The other day, I walked into a bar of a four star hotel and asked for a glass of Tio Pepe. The girl behind the counter looked at me blankly. She hadn’t a clue what I was talking about. I explained. She rummaged behind the counter and brought forth a bottle of Bristol Cream. No? Try again. This time a bottle of manzanilla was placed upon the counter. It was half empty. Did she know when it had been opened? Sadly, no. Resignedly I allowed her to pour a glass. It was dull but drinkable, its salt and nutty character quite subsumed into hot alcohol. Such is life for the sherry fan. There seemed little to be gained by pointing out grumpily that dry sherry should be treated as a white wine, and preferably sold in half bottles so it can be consumed quickly before going stale.
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