At each taste, a cool stream coursed through my mouth, leaving a trail of honey and melon, green apple and almonds. Sometimes even salt. Then I'd have a fried anchovy or a shrimp fritter, and thirst for more of that chilly liquid. The drink was sherry, but not the usual fino. It was manzanilla, made only in this tiny seaside town where the Atlantic and the Guadalquivir River join, wrapping the town and its bodegas with the humid, coastal air that nurtures this wine.
Many wines owe their flavor to the quality of the grapes or the skill of the winemaker.
With manzanilla, it is really this ocean air that makes it what it is. It is light and dry like a fino, but with a cleaner, more delicate, almost tangy finish. It is the antithesis of the stuffy old banker's drink. The Spanish have long thought of it as simply an esoteric wine from Sanlucar, the traditional Andalusian drink, the drink for tapas. But in recent years, Andalusia has revived its wine culture.