Añina 2016 in Taberna Palo Cortado

In sherry terms Madrid is one of the places to be, if not the place to be, with restaurants and winebars with incredible lists of sherries seemingly in every neighbourhood. But the final destination for the discerning drinker in want of some of the really good stuff, and in particular the really hard to get stuff, is Taberna Palo Cortado.

In Taberna Palo Cortado there is a wine list of over 300 sherries (and other traditional Andalucian wines), all available by the glass. A list exceeding my over exercised imagination. But even that list is not the end of the story. If you dig a little deeper you will soon find yourself being offered wines off the menu that are even more special.

One such is this Anina 2016 by the great Willy Perez. It is of course 100% palomino fino, from old vines on a vineyard called “El Caribe” in the historic pago de Añina in Jerez. It ticks two of my boxes: terroir and (as its name suggests) vintage, putting it right up my street, and it is another example of this new style of concentrated, unfortified white wines that Willy is quickly becoming associated with.

All the hallmarks are there – it is ripe and honeylike on the nose, loads of fruit and only the faintest hint of a distant haybale, has good acidity and weight on the palate and again a lovely mouthful of fruit flavours. Maybe a hint of oxidation up front – certainly not much suggestion of anything biological – but nice mineral and herbal notes in amongst it all. Not quite as saline or savoury as its cousins from Carrascal de Jerez, but excellent, no question.

The only problems with this wine are (a) the small size of the bottle and (b) the small number of them. Not that that stops Taberna Palo Cortado!

UBE Carrascal 2015 – in Taberna Palo Cortado

This was the original UBE and still my favourite overall. From Carrascal de Sanlucar, the freshest and most vertical of the great pagos in el marco, but from old vines and a low yielding vineyard that produces wines of relative potency and concentration.

It is of course 100% palomino (although with Ramiro other options are available), from three different clones – palomino fino, palomino de jerez and palomino pelusón (which intriguingly translates as big hairy palomino). It is fermented in bota and then spends another 20 months there, without flor, after which this one has been another three and a half years in the bottle.

That period in the bottle has really brought it on – as I so often find with palomino white wines – and the result is a highly enjoyable, fresh but flavourful white wine.

As you can see, it has taken on a very attractive old gold colour, clearly darker in shade than I remember it, and it has a very distinctive nose, chalky interlaced with lemon but with a hint of stewy herbs in the background. In fact those herbs come through more and more as the wine opens up. Really interesting balance of mineral, fruit and savoury. Then on the palate more of the same, the effect of the chalk, the fresh start and a nice, generous mouthful of citrus and herbal fruit before slipping away in a long fresh finish.

Plenty to enjoy here, a really excellent wine, and that savoury character makes it a great wine for one of the cheeky lunches I have missed so much …

Agostado 2016

The artistry formerly known as Encrucijado.

A clash in trading names means a change of moniker for this historic wine and it is a real shame. Historic because it is made using varieties that had long fallen out of favour, and because it was one of the first “new wines” from el marco. It was certainly the first that I tried, what seems a long time ago now in September 2015. That was the 2012 – the MMXII – and this is the 2016.

Over the years the wine has wound its neck in a bit. Back then there were five or six varieties involved, as the idea was to try and replicate the almost random selection of the pre-phylloxeric vineyards. But it was never meant to be an experiment, it was meant to be a wine, and as a wine it has grown and grown in stature even as the varieties dwindled. Now it has just three varieties: palomino fino, uva rey and perruno. (Still two more than your average blanco de albariza.)

From the start it was a lovely wine, but it just seems to get better and this strikes me as good as any that I have tried. It has that bit of extra girth of flavour, more buttery, more melon, but this one also has a lovely elegant profile and fresh finish. And from memory it seems to have improved a lot with a year in the bottle too.

One worth hunting out and savouring – the history of the wines and varieties of Jerez, and a lovely wine while you are at it.

Ube Carrascal 2015

I only have two bottles of this (vintage) left but couldn’t resist it.

I don’t know what it is about Ube but every time I have a bottle another one soon follows, and after that, well, one thing generally leads to another.

It is a class old vine palomino from a typically vertical, Atlantic Sanlucar, and this one from a warm year has a touch more fruit heft to balance the savoury, stewy herbs.

Superb – really world class white wine.

Fino El Aljibe

One of the newer labels in Jerez but an old school wine. A compact, solid fino with a lot of time in the barrel.

It comes from a compact, solid project with 16 hectares of vines on Pago de Añina in three vineyards: San Cristobal, El Aljibe and San José. Under new ownership but with old vines, a lot of varieties and clones in each vineyard but also a lot of new thinking. They have had them in ownership since 2015 and have produced wine since 2016. Those wines are used to rociar acquired soleras with a long history.

The fino is from a solera with four criaderas and the 2500 or so bottles a year have had an average of 8 years under flor.  The result is that compact, solid fino I mentioned earlier. Almond, yeasty dough and haybale aromatics and then a solid palate with a nice zingy start, bitter almond and slightly undercooked bread and then a mineral finish.

And it has a solidity to it that makes you feel like it is one of those unbeatable finos. The spanish have a frankly mystifying word: impepinable. Literally it means “uncucumberable” but after eighteen years in Spain it seems to me that it means you can’t fault it. 

And you really can’t fault it. Uncucumberable.

Ube Carrascal 2015

We are all locked in, but I don’t have anywhere better to go. This is an exceptional, world class white wine.

It shows all the qualities of its variety, time and place. The white fruit and herbs of the best palominos, the concentration of an (even) hotter season and the salinity and verticality of its birthplace in Carrascal de Sanlucar.

That combination of concentrated fruit, herbs, salinity and freshness make for an incredibly complex white wine, which was perfect with dinner but is even better on its own.

Uberrima indeed. Superb.

La Panesa – January 2020

A brand new bottle of this marvellous wine, the pinnacle of bottle ageing. A full 15 years under the flor (on average, a lot longer in the case of some of its contents) and after six weeks or so in the bottle as fresh as a daisy.

The archetypal fino with a nose full of nuts, yeast and minerals and a superb full, solid palate – like a great opera tenor no woolly vibrato here. Full in flavour but elegant in profile – a really fantastic wine.

And in the background maestro David Villalon selecting cheeses from the unequalled board at Angelita Madrid. Two legends in one lunchtime.

Cuatro Palmas – 2012 edition

This was a gift given to me by wonderful friends and I am mortified that I have opened it without being able to share it with them.

But on the other hand I have them in mind as I drink this excellent wine. A superb example of an old amontillado, this is so fine on the nose, so saline and sharp, and so elegant of profile, with maybe just a fanned out tail like a fiery saline shuttlecock.

Beautiful work from Antonio Flores and the team at Gonzalez Byass back in 2012. Which I now remember is the year I met my friends – and my woe is compounded.

A wonderful wine to finish in instalments …

 

Marqués de Rodil in Huerto de Carabaña

I wrote a few days ago about my discovery of the Huerto de Carabaña bistro in Madrid. Not one of Madrid’s fanciest locales but very enjoyable, in particular the wine service, and in particular when the wine service includes a wine like this.

Marqués de Rodil is sold as a palo cortado, probably the most “commercial” category of sherry around and if you want to know where your wine comes from one of the trickiest. Some makers profess to being mystified as to how it is made (which tells you everything you need to know about the veracity of the marketing involved). In reality, you most often find it is an oloroso made from first press, fine mostos, or base wine that had a fair bit of biological ageing to begin with (something which is more common than you may think) or even just an oloroso that tasted especially “fine” in the casks.

Be that as it may, palo cortados can indeed be absolutely cracking wines. Full in flavour but light on their feet, they can combine the best of all worlds, with a little more elegance than an oloroso and a little more spark than an amontillado.

This one certainly does, it is a beautiful wine.  Clear as a bell in consistency and with a lovely copper/gold colour to it. This one was from a freshly opened bottle and had a lovely fragrant nose: nutty toffee steeped in brandy. Then on the palate it was sharp to start, a dry, serious palate of toffee, nuts and heat and a long, flavourful finish.

Really enjoyable wine and no wonder they are big sellers.

1955 Palo Cortado by Perez Barquero in Taberna Palo Cortado

One of many long overdue posts from one of many really top class lunches at Taberna Palo Cortado, unquestionably the number one place for any sherrylover (with apologies to Perez Reverte) in Madrid. They have more wines by the glass than anywhere else, and it really is a case of whatever your heart desires.

The only problem with it, in fact, is that when I go I end up so pie-eyed that the notes are so sketchy and the list of wines is so long I never get round to writing them up. But in a fit of back to work puritanism here I am writing up some of the wines from a marvellous lunch just a few months ago.

This is an absolutely cracking old wine from the other place, Montilla Moriles, which to me throws up a few interesting issues.

First, the wine – this is a gorgeous old oxidated wine, 100% pedro ximenez but almost fully dry – maybe just the tiniest amount of sugar – nice acidity, lovely rich flavours in a nice spectrum and no edges. Really top class, elegant but rounded wine, the kind you could enjoy best with a good book and a comfy chair.

And then, the issues.

First, the “1955” is a touch misleading, at best. I am told it refers to the approximate age of the solera, as anyone who knows their way around will appreciate, but many punters will not, and given the price band, some punters may think they are drinking something that is older than it is.

Second, the term “palo cortado”. It is pretty surprising to find a wine from Montilla Moriles being called a palo cortado. Not these days – the marketing value of the palo cortado brand is not to be sniffed at – but I am not sure what historic usage of that term there was, and ten years ago there weren’t many such wines on the market, so it is surprising at the least that a solera of “palo cortados” was founded 64 years ago. It is what it is – a selection of the finer, more elegant olorosos – and it just seems odd to label it as something else.

But pardon my quibbling. The wine is outstanding and would be equally fine however it were labelled, let’s just enjoy it!