster would be divine here. I also found it very drinkable on its own. If you’re a fan of Italian whites, give this a run at around $15.

Domaine Dupeuble 2009 Beaujolais – I make no secret of my love of Beaujolais in the summer. I ask you, what’s more perfect for a warm weather bottle than a light, easy-drinking red wines that pair with almost anything foodwise and taste best with a slight chill? Sign me up! The 2009 vintage in Beaujolais was, by all accounts, a year for the ages. Some of the best Beaujolais are being compared favorably to higher end Burgundy. The 2009’s are now readily available and you should snap them up if you’re into this sort of thing.

Off the bat, lovely waves of rich cherry flavor and a bit of smokiness greet you here. Most straight Beaujolais are nowhere near this “full” tasting. Great fruit, nice acid, and just an overall sense of well-balanced yumminess follows. There’s a lot to pull apart in this wine, but don’t work too hard on it. I think it’s best enjoyed as a whole, non-thinking “experience.”

French wine can be confusing, as I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions. One thing you can do is to check the bottle of a French (or Italian or anywhere, really) wine that you liked and check the name of the importer. This particular Beaujolais is a Kermit Lynch selection. I’ve had very good luck with almost anything that has his name on it. Around $13.

Tenuta delle Terre Nere 2009 Etna Rosso – Danny was stoked about pouring this. The Rosso is from vineyards on the side of Mount Etna in Sicily which were left fallow for decades. Winemaker Mark DeGrazia opened these vineyards and made this red from the indigenous Nerello grape. The grapes are grown at the highest elevation in Europe for growing red grapes in soil that’s basically volcanic ash. The method of production is almost identical to that used in Burgundy. The result is a light-bodied, fragrant, exceptionally tasty wine that strongly echoes the flavors of French pinot noir. It’s very well balanced, has a light earthiness to the flavor that I really enjoyed, along with layers of raspberry and minerals. I’d nestle it up nicely next to light red-sauced pastas, grilled fish, or something like a chicken/veal picatta. $15-18.

Charles Smith “The Velvet Devil” 2009 Washington State Merlot – I like throwing Charles Smith’s wines in tastings when I can, since they’re just fun wines. Smith, self-taught winemaker and former manager of Scandinavian death metal bands, has a number of wines in his “Modernist Project” set of offerings. Modernist Project wines (easily locatable in your store by the black and white labels and interesting names) are designed to be wines you can crack, pour, and drink – but that aren’t one-note, unbalanced wines. I think that this merlot is absolutely killer. Blackberry, cinnamon, dark chocolate – all blended and balanced. For a wine this sumptuous, it’s very easy to drink. Grill some meat. Pour this wine. Eat. Drink. You’ll be happy. You’ll also be happy if you want something with a chocolate-based dessert later on and you have a bottle of this on hand. And at around $10, you can afford a couple of bottles.

Thorn-Clarke 2009 “Shotfire” Shiraz – Danny wanted to finish up with a bang, so he dug into the Australian aisle and pulled out this monster of a red. The Shotfire is a jammy, high-alcohol shiraz. It checks in at around 16% alcohol, so make sure you give it a few minutes to catch its breath after you open it before you dip your nose in. You’re hit with big, plummy shiraz flavor backed with a white peppery finish. While you get some enormous flavors, I didn’t find them overwhelming. You just have to know what you’re in for and plan accordingly. If you’ve got yourself a slab of barbecue ribs or almost anything else with a rub or a sauce that you want outside, this is your wine. Like many Aussie Shiraz, it’s also a winner with chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Right around $15.

Drink up and enjoy!

 

Technorati Tags: wine,wine tasting,wine pairing

Prospero Año Nuevo!

The Sweet Partner in Crime hits a birthday milestone this year. She's long said she wanted to be "floating in the Mediterranean" then. Unfortunately, the collapse of the US dollar has made this an untenable scenario. If Barcelona weren't an option, we decided the least we could do was bring Spain to us.

In keeping with our New Year's Eve tradition of doing some experimental cooking, tasting scads of wine, discovering new pairings, and enjoying a mellow evening at home with Mooch, we forged ahead with a little Spanish feast for ourselves. The lineup for the evening:

Tapas:
Smoked Fish & Fruit Pintxos
Shrimp & Scallop Ceviche
Artichoke Hearts with Almonds & Figs
Mushroom Caps stuffed with Serrano Ham

Wines:
Gazela 2007 Vinho Verde ($4-6)
Marqués de Cácares 2005 Rioja Blanco ($6-8)
Martin Códax 2006 Albariño ($10-12)
Care 2006 Cabernet/Tempranillo Rosé ($8-10)
Albiker 2005 Rioja ($6-8)
Freixenet Brut Cordon Negro Cava ($8-10)
Alvear "Carlos VII" Amontillado Sherry ($22-25)

Primer Curso -- The Sherry Retasting
As you've undoubtedly noticed, the Amontillado is outside our price range. My good friend The Wizard of Covington and I have had a number of conversations about how many people's distaste for certain kinds of liquors came from not drinking "The Good." (The Wizard is now a fan of certain types of rum, scotch, and sake as a result…) Last year's New Year's tasting centered on Sherries. After that fiasco, I decided I'd get a recommendation on a better quality sherry before I wrote the beverage off. The Sweet Partner in Crime was dubious.

I poured a bit as an aperitif. The nose initially was pungent, but not unpleasant and somewhat nutty. I was hopeful. I sipped a bit. It was certainly better than some of the selections from last year, but "better" is a relative term. I could have drunk more of it, but it wouldn't have been my choice on its own. Perhaps with the food…

Segundo Curso -- Fishie, Fishie, Fish…
Our first course was the pintxos, which are skewers of tomatoes, berries, olives, and smoked fish splashed with lemon juice and sprinkled with fresh ground pepper. Our original thought was that the combination seemed peculiar, to say the least. On first taste, however, we discovered that the sweet, salty, smoky flavors meshed into something nigh unto spectacular.

We had this with the white Rioja and the Vinho Verde. (The latter is actually a Portuguese wine, since there's not a Spanish VV to be found in the Greater Cincinnati area.) The Vinho Verde (just like the last time I tasted it) was very light and crisp. The Rioja was fuller, fruitier, and slightly more "round." Both of them would make nice aperitifs both complimented the wonderful array of flavors on the skewers. The Rioja probably graded out slightly better for both of us, but neither disappointed.

Tercer Curso -- In the Raw
Next up was the ceviche. If you're not familiar, ceviche is seafood that's "cooked" by first blanching it in boiling water for a few seconds, then marinating it in lime and orange juice for several hours. The fish is then tossed with peppers, spices, and diced tomatoes. Both of us are big fans of this dish, and we were glad to see that we were able to properly replicate the scrumptious flavors.

We tried the ceviche with the first two wines, as well as the Albariño. On first taste, the Albariño was full of smooth pear and peach flavors, but still crisp and light. The finish wasn't as sharp as the other two wines. With the ceviche, though, there was no comparison. The Albariño blew the other two wines away. Arguably my favorite pairing of the evening. I can imagine that Albariño would be a good wine to have around for almost any occasion, as it's tasty on its own and superbly food friendly.

Cuarto Curso -- Dueling with the Wine Killer
We love artichokes but don't usually use them as the centerpiece of a course. As an ingredient in a dish, artichokes usually add a really nice flavor -- but on their own, the unique flavor is notoriously difficult to pair with wine. We were not going to be dissuaded, however, as artichokes are favorites both among residents of the Iberian Peninsula and our homestead.

The artichoke preparation was interesting -- pouring boiling water over the figs, letting them plump up for a few minutes, and then steeping saffron in the drained fig water. We then sautéed the artichokes briefly, added the saffron water, the figs, sliced almonds, some salt, and vinegar, and then cooked the whole mess until all the liquid was absorbed. The result was an extremely tasty concoction.

On the side, we had what turned out to be a very tasty rosé. This wine had more body than a lot of rosés. It was almost more of a "light red" than a pink wine. It was fruity and a little acidic, but had a "roundness" that I think came from the cabernet in the blend. Very flavorful. Alas, the two great tastes didn't taste great together. No matter what we tried it with, the artichokes made everything turn bitter. The rosé and the Vinho Verde were the best bets. The Albariño and the white Rioja would not be recommended. And the Sherry? Ew. Just ew.

Quinto Curso -- Getting stuffed
The last official course of the evening was mushroom caps stuffed with diced Serrano ham, parsley, and peppers and then baked. The base flavors were great, but, unfortunately, we added a bit too much dried pepper. The heat of the filling came close to overwhelming the really interesting combination of flavors, but we managed.

The Rioja was quite a contrast to the lighter styled wines we'd had earlier in the evening. After the whites and the rosé, a mouthful of tannin and berries came as a shock -- albeit a very pleasant shock. The nose had plenty of plummy fruit, the body was full, and the finish was medium in both length and dryness. Very pleasant.

If we'd cut back on the heat a bit, the Rioja probably would have been the better pairing, but the rosé turned out to be quite nice. The acidity cut through the heat and brought up the flavor more strongly, but it wasn't for the faint of heart. I once again braved the sherry. All it did was intensify the heat, sending me to the kitchen for a spoon of lime juice to cool everything down. The sherry will likely go down as the most expensive bottle of cooking wine I've ever purchased.

Sexto Curso -- Ringing in 2008
Our meal complete, we settled in to watch the ball drop. We switched back and forth between Dick Clark and some random X-Games dude jumping a football field on his motorcycle twice. At the stroke of midnight, we did need some bubbly -- and I went with my old standby, Freixenet cava. Fresh and crisp, this is one of my favorite sparkling wines. After a glass to start the year in a sparkling manner, we discovered that the flavor-cutting tendencies of sparkling wine made it the best pairing of the evening for both the blazin' mushrooms and the artichokes.

(Yes, I know it's not the right toast -- we don't have "Salud" glasses…)

Not long after, we called it quits. I put a stopper in the cava to save it for New Year's mimosas; we cleaned up the kitchen more or less, and crashed. I can only hope that the rest of 2008 is as much fun as New Year's Eve was (and we will get ourselves to Spain at some point), and I hope all of you started the year out on a good foot. Welcome to 2008, everyone!

Salud y amor!

Avoiding the White Death -- Snowed-In Wines

One of our great winter amusements is watching the inevitable freak-out at the first sign of anything resembling snowy weather. Every local news scrambles "full team coverage," which amounts to second-string reporters bundled up at interstate rest areas and weathermen standing by snowbanks with rulers, all speaking in earnest, serious tones.

Lines at grocery stores run out the door as everyone stocks up on necessary supplies -- bread, milk, eggs -- in case the weather gets so nasty that we're stranded for nine or ten hours. As one friend of mine put it, "What is it about snow forecasts that gives people a craving for French toast?"

Nine times out of ten, the "storm" ends up being a whimper rather than a bang -- slush and a couple of inches of powder you can hardly make an honest snowball with. Even so, be prepared. Here are a couple of suggestions for getting yourself through those interminable minutes of imprisoning by Mother Nature.

Hardy's "Whiskers Blake" Classic Tawny Port -- In many winter tales, a narrator sits down with a glass of port to warm up on a long, cold night. Port is fortified wine. Fortified wines are fermented normally. A neutral brandy is then added to boost the alcohol content. Ports tend to be sweet, heavy wines -- often over 18% alcohol. There are two major port types. Ruby port is the most common. This is the least expensive, sweetest, and youngest type. Tawny port is aged at least seven years in barrels, is much more mellow and complex, and is usually golden brown in color instead of…well…ruby. Port originated in Portugal (big surprise!), but this one is Australian. While sweet, it's not as tooth-achingly sugary as many ports of similar price. Whiskers has a nice fruitiness along with a tasty caramel flavor. The finish has just a hint of sweetness and cozy warmth. With dark chocolate truffles, this is an absolutely divine winter drink. Curl up with a thick blanket, a huggable dog, and a fire and watch the snow fall. Around $12.

Santa Ema 2004 Maipo Valley Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve-- If you're looking for a "standard" wine to warm you up, I find cabernet sauvignon to be the most satisfying. This Chilean cabernet is wonderful for keeping the winter chill at bay. The nose has thick plum and cherry scents, bordering on zinfandel-strong. The flavor is much more balanced than most zinfandels. The Santa Ema medium bodied with more plums and a little bit of licorice on the finish to go with the pleasant dryness. Also, since it's summertime in Chile while we're suffering through winter, simply imagine you're chasing the sun. $8-10.

Some traditional beverages at this time of year are wine-based. In the name of research and emergency preparedness, I managed to come up with a couple of these recipes that turned out pretty well:

Mike's Wassail

• One fifth dry sherry
• One cup brandy
• 4-5 cups apple cider
• Couple of cinnamon sticks
• Nutmeg, ginger, coriander, allspice -- 1-2 tsp. each
• One orange, cut in half and studded with a dozen cloves
• 1 c. brown sugar

If you were reading the Vine last New Year's, you'll know that we didn't have a great sherry experience. Here's one tasty use. Put all the ingredients into slow cooker, reserving half the orange. Put slow cooker on high for 2-3 hours. Leave on low or warm. (If you don't have a slow cooker, put in a big pot on the stove, put on low, and stir occasionally for a couple of hours.) Serve hot with orange slices and firmly baked apples. If you don't drink it all (ha!), it keeps well.

Mike's Mulled Wine

• One bottle really cheap dry red wine
• 1 c. brown sugar
• 1 tsp. Ground ginger
• 1 tsp. Crystallized ginger
• ½ tsp. Nutmeg, allspice, & cinnamon (or to taste)
• 1 bay leaf
• Orange, cut, half studded with cloves, other half peeled and sectioned
• 1 lemon, juiced and rind cut into thin strips
• ½ c. brandy

To "mull" something is to grind or mix thoroughly. Mulled wine is wine well-mixed with spices and such to create a scrumptious delivery system for winter warmth. To make mulled wine (called Glögg in Swedish or Glühwein in German), combine all ingredients except brandy in a slow cooker. Cook on low for 3 hours. Stir in brandy. Strain and serve hot.

So, let it snow! As long as you've got a few bottles stashed away, that is…

Happy Festivus! See you in 2008!

"For the Love of God, Montresor..." -- Adventures in Sherry

The Sweet Partner in Crime and I have our New Year's tradition. Going out on the Rockin' Eve does little for either of us. As a friend of mine once said of New Year's -- "It's Amateur Night."

We tend to be homebodies on December 31^st. We watch some basketball and some football -- and then settle in to making a big ol’ feed to pair with wines we haven't tried before. This year, we decided we'd try some sherries.

Sherry -- the name evokes images of deep shag carpet, wide lapels, ruffled blouses, and key parties. The quintessential 70's drink, every household was required by law to have at least one bottle of cream sherry on hand for highballs and nightcaps. Alternatively, there's usually a bottle of cooking sherry in any well stocked pantry. After our pleasant sojourns with Spanish wine, I thought it would be an interesting experiment to try the native Iberian drink.

What is sherry, anyway?

Preventing Fortunado from
driving drunk on New Years.

Sherry is fortified wine. In WineSpeak -- a "fortified" wine means that the winemaker's gone and added a bunch more alcohol. Many sherries are right around 18-20% alcohol. Sherry is made largely from the Palomino grape, but there's another grape called Pedro Ximénez often used in sweeter varieties. "Sherry" is also the region in Spain where all this wine is made ("Sherry" is a Anglization of "Jerez.")

Sherry is fascinating because of the method of production. Most winemakers do everything they can to keep their wine from air while fermenting. Sherry is an oxidized wine -- the winemakers fill the casks only halfway -- and then put the bung (translation: "big ass stopper which closes a cask") in loosely, so air can circulate during fermentation. While in the barrel, as much as 5% of the wine evaporates. As any veteran of a distillery tour can tell you, this is what's called "The Angel's Share." (which also happens to be a Ted Leo song title)

There's also what they call the "Solera System" of aging, by which an aged cask may be drained of as much of a third of its contents, and then young wine, made in the same style, is added to refill the cask, thus "refreshing the mother wine."

There are five basic types of sherry: Fino and Manzanilla are dry. Amontillado is aged for eight years and is dry to medium dry. Oloroso is also a medium dry sherry. Cream sherry is sweet. Fino and Manzanilla are made to be served well chilled. The others can be chilled slightly. (Also, Cream sherry is often poured over vanilla ice cream.)

Truth be told, it was the Amontillado that gave birth to this idea. As a recovering English major, Edgar Allan Poe, The Bard of Baltimore, was a favorite of mine. One of his signature short stories was "The Cask of Amontillado." (If you'd like to read it, go here for the full text. You can get through it in 10 minutes or less.)

Sherry is traditionally served in Spain with tapas. The SP in Crime and I are huge tapas fans, so we decided to have a meal in that style. If you're not familiar with tapas, it's basically scads of "small plate" appetizers. (A close Asian equivalent is dim sum, which we also love) We got ourselves some smoked salmon, a fish chowder (inspired by our Maine adventure), and a sort of semi-bruschetta with fresh mozzarella and chorizo. We got three bottles of Sherry. There's a saying in Spain regarding this wine: "We drink the dry and ship the sweet." So, we picked up a Fino, a Manzanilla, and (to satisfy my curiosity) an Amontillado.

We were…shall we say…surprised at what we found.

The first bottle we tried was Osborne Pale Dry Fino. The label doesn't lie -- this is a very light-colored wine. This sherry actually had a very nice nose -- a nice scent of almond oil. The taste was very neutral and dry. There wasn't a lot of flavor to it -- just a neutral alcohol taste that wasn't too strong. I realized why dry sherry and tapas go together so well. This type of sherry would be an excellent palate cleanser. It cut right through the oil of the salmon, and if it could do that, it would do the same with just about anything else. You could easily switch from food to food without a problem. In addition, the high alcohol content would make for a good start to any evening. This was, by far, the most drinkable of the sherries that we had. I could actually see pouring a glass of this with food. A bottle goes for about $10.

We bowled up the chowder and poured the Savory & James Deluxe Pale Dry Manzanilla.

Again, the sherry was very pale in color. The taste and bouquet were somewhat similar to the Fino, although it seemed slightly "wetter." It reminded me a bit of sake. If you like sake, I would imagine that you could pair this up with a plateful of sushi and you'd be OK. Otherwise, well…not so much. We did a side by side with the Fino, and the Fino was markedly more tasty. However, the chowder lacked something after a few bites, so I poured in a few splashes of the Manzanilla. What a difference! The soup took on a new, tastier character with a little Manzanilla added. However, for my $10, I could buy three bottles of cooking sherry.

We read that the Amontillado was better served with slightly heavier foods, so we had it with the semi-chetta. After being a little disappointed with the first two sherries, I was ready for an upswing. I wanted to know why poor Fortunado was tempted to his death by a cask of the stuff. We poured some Pedro Romero Amontillado. This wine was much darker than the other two. Since both Amontillado and Oloroso are aged longer, the tannins in the barrels impart a darker color. There was also a more pronounced bouquet -- reminding me very much of Madeira. Much more sugary and nutty. I was interested -- until I got the stuff in my mouth. Maybe I'm missing something, but this tasted like cooking sherry mixed subtly with paint thinner and lighter fluid. The taste almost made the SP in Crime gag.

From what I've read, Amontillado is supposed to be "darker and softer" than fino. I guess that's true -- in the same way that death by billy club is softer and darker than a strike through the heart with a rapier. This was about a $12 bottle. In the spirit of full disclosure, most wines that I don't care for end up as cooking wine. The number of bottles I’ve dumped can be counted on one hand. This Amontillado made the list. Perhaps I don't have the correct palate for it, but this was simply horrid.

I admit -- I'm a Sherry newbie. I don't know "good" sherry from "bad" -- and if any of you out there can give me better ideas, I'm open to suggestion. I don't know if I made poor choices or if I just don't know how to properly appreciate the stuff. However, with so much delicious Spanish tempranillo, albarino, and the like -- I don't see putting more money into the Sherry region anytime soon.

Oh, and don't worry about us going dry on New Year’s. Since the Sherry Experiment didn't work out -- we pulled some tasty selections from the cellar to more properly celebrate.

And no one got shackled to a wall.

Auld Lang Syne!