Sherry, the Forgotten Elixir

I love sherry and I don’t really care if you do.

This might seem like an outrage to the average sherry enthusiast, but I don’t want to spend my time trying convert people to a wine that they are never going to drink.

Sherry (and the wines of Montilla-Moriles) has had a rough 50 years. Its last heyday was before the birth of most current sherry drinkers and it stands as a largely forgotten, yet mainstream, wine. Cheap and overly sweet imitations, along with the stigma of drinking what might have been your grandmother’s tipple, has all but removed the wine from the common man or woman’s drinking repertoire.

I have been a fan of sherry since my first year in the wine business nearly 16 years ago. After completing university, my first order of business was a wine trip to Spain and Portugal to taste their fortified wines.

From a delicate fino, to a sublime manzanilla, to the sweetest PX, I am always game to sit down, have a glass and discuss fortified wines until the wee hours. But despite my best efforts, I have yet to covert anyone who wasn’t already a fan of sherry, or an open-minded wine nerd. I’ve led sherry classes and fortified wine seminars, but I’ve never seen a eureka moment in which the attendee says, ”This is the wine for me. We are going to drink fino all summer until we pass out, barf, or the snow flies — whichever comes first.”

And I don’t care anymore.

Sure, there is a market for sweet and dessert sherries, sherry-based cocktails and whisky finished in sherry cask, which drive the demand for sherry. But the dessert wine market is fickle, despite being big and lucrative. Virtually every wine producing region has its own version of a sticky wine, but they move in and out of fashion almost too fast to be counted. Sherry is the best match for most dessert tarts, but desserts change.

Sherry doesn't seem to capture the imagination of enough diners to become a permanent addition to a restaurant wine list. Will it ever become the regular tipple of the thirsty masses in North America?

More countries should agree to protect the term “sherry” and stop producing their own misleading versions of the wine. Sherry does not come from Canada, the United States, Australia, or anywhere outside of Spain. Although I do count the wines of Montilla-Moriles when I talk about the wines of Jerez.

Nothing is more refreshing on a hot summer day than a glass of fino and sitting on a patio on a hot afternoon in Andalusia with a glass sherry (or six) can’t be beat. A dry sherry is a wine that always tastes better outside.

A few years ago, Wine Access launched a competition for wines available in the Canadian market for less than $25 on a retail wine shelf, the International Value Wine Awards. The wines are judges blind by independent and objective wine experts from across Canada.

Two years ago, sherries began to win Judge’s Choice awards and appear on our “Killer Values” list of the best wines under $15. The judges were thrilled; we all love to see a great wine region receive recognition and the importers of those wines saw a modest rise in sales. We know that consumers are interested in trying new wines, but I just don’t know if sherry will keep their interest.

I love to “geek out” about sherry with like-minded individuals, but you will never see me emerge from my cellar with a bottle of sherry hidden behind my back, uttering the words, “I’ve got something you have to try.” I just don’t think that it’s worth the effort.

Unless you are a wine nerd, then we can talk…and I’ll bring the wine.

I was asked by the Secret Sherry Society to be a guest blogger on their website. If you love sherry as much as I do, check them out for all sorts of sherry goodness.