My New Friend, Sherry

The first time I drank sherry it was by accident. Then I couldn’t seem to get enough.

Picture springtime Sevilla at a tapas café whose sliding glass doors are wide open to easily allow in customers as well as the light, warm evening breeze. In addition to a bustling inside business, small round tables invite customers outside in the quieter cobblestone walkway. The menu is modest and traditional. The wine list only divides reds from whites, with hardly a familiar wine on the list. I close my eyes and pick what I think will be a cooling white, figuring it will be some permutation of the local favorite Muscat. But I don’t pay attention, and when the waiter brings a smaller, narrower glass cloudy from the chill of it being stored in a freezer and filled with ice cold manzanilla “La Goya” sherry, I am at first perplexed.

Don’t get me wrong, I had planned on tasting sherry on this trip, but not until I got to the land of sherry, Jerez. I’m so glad I didn’t wait. manzanilla sherry is the driest of the sherry types and noted for its brininess. In this case, the golden beverage (always served ultra cold) was crisp, light and perfect for the very warm evening in Spain. It shocked my senses such that I returned to the menu quickly to see if more sherry was available to taste. Sure enough, the majority of the wines at this particular location were sherry. Another manzanilla, and then I was into the more amber and sweeter sherry: Oloroso Alfonso and Solera 1847. This was not your grandmother’s idea of sherry, I’m pretty sure.

An introduction to Spain’s fortified wine

Learning about sherry is no easy task. Sherry ranges from very dry to cloyingly sweet, with approximately seven specific types to choose from: “fino-type” known as manzanilla, fino, amontillado, palo cortado and “oloroso-type” that are the darkest and sweetest known as oloroso, cream, and Pedro Ximénez. A tour in Jerez at the Tío Pepe bodega showed the solera system that is used to make sherry. All sherry starts out from pressed grapes that are fortified with grape spirits and then progressively mixed with sherry from previous years such that one cannot buy a specific vintage. It is always a mix of many years’ vintages. Newer casks sit upon older ones and are methodically mixed together to lend the older sherry’s depth to the newest characteristics. However, in the initial fermentation, fino-style sherry is stored in casks that are only partially filled to allow for a layer of yeasty “flor” that prevents oxidation and preserves a lighter color and drier flavor. While most sherry uses Palomino grapes, the oloroso and Pedro Ximénez tap raisin-like Pedro Ximénez grapes in varying amounts to produce very sweet wines that rival the complexity of fine Port, Sauterne or Tokij.

Grandma’s sherry

In February, Lettie Teague wrote in the Wall Street Journal of how restaurants and wine shops often buy sherry more for the proprietors and staff tastes than for the customers’. Indeed, at Commander’s Palace, one of New Orleans most famous restaurants, they go through 60 liters of sherry per week…making soup. And according to our Tío Pepe Tour Guide Roberto, it’s Brits who rival the Spanish in sherry consumption. However, in the United States, we more likely think of sherry as that bottle that sits around for ages saved only for cooking or consumed by little, old ladies who like a sweet drink in small amounts. Teague recounts a disappointing story of going to a bar, ordering sherry and receiving a glass of month-old Harvey’s Bristol Cream at room temperature. “Women love it,” the bartender tells her.

Only a month after Teague’s article ran, New York Times wine critic Eric Asimov countered with his own sherry piece that a revival is afoot in the United States and our taste buds are on the search for something old that is new again. I hope he’s right.

Sherry can be delicious – even cream sherry – but to enjoy what it has to offer it should be served icy cold and from a freshly opened bottle. Keeping an opened bottle more than 2-3 days will only lead to disappointment as I found out in the latter part of our Spanish adventure outside of sherry country, after I had grown accustomed to my sherry aperitif.

So here is my Andalucian takeaway. Give sherry a try. But do it right. Talk to wine gurus like the folks at Hinsdale Wine Cellars who can make sensible recommendations for your taste. Find yourself some marbled Serrano ham and mild Manchego queso and chill a bottle of sherry until you think it will almost freeze, despite the 22 percent alcohol levels that some of the sweetest sherry contains. Then on one of those spring nights that seems far too balmy to still be called spring, bring all these essential ingredients and a chilled glass out to your deck, terrace, balcony or front porch. Taste a little ham. Maybe some cheese. Sip the sherry. Close your eyes. And then tell me you can’t see Andalucia’s poetic olive trees and feel the Spanish sun kissing your cheeks. It’s magical.

– Ivy F. Kupec

 

Sangria: Spain’s Ingenious Wine Punch

The purposeful plucking of guitar strings filled with earnest emotion. An April sun that is so bright and warm that it pulls on one’s thirst as if it were the height of July in most places. And village streets that can overwhelm one with its scents of chorizo, garlicky shrimp and roasting meats. Ah, my senses are so looking forward to this overload as I prepare for a weeklong trip to Andalucia, Spain. What can I say? I am thinking about Spain’s beautiful rioja wines, complex sherries and sangria that just seems to celebrate life with its bright refreshment.

Every Tuesday is sangria night at The Cellar Door in Downers Grove, and they know that sangria transforms ordinary get-togethers into fun, festive fiestas. It’s true. Lucky for me, I will get to survey sangria and tapas in the part of Spain where both apparently originate. In honor of that upcoming excursion, I thought it would only be fitting to write about sangria.

Sangria’s supposed history

One of the problems of researching a drink so embedded in a culture is that information gets passed around much like children play that “telephone” party game. Thankfully, a book, Sangria: Fun and Festive Recipes, is available to set the record straight. According to author Mittie Helmich, the first recorded sangria is attributed to Romans who lived in Andalusia, the Spain’s southern coast, around 300 B.C., and who cooled themselves off with a nice little wine drink made from a young red wine, steeped with fresh local fruit and magnified by regional spices and other personalized flair.

But here is where it’s hard to distinguish fact from lore. Most say the word sangria comes from the Spanish word for blood, sangre, in a nod to the red wine used to make this drink. However, according to Helmich, lexicographers have hypothesized a Sanskrit derivation: sakkari means “sugared wine.”  Whatever the case, Americans reportedly didn’t get a good taste of sangria until it was introduced at the 1964 World’s Fair in New York City.

The right way to make sangria

As best as I can tell (having yet to talk to the “locals), there are only three rules to sangria.

1. Sangria must contain wine.

2. Sangria must contain fruit.

3. Sangria must be refreshingly chilled.

After those rules, it would seem almost anything goes. Although we think of sangria as a light red wine drink, sangria blanca employs white wine or even Spain’s wonderful sparkling wine, cava. Sangria fruits generally include apples, pears and citrus, but it’s clear that the Spanish focus on locally grown produce when making sangria. When plums, melons or peaches are in season, in sangria they go. In more tropical locales, one may see mango or pineapple or other local produce. The goal is to keep it fresh, using only the best fruit.

So, after the fruit and the wine, the craziness really begins. Some fortify their sangria with liqueurs or liquor. Others add fizzy mineral water to give it a little bounce. Spices, again generally of local origin, customize and regionalize sangria. According to Helmich, Mediterranean Spain’s concoctions utilize peaches, apricots, melons, cherries, grapes, oranges and pears from Barcelona and Valencia while tapping Catalonia’s cava or the ever-abundant riojas. However, in Andalusia, where Moors had a strong foothold, the sangrias may blend in sherry (it’s local, afterall), saffron, figs and dates with dry white wines, sweet Muscat or reds from Valdepeñas.

But the original American sangria, served in the 1964 World’s Fair Spanish Pavilion was introduced by Alberto Heras, who opened a tony restaurant on New York’s Park Avenue after his great success at the World’s Fair. Thanks to Jane and Michael Stern and their great book, American Gourmet, the recipe is presented for all to use and fiesta-ize their next dinner party or gathering:

1964 World’s Fair Sangria

Serves 4

1 bottle red Spanish wine

2 tbsp. sugar

1 lemon, cut into slices

½ orange, cut into slices

1 ounce Spanish brandy

1 ounce Cointreau

2 cups ice cubes

1 cup cold club soda

An hour before serving, pour wine into a large pitcher. Add sugar and mix well. Stir in lemon and orange slices, brandy and Cointreau. Chill until ready to serve. Just before serving, add ice cubes and club soda, stirring just enough to chill very well.

Obviously, there’s not a whole lot of fruit in this recipe, so like the Spanish, one is always free to extemporaneously deviate with more or different fruit and other choices for fortification. While the Sterns recommend you drink this sangria strained from its ice and fruit a la World’s Fair style, many other sangria lovers say, it’s up to you. Bottomline, the drink should be fresh, fruity and a whole lot of fun. Salud!

–Ivy Kupec

 

Riding La (Silver) Banana Rapida:My Winey Adventures in Northern Italy

Some folks go to Italy and travel around by train, bus, rental car, or maybe even a boat or gondola. Alas, that was not the case for me.  And now, when I visit Italy, all modes of transportation will seem immeasurably inadequate, save for La Banana Rapida, the yellow Audi that Antonio Sanguineti manages at a mere 170+ miles per hour on the Italian autostrada.

Ambassador to Italian wine and phenomenal Tuscan winemaker in his own right, Sanguineti was my trusty guide and fearless driver, proving YES, he can drive even faster (even when the Audi is a silver one!), as on the day we found ourselves heading 45 minutes closer to Switzerland rather than where we should have been going.

Italian Artisanal Wine

Many friends have asked about my recent trip that showcased small, artisanal Italian winemakers. Though we have a tasting planned for this week, I thought I would blog about some of the highlights. La (Silver) Banana Rapida was indeed an unforgettable, nail-biting experience, but just as memorable was the range of wines we tasted in Slovenia and the northern Italian wine regions of Friuli, Trentino, Piemonte and Valle d’Aosta.  Ah yes, they spanned from great to damn-I-can’t-get-enough-of-this-phenomenal-stuff.  That’s the range I like the best when it comes to wine. So, fasten your seatbelts because here’s the Sanguineti-quick summary of a wonderful wine adventure that included my good friend and president of the Pure Wine Company, Troy Clements.

Slovenia

Despite this being an Italian adventure, we started our trip in Slovenia, which is considered to be an up-and-coming wine region. While many up-and-comers can provide hit-or-miss wine experiences, we were not disappointed. In fact, the word that comes to mind when I recall the white wines we enjoyed at Edi Simčič is: awesome. I’m serious about this. Considered by many to be the best winemaker in Slovenia, Edi and his son Aleks produce wine very close to the Friuli wine region in Italy, but most will agree it tastes more French than Italian, having fermented and aged in oak rather than stainless steel. A dinner in a nearby castle added to the elegance of incredible Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc and a white blend that literally kept me asking for and drinking more.

Friuli

Our first taste of Italian wines included the rare wines of Miani.  Literally, the whole state of Illinois only receives 9-12 bottles from this winery, so it was an unbelievable treat to meet the unassuming Enzo Pontoni and taste his notable Sauvignon Blanc and other fine wines. Pontoni’s good friend Paolo Meroi met us next at Trattoria al Parco for lunch, where Meroi sells approximately 80 percent of the wine he makes.  Interestingly, the restaurant recalled my trip to Argentina because a parilla-like, open-hearth grill was set up with beef, sausages and other smoky, sizzling meats.

Trentino Alto Adige

And how does one top a morning like that?  Why drinking the unpretentious Italian sparkling wine, Prosecco, of course. Trevisiol offered three types of Prosecco, in addition to a sparkling Moscato wine, that were delightfully quaffable. That evening, we left Trentino for Veneto and the Valpolicella hills.  Producing only 100-200 cases of wine each year, Giuseppe Lonardi is known as one of the best Amarone producers.  However, he is also right in the heart of Valpolicella, and his Valpolicella wines are extraordinary.  I think it might have been at our dinner here that my poor friend learned the Italian word that is so similar to his name: Troy vs. troya. It suddenly explained the strange looks he had gotten upon introducing himself to Italians.  Not many would like announcing that their name is “Bitch” Clements.

Piemonte

Here we got a good helping of robust red Barbaresco and Barbera wines. At Poderi Elia, Frederico Stella and his grandfather Felice made us feel like family as we sampled these incredible Italian reds and they showed us around. At Tre Donne, where a trio of sisters rules this winery, we had more of these luscious Barbaresco and Barbera wines along with notable Moscato.

Valle d’Aosta

Another region, and two small winemakers once again dazzled us with their creations, but this time with the majestic backdrop of the Italian Alps.  At Lo Triolet, we lingered over Pinot Grigio and Gamay. Just west of Turin, we visited Anselmet where we sampled Chardonnay, Müller-Thurgau and several reds, despite the winery’s alpine location. Once again, the northern Italian cuisine treated us to meat-laden meals, homemade gnocchi, polenta and braised radicchio.

It was impossible not to fall in love with the simplicity of the food and artisanal winemaking in these regions. But, alas, it was time to return home. After a slight Banana Rapida detour towards Switzerland and train trip back to Verona and then Venice, my good friend Troya and I were nestled in airplane seats, reliving the sensory celebrations we’d had for nearly a week in northern Italy.

If you want a taste of this experience first hand, join us at the Hinsdale Wine Shop on Thursday, March 10, 7-9 p.m. to taste some of the wines we brought back along with light hors d’oeuvres. An RSVP is required for this $25/person event. To RSVP, e-mail sean@hinsdalecellars.com or call (630) 654-9862.

 

« Previous Page — Next Page »