The richest, darkest, most powerful of dry sherries, Oloroso offers a brooding glassful of flavours that can be a magical match for the right food.
As the saying goes: if it has no legs, Fino; if it has two legs, Amontillado; if it has four legs, Oloroso. This is the sherry style to bring out for your meatiest, most robust dishes. Oloroso shares that intensity, richness and depth of oxtail stew or slow braised pork cheek. This is warming comfort food for the depths of winter, ideally after a long, energetic day out in the cold.
That rich, mouth-coating glycerol of oloroso also lends itself well to spicier Asian stews, such as a Chinese style beef shin braised with powerful flavours such as soy, star anise, rice wine, ginger and chilli. Or take a Japanese angle with the wonderfully named shabu shabu, a meaty hot pot featuring flavoursome, savoury broth and rich dipping sauces, especially toasted sesame (goma dare).
China’s national dish has flown well beyond the country’s borders. Just look at those hungry crowds of every nationality flocking to their closest Chinatown. With its crispy skin, rich meat and that sweet, spicy hit of hoisin sauce, Peking Duck chimes beautifully with the deep, mahogany charms of dry Oloroso.
Don’t expect to find a bottle on the wine list of your local Chinese restaurant though. In fact, many of the busiest, most deliciously authentic Chinatown restaurants offer a notoriously weak or non-existent wine selection. Fortunately these same venues are often relaxed about letting customers bring their own bottle, so plan ahead and pack a handy half bottle of Oloroso for your next outing.
You’ve thought long and hard about the wines to serve with that Christmas goose, but with a bird of this size there’s a good chance you’ll be left with a fair bit of cold meat to see you through the following week.
For many people, those leftovers have almost as much appeal as the original hot roast, but they don’t necessarily call for the same wine. A bright, juicy, young red could do the trick, but one very civilised, rather more interesting alternative is dry Oloroso. That rich, nutty, spicy character of the sherry immediately perks up the cold, dry, gamey meat in the same way as a spoonful of chutney.
Similarly, keep Oloroso in mind for terrines or pâtés – such a useful, tasty way to use up a game surplus while simultaneously feeding the hungry crowd who created it. Pour them all a glass of Oloroso and suddenly a simple cold dish is elevated to a rather special treat.
Who can resist a good onion soup? That sweetness of slowly caramelised onion combined with the savoury depth of its meaty beef stock base has to be one of the world’s great comfort foods. Don’t forget the molten gruyère topping. Yet the liquid clash of soup and wine can be tricky to manage successfully.
Sherry is a rare style that can handle the meeting with panache, and for this particularly rich, wintery soup there’s no finer partner than dry Oloroso. As with any sherry and soup combination, don’t forget to pour a splash in the pot as well as your glass.
It’s so easy to turn straight to a mature fine red wine to accompany your venison showpiece, but talk to a sherry producer and they’ll almost certainly nudge you towards a dry Oloroso. This isn’t just an opportunistic sales pitch: that rich, dark, lean meat is a suitably noble match for the brooding complexities of a fine Oloroso. Nor does the Oloroso mind how the venison is presented.
Wow your friends with a lightly seared loin – in which case consider a splash of Oloroso in the gravy too; revive them with a hearty, warming pie, perhaps given an extra forest character with some earthy mushrooms; alternatively, keep it light with fine slices of smoked venison or air-dried bresaola. All these options would be delicious in their own right, but the harmonious addition of Oloroso sparks a taste bud sensation that – as with all great wine matches – is even greater than the sum of its parts.
