How to order food in Jerez

If you’re not familiar with Spain, the restaurant scene can be a little daunting. Every region has its own food vocabulary (language, even) and it’s not difficult to look like a complete tit when you try to order food at any but the most touristy of restaurants. Here’s how it works in Jerez.

Firstly, you’re in luck. The ubiquitous outdoor seating with table service in Jerez is a far less stressful system than in many parts of the country, and certainly easier than what we’d become used to during our year and a half frequenting busy San Sebastián pintxo bars, which are more like being in the middle of a mosh pit when you’re the only sober one. (If you happen to be headed to Basque Country at some point, don’t miss this post.)

Sure, there are some conventional drinking joints where you hand over your cash as you order at the bar, but in most places they’ll start a tab for you and begin the service. So find a place that appeals and grab a seat – just watch out for reservado signs.

Eat late

While you’ll find food – some kind of food – at any time of the day in Jerez, the locals have lunch and dinner later than most. The best kitchens’ staff don’t start serving till 1.30 or 2.00pm at lunch time, and 8.00 or 8.30pm at dinner. Check Google for opening hours (but be prepared for inaccuracies). Even then, if you rock up at a bar at opening time it’s likely you’ll be the only ones there for a while. Lots of our favourite bars close from about 4pm and open back up again at dinner time – outside of festival weeks the city is extremely quiet in the afternoon.

Most places are closed for a day or two each week. After a long Sunday lunch it’s not unusual for a business to close at 5pm and not open again till the Tuesday or Wednesday. So, in the early part of the week there are way fewer options – but given the shear number of restaurants you won’t have much trouble finding somewhere to go.

Mad dogs, Englishmen and the midday sun

Jerez gets hot in summer. Really hot. In southern Spanish towns you’ll find some restaurants’ awnings are rigged to spray you with a water mist every minute or so, and it’s most welcome. But even with a regular spritzing, if you’re in the full sun for any length of time you’ll soon be a puddle of gloop on the cobbles. So unless you’re a mad dog or an Englishman, in the summer daytime choose a bar on the northern side of the building if you can; that is, in the natural shade. Even an array of umbrellas won’t help you much if they themselves are exposed to full sun – an umbrella is no match for a 300-year-old stone palace. Of course there’s always the option to eat inside, but eating al fresco is what Jerez is all about. Consider doing what Jerezanos do: in summer, start your evening out at 10pm.

In winter, make sure you’ve got a puffer jacket and an umbrella. It’s a city of extremes.

Be patient

When they’re eating out, Spanish people are extremely patient – and the wait staff know this and behave accordingly. Just because you’ve caught someone’s eye doesn't mean they’ll drop everything to make sure you’ve got a drink. In fact, wait staff here are pretty good at avoiding a customer’s eye unless they’re ready to serve you. It’s not bad service, or rude, it’s just the way things are done here. There is no rush and that applies regardless on which side of the bar you happen to be. Also, it’s perfectly normal for a group of locals to order one coffee each and a bowl of croquettas and sit on it for an hour, even when it’s busy and people are waiting for a table; the people waiting don’t show the slightest sign of an impatient harrumph.

Your first Jerez bar

In all except true ‘drinking’ bars, it’s table service. If it’s quiet, it’s not a bad idea to stick your head in the door so you don’t go unnoticed out on the terrace for too long, but most of the time you’ll soon receive attention from a camarero/a (waiter/waitress).

“Para beber?” is likely their first question: “To drink?” You’re in a town with a name that literally means sherry so you’d be mad not to start there. Some places will have a full drinks menu but most don’t, so here’s a few hints to get you started on your drinks order.

Sherry

There’s quite the range of sherry styles, from the light and dry finos to the gloriously rich and sweet Pedro Ximénez. I’ll blog about this exquisite drops of nectar another time, but roughly speaking the ‘continuum’ goes kind of like this photo I pinched from sherrynotes.com …

A basic and non-exhaustive list – beginning with dry and finishing in sweet – is:

fino
manzanilla (manzan-ee-ya)
amontillado (amonti-yah-do)
oloroso
palo cortado
crem
Pedro Ximénez (hĭ-mĕ-nĕth).

To ask for two glasses you can say “Dos copa de fino, por favor.” You really need to emphasise the f in fino because it can sound like vino, which is what a lot of tourists who are as yet unaware of the delights of sherry ask for.

Watch out: if you’re in a restaurant it’s possible that they’ll give you a pricier version of their sherry, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing if you’re not on a budget. You can play it safe by asking “Dos copa de fino – de la casa.” A house fino costs from between €1.60 and €2.50; the higher ‘up’ the sherry continuum you go, the more you pay, but even an exceptional palo cortado should only be about €3.50. In actual fact the sky’s the limit, price wise, and you can pay a lot more than that for top-notch sherries. Go for it – it’s worth the cost.

Tabanco Plateros has an awesome menu of really cheap sherries (the house amontillado was €1.70 last time I looked) and it’s only €8 for a tasting float of four. The locals know this so it’s hard to get a table here. You’ll probably end up walking past this little bar a few times on your travels so keep your eyes peeled for an empty seat. Their smattering of basic tapas can keep you happily sampling for a good while.

Wine

Presuming you’re happy with a house wine for now, here’s what to ask for.

For a dry white, “Copa de vino blanco – seco.” Sweeter white, “Copa de vino blanco – dulce.” Spanish sparkling wine is cava, and it’s terrific.

Reds are easier as most places have only the one house red. “Copa de vino tinto de la casa.”

Beer

The common lingo for a beer here isn’t caña like much of the rest of Spain. Instead you ask for a maceta (ma-set-a), Una media maceta (a glass half full) is the norm but if you want a big one ask for una maceta grande. 'Maceta’ means ‘flowerpot’, by the way. A few places will offer you a copa instead of a maceta.

Ordering food

“Y para comer?”

It’s easy to over-order here. Jess and I usually order two or three tapas between us to share, which is usually enough (though we’re not big eaters). You can always order more. The bigger raciones are great – some dishes come only in the larger version – but in ordering those you’re robbing yourself of the opportunity to try different flavours.

Every place has a menu (well, nearly every place – in some joints they’re simply tell you what they have, which can be fun in a not-fun sort of way), plus there’s often a blackboard with specials. A few have a menu in English but don’t count on it. Google Translate is useful here. Like every region of Spain, Andalucía has a long list of dishes it’s particularly proud of, so check out our glossary of food in Jerez.

A quick-start guid in case you’re reading this just as you’ve arrived at a Jerez bar: get the carrilladas (pork cheeks), or the albondigas (meat balls) or a montadito de ternera (veal sandwich) or the solomillo de iberico (pork steak) or the berenjenas (deep-fried eggplant) or the ensaladilla de gambas (prawn & potato salad) or the zanahorias aliñas (carrot salad in sherry vinegar) or the papas aliñas (potato salad, ditto) or the cazón adobo (monkfish nuggets), or one of the fritos options (deep-fried small fishies) … Most of these come in tapa form. At least once during your stay, order a racion of gambas ajillo (garlic prawns). A plate of queso or chorizo won’t hurt, either. Pictured at top is an ensalladilla pulpo (octopus salad), one of the occasional off-the-card specialities at Nuna. Their gambas (prawn) salad is just as good – we reckon the best in the city.

Ninety-nine per cent of the time, after you've ordered food you'll be brought a little basket containing pan y picos (a packet of small dry bread-sticks), a few slices of bread and your cutlery. They charge for this, usually between €0.60 and €1.50 per person. Yes, you're entitled to wave it away and save yourself some coins. No, you shouldn't do that. Even the locals are happy to pay this 'extra' service charge; besides, you'll appreciate the bread when it's time to mop up your oloroso sauce. Resist the temptation to pop the packet of picos in your pocket. Eat them at the table by all means, but locals here roll their eyes when tourists ‘steal’ an unopened pack that could be offered to the next customer; you’re paying for the service, not the bread.

Pay the bill/check

“La cuenta, por favor.” (La kwenta)

Check the printout carefully to make sure what you’re paying for is what you ordered. Nearly everyone here accepts payment by card, so you can add “con tarjeta” (tar-het-a), or simply proffer your cash.

Spanish people don't expect a tip on any service. That said, rounding-up when you pay in cash or leaving a euro or two in the tray after you've paid by card is a nice gesture if the service has been good. Just be conscious that there’s an anti-tipping sentiment across the country that’s very real – Spanish people don’t want to see an American-style tipping system creep in.

Still hungry?

Most places have a few postres on the menu, but desserts in Andalucía aren’t usually the star of the show. Spanish ice cream, on the other hand, is among the best in the world. There are quite a few heladerías in town and strolling around this beautiful city with a tub or cone of the good stuff is quite the Jerezano pastime.

Check out our interactive map of our favourite places to eat in Jerez.