Sherry, often viewed as a timeless region, is emerging from a period of significant evolution. In recent months, Sherry’s regulatory body, or consejo regulador, in Jerez de la Frontera finalized the last of a set of much-needed changes that have been supported en masse within the region, where producers are eager to both remain competitive in the global beverage landscape and reclaim lost aspects of their winemaking tradition. These changes, which have taken years to effect, will alter the scope and profile of future Sherry wines.
Whenever I need to move about Spain, if it’s at all possible, I do so by train. Spain is not a massive country—it is basically the same size as California but a square—so it’s possible to fly to almost any peninsular point in less than an hour. But by taking the train instead, the vast changes across the Spanish landscape are evident, offering a helpful primer on the country’s geography.
Moving past Madrid, the train winds through rolling hills dotted with olive trees. This gives way to Córdoba, the pressure cooker of Spain; here, summer heat is always extreme. Even so, Montilla-Moriles is home to producers that make fine Sherry-like wines in the region’s hills. Next is Seville, a lovely town that, while not as hot as Córdoba, can still be suffocating in the summer months. As the train leaves Seville’s Santa Justa station, it feels like the sky stretches to infinity, as the lands are flat, wide, and seemingly endless. Slowly, however, small hills dotted with vines appear. This is the beginning of the Sherry lands.
At the grand, early 20th-century train station of Jerez de la Frontera, it is typically 10 degrees Celsius (18 degrees Fahrenheit) cooler than in Seville. There is often a salty, Atlantic tang to the air—though it can be smothered by the croquetas frying at the cafes across the street. In any case, it is clear how this area can produce