Cream Sherry, la primera parte

Correct me if I'm wrong, but things that you buy at the supermarket are supposed to taste good. Sure, nobody likes Brussels sprouts, but at least they are tolerable. I find chocolate to be horribly offensive (it's true), but I can understand that for 99.9% of humanity, it tastes pretty good.

Nobody told that to the geniuses behind Romate Cream Sherry, from Jerez, Spain. I like to imagine that there was a meeting held in a smokey, dimly lit conference room at Romate International Headquarters, which is also Sanchez Romate's barn. In this meeting, a secret braintrust consisting of Sanchez, his inbred cousin Raul, and Raul's favorite goat decided what to do with the family inheritance, left to the Romate cousins by Raul's father/uncle, Guillermo.

In my mind, Raul wanted to invest all of the money in the finest grapes in Spain. "People will not be able to resist our Sherry's delicious flavors," urged Raul in perfect English, mostly because I don't really speak Spanish.

Sanchez disagreed with his cousin. "Anyone can make half-decent Sherry. What will make Romate stand out from its competitors? Not its taste. Its wrapping". And so Romate International Headquarters were soon filled with sad, droopy grapes from a vineyard near an onion patch, and night and day, passers-by could hear the sounds of stomping from blister-footed grape crushers.

Sure enough, Sanchez was right. Nobody cared that the Sherry bearing Sanchez Romate's name was absolutely horrible. They were drawn to its shiny, expensive gold wrapping like moths to a bug-zapper. And thus it came to be that Aaron and Will purchased Romate Cream Sherry and brought it to the apartment.

to be continued...