Wine & Food

Tapas are hardly conceivable without Sherry. Order a Fino at a bar in Jerez, and you'll often be brought a little something along with it, unasked: thin slices of Jamón Ibérico, a few olives or toasted almonds. Salt and fat need acidity, and a dry Fino delivers plenty of it, without ever feeling heavy itself.

In Sanlúcar de Barrameda, Manzanilla is a natural partner to Langostinos, the large prawns from the mouth of the Guadalquivir. Then there are Tortillitas de camarones, wafer-thin fried shrimp fritters. Both grow, quite literally, on the same shore where the wine matures. Manzanilla takes on precisely the same salty freshness of the Atlantic air that gives the shrimp their flavor.

Pescaíto Frito, small fish fried in oil, also calls for Fino or Manzanilla. A heavier wine would be out of place here. The acidity cuts through the fat of the batter, much like a splash of lemon—except here the effect comes from the glass rather than the kitchen.

An aged Oloroso pairs with entirely different dishes: braised game, sautéed mushrooms, long-matured cheese. Here it's not acidity against fat, but weight against weight. The toasty, nutty notes of the Oloroso hold their own alongside rich, umami-laden dishes without being overwhelmed by them.

And then there's Pedro Ximénez, thick and dark as molasses. It doesn't sit beside dessert—it is dessert. Simply poured over vanilla ice cream, it replaces any sauce. One spoonful shows just how far a single Marco de Jerez can stretch—from the driest Fino at the bar to this glass, sweeter than any dessert you could order alongside it.