Taste the Flavors of Spain

Our Republic-based wine columnist uncovers the secrets of Jerez, in Spain's Andalusia region, where tapas and flamenco reign.

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Photo courtesy Bodegas Lustau The cathedral in Cadiz is one of the Jerez region’s beautiful sights.

I was standing in the Madrid airport waiting for a connecting flight to Jerez, when I realized I was leaving the beaten path of tourism. I handed a young clerk my passport and flight information. She took them, raised an eyebrow, and asked, somewhat dubiously, “You fly to Jerez?”

Had it been Seville, or Gibraltar or even Casablanca, I would have been just one of many American tourists. But Jerez is a small town in the middle of nowhere—despite its nearly 200,000 inhabitants. Jerez (pronounced her-eth) isn’t even the capital of Cadiz province, a fact that fuels rivalry between neighboring towns even today.

So why was I going there? Jerez is where sherry originates. It’s one of the oldest and most misunderstood wine regions on earth. I was in Spain on a tour sponsored by the Center For Wine Origins to learn about sherry and experience Spain’s southern coast.

Welcome to Jerez

Jerez is nine miles inland, in Andalusia. Tapas were first enjoyed here, and flamenco still captivates the hearts of travelers and locals. Equestrian arts are deeply rooted in Andalusia, as is agriculture. Some of the world’s finest olives and oils come from Andalusia. Its produce is second to none.

The Hotel Sherry Park, on the main avenue in Jerez, is beautiful and convenient. Most rooms have private balconies with live flowers and plants growing in the built-in beds. After a brief nap to try to shake the jet lag, we headed to nearby Sanlúcar de Barremeda for dinner. There, we began to understand that life in southern Spain is different. We didn’t leave the hotel until after 8 p.m., yet we arrived far too early for dinner. Many restaurants don’t open until 9 p.m., and it’s customary for families to go for their evening meal at 10 p.m. or later.

During the wait, our tour guide took us to Donana National Park, one of Europe’s largest, most diverse nature preserves. We sat in an outdoor cabana sipping wine and marveling at the sight before us. The sun was high, and the beach was crowded with people. It was past 9:30 p.m., yet it appeared to be late afternoon. Dinner was on the patio at Mirador Donana. We were served pitchers of beer and bottles of locally made Palomino white wine, and a locally blended red. The wines were not spectacular, but the variety of tapas was: platter after platter of seafood, croquettes, olives, peppers and things we couldn’t identify but ate anyway.