Week 25 in The Year of Drinking Adventurously. Sherry.

Dry Sack, it sounds like a dental issue doesn’t it? The bottle came in a drawstring jute bag – a dry sack. And it was all downhill from there…

It’s been years since I tried sherry. My mother drank it occasionally and I’m sure I sneaked a sip. Because that’s how I was as a kid… Into everything. Mom tended to choose her food and beverages based on the type of book she was reading. A novel set in Victorian times meant tea, tarts, cucumber sandwiches and sherry. I am not kidding.

Nevertheless, since my sherry sampling is so far in my hazy past, I entered this week with no preconceived notions.

Remember how awful whiskey tasted the first time you tried it? Or beer? Drinking doesn’t come to most of us automatically.  We sample, our palates acclimate, our tastes broaden and so do our horizons. And so Monday evening, with a light supper planned for dining outside, I opened my bottle of medium (not dry not sweet) blended sherry.

I bought a Spanish sherry rather than a domestic product, hoping to have a more authentic experience. Although the blending of Amontillado and Oloroso sherries may have diminished my experience somewhat.  And there weren’t a whole lot of options at my local liquor store to choose from.  So it’s entirely possible that like my initial reaction to saki, my impression of sherry might be somewhat skewed…  Because I hated it! And I’m the girl that didn’t mind grappa! I took one sip, grimaced, tried again – yes, still bad. I’m afraid this bottle is going to languish in the refrigerator until I foist it on one of my unsuspecting friends.

Now, I’m really curious to hear Lula’s impression…. And hopefully she delved into the history, etc. because I am totally skipping it. I am not hopeful for next week either. It’s port – sherry’s Portuguese cousin.