Tio Pepe and I are now good friends. The jaunty little hat, the guitar, the drinks. For those who have never sipped a sherry, the Tio Pepe bodega has been producing fine sherry and brandy in Jerez de La Frontera since 1835. And a little sherry bottle, dressed in a hat and guitar can be found all over the city in many different forms.
This past weekend, Misae and I took a five hour bus ride to south-west Spain to visit Jerez, which is near the famed beaches of Cadiz…unfortunately, I saw only vineyards, no surf or sand.
But after we checked in to our hotel and walked closer to the bodega, we could smell the sherry before we saw it. We chose a tour in Spanish, just to see how good we could be. A bit confusing when you don’t understand the sherry making process anyway…but we did well. Our tour guide ushered us through the pyramids of wooden barrels, each marked with a different product. We learned that you will never find a year on a bottle of sherry or brandy….there’s just simply no way to tell how old it is. Workers are constantly mixing and matching, working with natural yeast and the wood of the casks to get just the right flavor and color. And here, only the white Palomino grape is harvested for their sherry.
I think my favorite part was perusing the casks signed by celebrities from the 1930s and on. Pablo Picasso, Margaret Thatcher, Orson Welles, Prince Charles, Steven Spielberg, and countless race car drivers, Spanish politicos and stars of stage and screen.
After our tour, which included an incredibly slow moving choo-choo train through a mini vineyard, we were escorted to the tasting room. No, not like in Willy Wonka. Red and white paper lanterns were strung across the room, and old bullfighting posters decorated the walls. Each table was given a table of fino sherry-the youngest sherry of the group, and some of the solera-a bit older and sweeter. Did anyone else have to read Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado” in school? I couldn’t help thinking about it as we were walking through the dank rooms….
Thankfully, they gave us some chips to temper the alcohol, and then it was off to have lunch. I chose gazpacho and croquettes…..We decided to also visit the Harveys Bristol Cream bodega, and I remembered how my dad poured me glass of the sweet sherry before I left for Spain. He had pointed out that it was from Jerez…..and here I was drinking it right near the casks where it was made. Very cool. Misae and I spent the rest of the weekend exploring the tiny town, mostly eating and walking. It is way more touristy than Granada, in fact a waiter spoke to us in English since he was eager to practice.
Was I ready to give my order? he asked….Yes, I said. “Let’s rock and roll,” he said, pen and paper ready.
I was relieved to get back to Granada where the streets are bustling, and can you believe it, things actually feel familiar….
This past weekend, Misae and I took a five hour bus ride to south-west Spain to visit Jerez, which is near the famed beaches of Cadiz…unfortunately, I saw only vineyards, no surf or sand.
But after we checked in to our hotel and walked closer to the bodega, we could smell the sherry before we saw it. We chose a tour in Spanish, just to see how good we could be. A bit confusing when you don’t understand the sherry making process anyway…but we did well. Our tour guide ushered us through the pyramids of wooden barrels, each marked with a different product. We learned that you will never find a year on a bottle of sherry or brandy….there’s just simply no way to tell how old it is. Workers are constantly mixing and matching, working with natural yeast and the wood of the casks to get just the right flavor and color. And here, only the white Palomino grape is harvested for their sherry.
I think my favorite part was perusing the casks signed by celebrities from the 1930s and on. Pablo Picasso, Margaret Thatcher, Orson Welles, Prince Charles, Steven Spielberg, and countless race car drivers, Spanish politicos and stars of stage and screen.
After our tour, which included an incredibly slow moving choo-choo train through a mini vineyard, we were escorted to the tasting room. No, not like in Willy Wonka. Red and white paper lanterns were strung across the room, and old bullfighting posters decorated the walls. Each table was given a table of fino sherry-the youngest sherry of the group, and some of the solera-a bit older and sweeter. Did anyone else have to read Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado” in school? I couldn’t help thinking about it as we were walking through the dank rooms….
Thankfully, they gave us some chips to temper the alcohol, and then it was off to have lunch. I chose gazpacho and croquettes…..We decided to also visit the Harveys Bristol Cream bodega, and I remembered how my dad poured me glass of the sweet sherry before I left for Spain. He had pointed out that it was from Jerez…..and here I was drinking it right near the casks where it was made. Very cool. Misae and I spent the rest of the weekend exploring the tiny town, mostly eating and walking. It is way more touristy than Granada, in fact a waiter spoke to us in English since he was eager to practice.
Was I ready to give my order? he asked….Yes, I said. “Let’s rock and roll,” he said, pen and paper ready.
I was relieved to get back to Granada where the streets are bustling, and can you believe it, things actually feel familiar….
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