In Jerez old is now the new new. Just missed out in the unveiling of this in Madrid this week. A newly relaunched vermouth under an old Barbadillo brand resurrected in 2017 after 40 odd years.
As I say, I missed the unveiling, and indeed I only made it to La Fisna before closing by the skin of my teeth and as a result have next to no actual information, other than that it is an old recipe with a manzanilla base and an amped up dosage of quinine.
The resulting potion is powerful stuff and not at all what springs to mind when someone says “vermouth”. The manzanilla base is dry as dry can be and there is no hint of sweetness. For me it is more reminiscent of an amaro, with burnt caramel bitterness, but saline. (You get the feeling that a martini made with this would be filthy rather than dirty.)
Serious, grown up, drinking.
If you are only interested in sherries, look away now, because as its moniker suggests this is not a sherry. It is not even a palomino, or a vine grown on albariza. Unlike an increasing number of wines from around Spain it hasn’t had any flor, or spent any time in an old oloroso barrel. On the contrary, it is a 100% vermentino that has spent 19 months on its lees.
But it is slightly oxidized and doesn’t half smell and act like some of the palomino wines – it was suggested to me by Victoria in La Piperna (Madrid’s premier Italian restaurant) for precisely that reason and I am very glad she suggested it because the similarities and differences are very interesting. (After all, what do they know of sherry, who only sherry know? As a great man nearly said.)
Aromatically it is very similar – on nose alone I would have called this palomino, without question. As you would expect, the flavours on the palate are not dissimilar – maybe a bit more towards ripe fruit and plums than white fruit – like a palomino there isn’t much acidity and there is that touch of oxidation, to which palomino seems very prone. Having said all that, it lacks the distinctive salinity of the albariza wines, which leaves it feeling a little blunt at both ends, and for me the palate over all is less defined – less discernible herb.
Would be a good one to sneak into a blind tasting for all the new sherry experts (unless of course they read this blog).
You know that the guys in Jerez are doing something right by the number of would-be Jereces that are appearing. These days it doesn’t matter what region you are making wine in, you aren’t anyone if you aren’t making something under “flor”, something oxidated, something does with palo cortado or at the very least something aged in a barrel that was once used for fino, manzanilla, oloroso or similar.
Now the guys in Rueda have an answer to this. Their “dorados” are oxidated and are in some cases from soleras, but are no recent invention: if you know your history you will know that they are in fact backed by a long tradition.
Even so, it is surely no coincidence that after fifteen years in Spain I only start to see them now, with the “sherryrevolution” at full steam. And indeed in just a couple of weeks I had my first during a spectacular lunch at Alabaster and this, my second, during a cheekier lunch at Angelita. (Unless we include Beatriz Herranz’s Bruto, but that is 100% palomino so doesn’t seem to fit the bill.) Since then I haven’t stopped seeing them all over twitter, and although you never know whether it is the same 6 bottles in all the pictures it certainly seems like they are making a splash.
This one is 100% verdejo (it says here) and was very interesting if not to say quite curious. As you would imagine there is fruit in the nose but whereas your oxidated sherries give you an impression of sweetness on the nose here it came across as bitter fruitiness, like an orange marmalade. Then on the palate it had a bite of acidity and then again that fruity bitterness. To be honest I found it difficult to get into, but if twitter is anything to go by it won’t be long until my next opportunity.
Was given this blind by Fran, the sommelier at Alabaster, at the beginning of what turned into one of the all-time great lunches, and didn’t get anywhere near identifying it. To be fair, while I had read about “Dorados” from Rueda, until now hadn’t had my hands on one. (The nearest was probably For this is the verdejo and palomino answer to the solera aged wines of the South and it was very interesting indeed.
You can find a ficha here in Spanish and as you will see that it is an unfortified blend of palomino and verdejo (proportion not revealed but order of varietals suggests more verdejo) that have been separately fermented in inox before coupage. Then it is stored in 16L glass demijuanas for 18 months and subjected to the extremes of the Castilian summer – which leads to the oxidation – before being finished in oak barrels. (Although it all sounds like a single vintage process I couldn’t find a date on the label or bottle.)
The resulting wine is pretty interesting. As you can see it has a deep old straw color to it, which in my mental processes it had me heading manzanilla pasada or old fino. Then the nose had fruit – much more like a manzanilla pasada than fino, but even more fruit than that, very bright nose. On the palate it had quite an acidic start, which on top of all the fruit had the alarm bells ringing, and then that fruit, then a turn to sour fruit bitterness and a deepish groove of salinity. Quite a long, fiery and mouthwatering finish.
I might get pelters for this from the guys down in el marco but I really enjoyed it – tasty and complex, and a reminder of how much fun it is to taste wines blind. May have been a bit of the element of surprise involved but will have to see if I can get some to try against the real thing at my leisure. Nice one Fran!
Now here is an interesting wine: 100% palomino from a single vineyard, spontaneous fermentation in the butt, then 12 months “under flor” and 4 months in inox. 948 bottle in total. And from Rueda of all places.
Quite a geographic shift (about 600 km north as the urraca flies) but I am told it is less of an innovation than a throwback to the times when a lot of palomino was grown and aged in the North. It is also from an impeccable maker – Beatriz Herranz of Barco de la Corneta – who has a cult following for making serious wine from a grape (verdejo) and in a region that are too often synonymous with egregious mass production.
Most importantly it is pretty tasty stuff. I wouldn’t have said it had 12 months under flor – if anything I would have said a good few months oxidation – and neither was it the most expressive, but there is pungency, solidity and salinity there.
As experts in Madrid bar tops will know from the picture, I tried it in Angelita, where this month all the wines are from female winemakers, but you can find interesting wines by the glass all year around.
A sweet wine from palomino fino (listán Sanluqueño) that I was first told had been aged in Sanlucar in old oloroso barrels but I have since been corrected – inox all the way.
I have only ever had a couple of sweet palomino wines and haven’t really warmed to them. (In fact to be honest I am not the biggest fan of sweet wines in general.)
This has a nose of sweet tomatoes and a nice mineral, sweet herb sweetness on the palate. It has a nice texture and isn’t over the top in sugar or alcohol, but for me lacks a bit of acidity up-front and has a slightly sticky bitterness – like biting tomato seeds – on the finish. Comes across as a bit heavy and a bit two ended – no real shape to it.
File this one under interesting.
I had another glass of this at the bar of Angelita and it left me in two minds.
On the one hand, I feel privileged to have had the chance to try another glass. It confirmed my growing impression that it is a wine of some stature and getting better: an aromatic butterscotch and hazelnut on the nose, zingy acidity and more butterscotch on the palate and a sapid finish.
On the other hand, it depressed me to find that such a wine hadn’t been exhausted long ago. I wrote about this wine being available by the glass in Angelita on March 15, and even given the diminute reach of this below average blog it is shocking to me that the half dozen or so readers didn’t tool up there and drain the swamp in the nearly two months since. You hear a lot about the “sherry revolution” these days and you can’t chuck a half brick in Madrid without inadvertently vandalizing a so-called “sherry temple”, but here we have a bona fide cathedral to wine and on its list they have one of the most exciting wines being made, in tiny amounts, in the sherry triangle, and in two months they haven’t sold out. There really can only be two causes: people are not going to Angelita as much as they should (a scandal itself in my view) and those that do are not trying the right wine. It is enough to make a fella weep.
Let’s be clear: if you love wine, you should be supporting places like Angelita and the other fantastic bars and restaurants that Madrid is blessed with; and if you want to understand anything about the “sherry revolution” that is possible, you should be trying wines like Encrucijado.