Sherry doesn’t chase you. It lounges in the corner, smirking, letting the curious come closer. It’s the wine equivalent of a raised eyebrow and a perfectly timed pause. Not loud, not needy, just devastatingly sure of itself. And let’s be honest: most people don’t like it on the first taste. It’s challenging, unfamiliar, even a little confrontational. But that’s the point. Like a good book or a strange film, it rewards the ones who stay curious.

Nor does Sherry need to follow trends. It was here before hashtags, and it’ll be here after; it’s timeless and elemental. The taste of salt air, quiet strength, and stories aged in old wood. The kind of wine that gets under your skin slowly, like a song you didn’t realise was your favourite until the third listen.

The Reputation Problem

Sherry’s been punished for the sins of your grandmother’s drinks cabinet.

It got boxed up in cream-lacquered shame. Sticky, sickly, and served in glasses the size of a cough syrup cup. In the Anglo world, sherry became the wine of cat ladies and clergymen. Somewhere between Christmas pudding and Cluedo.

But the truth is, that wasn’t Sherry's fault. That was ours.

We stopped listening before it finished its story. And it’s not that sherry isn’t sexy. It’s that no one ever taught you how to flirt with it properly.

The Styles: A Cast of Characters

You want complexity? You want drama? Sherry has more personalities than your last relationship, and all of them taste better.

Fino
Pale and razor-sharp. It smells like almonds and ocean spray, and it’ll cut through a plate of jamón like a knife through silk. This is the minimalist: bone-dry, flinty, ascetic. The kind of lover who disappears before dawn, leaving only a note and your racing pulse.

Manzanilla
Fino’s beach-town cousin. Saltier, breezier, kissed by the sea air of Sanlúcar. Pairs with anchovies, heartbreak, and an endless Andalusian afternoon.

Amontillado
The twilight zone between light and dark. It starts as a fino but loses its flor, like innocence aging into experience. Oxidative, nutty, more cerebral. Imagine Miles Davis in wine form.

Palo Cortado
The mystery. The wine that doesn’t know what it wants to be and becomes something unforgettable in the process. Rare. Haunting. Some bottles taste like the last page of a good book.

Oloroso
Dark, intense, full-bodied. Rich with flavours of roasted walnuts, antique wood, and warm spice. This is the bass line in a jazz bar. Deep, smooth, and unforgettable.

Pedro Ximénez (PX)
Sweet, dense, and gloriously decadent. It tastes like sun-dried raisins, dates, espresso syrup and late-night confessions. Pour it over vanilla ice cream or let it haunt your dessert hour.

Why It’s More Relevant Than Ever

You want something with tradition and technique? Sherry’s got craft layered over centuries, a dance between nature and intention. Its solera system is a masterclass in patience, its balance between oxidation and flor a kind of alchemy. It’s deliberate, disciplined, and dazzlingly alive; with acidity for days and backbone to match.

You want a wine that pairs with food? Sherry is food. Fino with olives, Amontillado with grilled mushrooms, PX with blue cheese or revenge. It’s not wine for posing. It’s wine for living.

“Sherry isn’t coming back. It never left. You just weren’t ready.”

And guess what? The natural wine kids are starting to catch on. The sommeliers whispering secrets behind the bar, the chefs who’ve been to Jerez and never quite got over it, well, they’re pouring it again. In wine bars from Madrid to Brooklyn, sherry is becoming the secret handshake.

How to Start (Without Screwing It Up)

1. Don’t buy the supermarket cream stuff.
   Start dry. Fino or Manzanilla. Cold, fresh, real.
2. Go to a bar that knows what they’re doing.
   In Madrid, try Angelita, La Venencia, or Casa González. Ask for a flight. Sip. Breathe.
3. Pair it with salt, fat, or funk.
   Anchovies, Manchego, almonds. Oloroso with oxtail stew. PX with Stilton. You’re not in Kansas anymore.
4. Buy a bottle, it won’t break the bank.
   Look for:

• La Gitana Manzanilla
• Fernando de Castilla Classic Amontillado
• Valdespino Inocente Fino

Drink it cold. Drink it slow. Drink it like it has something to teach you.

One Last Thing

Sherry isn’t easy. It’s not designed for a wine flight with influencers and ring lights. It doesn’t sparkle or pander. It’s moody, layered, and unapologetically Andalusian. But once it gets under your skin, it stays there.

“If you don’t fall in love with sherry, it’s not because it isn’t sexy - it’s because you’re still looking at it with your eyes closed.”.