Sherry: From Spain to Japan

Jerez is the Spain of legend. It's the Spain of flamenco, of horses, of bullfights, of shellfish, of wine. Of sherry.

The name "Jerez" refers both to the region and its wine. It came originally from the Phoenecian "Seres". The Phoenecians settled in the southern-Spanish region around 1100 BC.

Jerez the city is in the region of Andalucia, in the province of Cadiz. The capital of the Cadiz province is the most ancient city still standing in western Europe-- older than Rome, older than Paris.

Cadiz the city is a narrow spit of land in the Mediterranean, whose white-washed buildings shore up to the sea, and whose winding streets transport one back to the time of the Moors, who ruled southern Spain for over 400 years, from 711 to 1492.

The Arabic name for Jerez was Sherish, which became Xeres, and then, finally, the Castilian Jerez.

Jerez the drink, known to us anglophones as sherry, possesses a flavor that speaks of the terroir, the history, and the drama of the region.

Sherry is a fortified wine: its alcohol content is between 15.5 and 22% (standard table wine is usually 12-14%). Sherries are also oxidized-- they are, in a controlled manner, exposed to oxygen to varying degrees, a process that contributes to a flavor unlike any other wine. This oxidation is what gives sherry its nuttiness and, in heavier sherries, its brown color.

Sherry comes in many different types. From the lightest and most dry, to the heaviest and sweetest, these are: manzanillo, fino, amontillado, palo cortado, oloroso, cream, and Pedro Ximenez (named for the grape). The making of sherry involves two major elements: flor, the strange and unpredictable yellow foam of yeasts that forms on the surface, and solera, the complex stacked-barrel method of aging where newer vintages are progressively combined with older vintages until you could end up drinking a sherry that could partially be over a hundred years old.

Lighter sherries develop a thicker flor and are thus less oxidized. Heavier sherries develop a thinner flor, or no flor at all (alternatively, their flor may be removed). Flor is unpredictable, and a sherry maker has no idea if the wine he is making, if left alone, will become a fino or an amontillado. This mystery adds a whole extra dimension of romantic drama to sherry.

I've been obsessed with sherry for a while, but have more recently become so with sherry-based cocktails. All of the things I adore about sherry-- its dryness, its nuttiness-- have made it, for me, a very difficult base to work with. A lot of cocktails I blend with sherry end up tasting flat.

A happy coincidence led to my perfect sherry cocktail. Through a friend (whose blog I HIGHLY recommend), I signed on to design a cocktail for a blog called RecipeRelay. The premise is to use an ingredient from the last week's recipe, incorporate local ingredients, and develop something brand new. The recipe before me incorporated green tea. It turned out that simple syrup infused with Gyokuro green tea provided a perfect balance to a cocktail I'd been working on. The result was The Spanish Jade (click that link to read more about the cocktail and my progress developing it.)

The first sherry cocktail I tasted (or, rather, remembered and cared about tasting) was a concoction called the Bamboo Cocktail, first developed in Japan in the 19th century. NY bartender extraordinaire Kelly Slagle whipped this baby up during a cocktail class at Astor Center. I fell hard and fast.

The Bamboo Cocktail has a lovely, semi-sweet taste, with a dry finish. It's great for wine drinkers and works well as an apertif.

Adapted from the wondrous David Wondrich's book Imbibe!, with input from Kelly (who recommended Lillet in place of vermouth), I present the Bamboo Cocktail:

1.5 oz. dry (fino or manzanillo, inexpensive) sherry

1.5 oz. Lillet or Cocchi Americano (I prefer the latter)

2 dashes orange bitters

2 drops angostura bitters

Stir and serve up in a cocktail glass

Garnish with a lemon twist

Close your eyes and dream of flamenco, bullfighters and the hot sun of a Spanish sky.

* Most of my wine knowledge comes from the glorious Karen MacNeil's Wine Bible. I cannot recommend this book enough.