Sherry picking

hat does sherry mean to you? Banish thoughts of some stale, sickly confection. Turn your imagination instead to the thunder of thoroughbred hooves racing along a beach, fishing boats bobbing behind, flamingos in formation overhead and a crowd whose attire covers the full spectrum from bikinis to Glorious Goodwood. Or picture a lunchtime spread overflowing with garlicky prawns and gleaming slivers of cured ham. Come winter, take shelter from the elements and hand round a restorative hip flask, your hand perhaps slipping as it passes a mug of consommé. For anyone lucky enough to have been nibbled by the sherry bug, none of these scenarios is complete without the presence of either a cool, saline manzanilla or an equally bonedry, nutty amontillado. Dry is the key here. There are indeed some glorious sweet sherries and even the much-maligned cream styles can have their moment on a soggy afternoon with a slice of fruit cake, but they tend to lack the mouth-watering gastronomic appeal of their dry counterparts. Certainly, in the bars of sunny Seville