Sunday Best

Who knew that instead of wasting our time brunching, we should have been spending our Sunday afternoons downing glasses of vermouth and sherry? A long-lived tradition in Madrid is to spend the Sabbath doing just that. On a recent trip, I was taken first to La Venecia in Santa Ana, the epitome of an old-man bar, complete with a grunting, laconic bartender and no-photos policy. The customers included, of course, old men - in suspenders and porkpie hats, no less - as well as the odd hipster looking grungy enough to pass muster. The bar doesn't accept tips, nor does its staff seem to tolerate much enthusiasm over the vermouth and sherry served from exposed barrels. When asked about producers, an annoyed "I don't know" was the response. I had a lovely dry fino, while my friend, Mateo, enjoyed an oloroso, as we both ogled the cured meats hanging from the back bar. At El 7 De La Cava in La Latina, a hip little box that could have been in Nolita, the vermouth was on tap, and the tapas were exceptional. We opted for a plate of rosemary-dusted manchego and three glasses of pure romance.