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Sherry is not exactly a go-to beverage for most Canadians in August. It's hardly a go-to beverage for Canadians, period.

Sales of sherry, the genuine Spanish stuff rather than ersatz Canadian or Australian "sherry," declined more than 5 per cent in volume terms in Ontario last year, for example, compared with a 5.3-per-cent volume growth for wine, according to the Liquor Control Board of Ontario.

That's our loss. Chilled, dry sherry in particular (the adjectives are critical) is the oenological equivalent of a bracing, dry martini, ideal as an aperitif or summer pick-me-up.

It is also quite possibly the world's greatest white-wine value. A very good bottle can cost a mere $12; a truly great one no more than $20.

I think of dry sherry as the 19th-century, dime-a-dozen oyster of our time - wildly affordable decadence to be hoovered down before some wise-guy capitalist clues in and starts jacking up the price.

Coincidentally, it may also be the world's best beverage match for raw oysters, Chablis and muscadet notwithstanding.

For proof, check out such brands as Emilio Lustau, Bodegas Hidalgo or the classic Tio Pepe from Gonzalez Byass that are widely available across the country.

Just make sure you chill the bottle as thoroughly as you would a pinot grigio; these are light white wines, after all.

Bearing only scant resemblance to sweet sherry - as typified by Harveys Bristol Cream and stereotypically associated with Anglo-Saxon people of a certain age - dry sherry might as well go by another name.

Which, conveniently, it does, at least for those hip to its charms.

Fino and manzanilla are the two main bone-dry styles, and that's how locals order them in bars in and around the southern Spanish community of Jerez de la Frontera, where all true sherry is made.

Those locals, by the way, include the surrounding Andalusian region's famous bullfighters, for whom dry sherry is a daily fuel, appropriately bracing and typically enjoyed over a dish or two of tapas, the Spanish bar snacks.

Fino and manzanilla are unsweetened and aged for much less time in barrel than the amber, sweetened styles.

Consequently, they tend to be light in colour, even lighter a pale-straw pinot grigio. The unusual nutty tang comes mainly from a beneficial local yeast called flor that forms in a snowy layer on the surface of the wine while maturing in partly filled barrels.

Manzanilla is really just a fino imbued with an almost salty finish that some people fancifully attribute to the salt-spray air in the town of Sanlucar de Barrameda, where it's made. (The flavour actually comes from the yeast.)

A third style, amontillado, is usually amber and can be either dry or sweet, depending on the brand, though it is usually labelled accordingly to avoid confusion.

Though dry sherry is fortified with a small dose of brandy just like sweet sherry, it is usually notably lower in alcohol, at about 15 or 16.5 per cent compared with 18 to 22.

Fair warning: Dry sherry, because of its bitter tang, is an acquired taste.

But once you acquire it, there's no cure; you are stuck with the craving for the rest of your mortal existence.

After that, there's no need to worry, because they serve Lustau Manzanilla on tap in heaven - free.

So compelling a drink is dry sherry that the great American food writer M.F.K. Fisher was not just a fan, but actually dared to order it - a Spanish wine - in France.

In an essay entitled I Was Really Very Hungry, written in 1937 when she was 29, Ms. Fisher describes stopping in alone for lunch at an unnamed but "famous" restaurant near Dijon while on a long promenade back to her home in the region.

Judging by her description, I believe she is referring to Moulin des Ruats in Avallon, a converted old mill whose menu, with its signature dish of truite au bleu, or blue trout,reads pretty much the same today as it did back then.

The place was empty when she arrived, save for a cat purring under a fern by the window, and Ms. Fisher describes the temperature as hot.

All she could think of, besides getting enough sustenance for the kilometres ahead, was a glass of cold, dry sherry, regrettably "unknown in all the village bistros of the last few days." Trying to suppress the craving to spare disappointment, figured "it would be impossible to realize. Dubonnet would do. But not as well. I longed for sherry."

Miraculously, the waitress did produce a special brand bought directly from Spain by the chef, which says a lot for the stature of the restaurant at the time.

Getting most French waiters to admit other countries make wine can be a challenge even today.

Of course, she inhales her precious glass and, in the process, manages to work up a formidable appetite, which gives rise to the essay's title.

And that is another great thing about dry sherry. It's a well-known palate stimulant, the reason most people tend to sip it as an aperitif.

That's what Ms. Fisher does, choosing to switch to Chablis - ordering an entire bottle from the 1929 vintage for lunch, no less - as she braces for the lavish multicourse meal that unfolds before her.

She certainly wins my respect for that gesture of unbridled hedonism. But had it been me, I'd have stuck with the sherry. There's no more food-friendly wine in the world.

And, in particular, it would have paired more agreeably with the pickled herring and spicy duck terrine.

bcrosariol@globeandmail.com

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Tasting notes

Bone-dry and bracing, these sherries are for adventurous palates, enjoyed as aperitifs or as brilliant matches with a variety of foods.

Lustau Solera Reserva Dry Amontillado Los Arcos $19

From one of Spain's greatest producers. Amber, dry and medium-bodied, it's silky and nutty, with a core of dried fruit and Cognac-like nuance. Long, toasty finish. Serve with roasted nuts, cheese or soups.

Gonzalez Byass Tio Pepe Palomino Fino $16

The biggest name in dry sherry. Very dry with good body for a fino, tangy and salty, with a clean finish. Available across the country. Try with olives, oysters, cured ham or any light, salty appetizer.

Bodegas Hidalgo Manzanilla La Gitana $13/500 ml

Light, extra-dry and nicely rounded, with gorgeously balanced flavours of citrus, minerals and nuttiness, plus a prickle of saltiness on the finish. Beautiful. Try with fish.

Beppi Crosariol