Another one of the not-quite-on-the-beaten-path things we did in Spain was a stop in Jerez de la Frontera, home of Sherry, and a tour of the Sandeman bodega. Sandeman is more known for port in my mind, but my mind is apparently wrong. Their logo of a Zorro-looking silhouette is recognizable from his hat and cape, the flat-brimmed hat being traditional of Spain and the cape being traditional of Portugal. Or so the good people of Sandeman's claim, and even make the poor tour guides dress up in a hat and cape. The woman who did our tour was innocently working the cash register, and when we showed up, she took our money, said "just a moment," disappeared and then reappeared in full Zorro regalia.
We learned a lot about how they make sherry, how George Sandeman was a marketing genius, and how sherry is actually not really that tasty at 11:00 in the morning. But luckily, despite all we were led to fear from junior-high literature anthologies, we were never sealed into a wall with the below-pictured cask of amontillado.
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4 comments:
Lucky break, that.
Mom
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