Sharing Sherry

Last night I happened to be grafted into the invitation to attend a cheese and sherry tasting at St. James Cheese Company uptown on Prytania.  I say grafted because of all things people should know about me it is that: patiently waiting and giving my direct attention at lectures are still monumental undertakings for me.  Maybe it is my subconscious recalling boring junior high government classes or Sunday school programs that dragged on just a little too long, but sitting and waiting my turn to eat while trying to remember the alcohol content in a certain sherry is, well, hard.

But not to say that I didn't try with all of my might and in the end I was actually rewarded.  Strolling in right as things were about to kick off the patrons of the night were nothing but kind and attentive and set before my friend and I two copies of: a plate of six cheeses, serrano ham, and llomo, a bottled water, and a glass of sherry.  Our friend and sommelier at Stella!, John Mitchell was there giving the "bios" of the different sherries.  And if you ever want to learn about wine or spirits then this is your guy.  He is not pushy, persnickety, or elitist.  He is understanding, courteous, and clearly a smooth talker when you get him started on the things he loves.

We ate two aged Manchego (Spain was the theme of the night due to sherry), an English cheddar, one French Crottin, Prima Donna, and a blue cheese.  The last cheese and sherry pairing was the most intense and should have been labeled with a "for mature palates only" sign.  The cheese, described as "with the texture of peanut butter with tannin mixed in", and the sherry (read here: motor oil), were a bit much and too rich to end on.  However, my favorite from the beginning (smelling every cheese like an animal before the tasting starts is not frowned upon, right?) was the Prima Donna from the Netherlands.  By accident an employee of Prima Donna walked into St. James about 1 1/2 hours before the tasting and got up to give a more scientific and detailed description of the cheese.  Truly testing the limitations of my attention span after four sherries I could not be too angry with him for he too was a very nice man and, like many others such as myself, has a degree in something entirely different from what his job is now.  He sells cheese for the love of cheese.

But back to the sherry, because as I came to learn, I should be buying a lot more of this stuff before anyone notices what they are missing out of.  Mitchell began to describe how the quickly dissipating quality of an open bottle of sherry, and the public's misconceptions of the fortified wine, force many retailers to sell the splits for much less than their actual work.  Some bottles coming from a 14 barrel group made by a 7th generation sherry-maker may be undersold due to the lack of knowledge and demand for the product.  I am not proposing that everyone go out and buy cases of sherry now (that would totally ruin my plan) but maybe give the less syrupy, motor oil-esque ones a try and you might be surprised that for your next tapas night you won't have to rely on that dusty bottle of Malbec.