fortified wine

After having cooked with Sherry I thought I might jot down a few points with regard to fortified wines in general. As a rule, I love them. I do have a sweet tooth though, so whilst I often fancy the idea of a dry sherry, most of the time, given the choice between sweet and dry, I would always go for the sweet. However, to get the dry out of the way: let's talk about Manzanilla.
 If you read the food and travel sections of the broadsheets, you may be aware of the famous "salt tang" of Manzanilla. I think if I read that phrase ever again, I will vomit. During the Seville fair in 1991 I drank enough Manzanilla to last a lifetime. La Gitana, La Guita and Osborne. Frankly, they are overrated. They are only really palatable when they are absolutely ice cold. Once the drink has warmed up it is no good for anything. And as for adding lemonade or any other soft drink, forget it. I will just say that Manzanilla means little apple in Spanish and whilst my tastebuds are fresh, I can usually detect a faint hint of apple. As for true Sherries, I occasionally fancy a dry one - often Domecq's La Ina - especially if I am having a few prawns, but what really whets my appetite is a nice, cold, sweet, fortified wine. If it is served straight out of the barrel in some sort of bodega then I am happy as a sandboy. I am a real sucker for bodegas with barrels lining the walls. I remember going to a very well known and typical one in Malaga, which was great until it was time to go to the toilet. The stench lives with me still. A few years ago when Cheryl and I were on a brief holiday in Chipiona we found a couple of bodegas that served a fortified wine local to that splendid town, and I can remember those bodegas far more clearly than any of the restaurants we visited. 
When we went to Cordoba a couple of years ago we made a special effort to try the local fortified wines with the Montilla Moriles D.O. and some of them were really excellent. I must say though, that when I went against my instinct and tried a dry one, I found it to be unpalatable. 
All of which brings me to a question. Would I ever stand at the bar of a pub in this country and order a nice schooner of Harvey's Bristol Cream? The short answer to that question is: No. I would feel too self conscious. I would feel as people might think I was trying to make some sort of statement, as if I was trying to portray myself as some sort of sophisticate. Given that I loath the cult of sophistication, that would not be the case. Why then would I feel happy to do it in Spain? Perhaps it is because the Spanish are more grown up than we are with regard to certain things, and do not adhere to the view that what you drink is in some way tied in with questions of masculinity. There is a certain town not too far from here (Clue: it is an anagram of Woodfleet), where, if you stood at the bar and ordered a nice glass of Chardonnay, you would, if you were a bloke, probably be dead before you had finished your drink. I still sometimes get the odd look or funny comment (not from my closest friends, you understand) from old school types if I ask for a glass of red wine when it is their turn in the chair. I have often thought it might make the basis of a good freelance article - to go round to all the roughest pubs you could find, clutching a copy of The Guardian, and having the temerity to ask for a nice chilled Pinot Grigio. I have often been on the point of sending the pitch to some friendly editor. But I doubt I would live to spend the resultant cheque. Come to think of it, I doubt I would even get to see the cheque. 
Anyway, I like a nice sweet Sherry, or Malaga wine, or Moscatel, or Montilla Moriles. I like them ice cold and I like them before my meal. Although I also love them after a meal.  I must be a dull witted peasant with an enormous lack of sophistication. Maybe I am.