The laid-back Spanish city where sherry and seafood rule

Aerial view of the church of Nuestra Senora de la Encarnacion overlooking the white village of Olvera at sunrise, summer view, Cadiz province, Andalusia, Spain

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The slow train from Seville glides into Cádiz station, the final stop. It may be at the end of the line but this promontory dangling off Spain’s southern Atlantic coast, moored to the mainland by a thin skein of land like an umbilical cord, was once one of the richest, most powerful mercantile centres in Europe. Phoenicians settled here around 1100 BCE, naming the place Gadir, but the mid 18th century was when Cádiz hit its golden age stride. Strategically placed between the Americas, the West Indies and the Mediterranean, the city accumulated fantastic wealth through maritime trade. The memory of untold riches clings to the city’s elegant facades.

Contemporary Cádiz is a study in chiaroscuro. Wander the narrow streets of the old town and you may catch the scent of church incense wafting from a doorway. Turn a corner and your retinas are hit by a sudden blast as golden sunlight glints off white walls and glimmers from the sea that’s never far from view.

Much of it is a zona peatonal – no cacophonous car horns, no choking fumes. From the city centre you can reach most places in half an hour without trying too hard. Getting lost in the maze-like streets, stopping for a thick dark chocolate caliente or a cool glass of bone-dry fino sherry as the mood strikes, letting time slip slowly by – that’s the point of the place. The Italians may cherish their dolce far niente, doing sweet nothing, but gaditanos (Cádiz residents) raise the concept to an art form.

Cadiz, view at the Cathedral, Andalusia, Spain

Exploring the market

Get your gastronomic bearings with a morning visit to Mercado Central – Spain’s oldest covered market, established in 1838. Being on the Atlantic, seafood is plentiful. At the gleaming displays in the fish hall you’ll spot species you’d struggle to find elsewhere, such as atún rojo (a type of bluefin tuna caught during the April-June seasonal migration) and a rainbow of prawns from giant red carabineros to the tiny shrimp that are turned into tortillitas de camarones – chickpea- and wheat-flour fritters (a crunchy, savoury speciality that’s not to be missed).

Among the flurry of market stalls, and in shops and tapas bars across the city, are signs for ultramarinos. The term is nothing to do with creatures from the deep sea. ‘Ultramar’ translates as ‘overseas’, a term that recalls Cádiz’s 18th-century history as a provisioning post. Ultramarinos shops selling dry goods for ships’ stores – beans, cheese, cured meats and the like – sprang from this commerce.

In Cádiz the tradition survives in food shop cum tapas bars such as La Cepa Gallega (9 Calle Plocia), founded in 1920, and Bar El Veedor, where menus zone in on smoked, cured and preserved products, with pride of place given to seafood packed in colourful tins. Long before the tinned fish revolution hit the UK, Iberians have nurtured a passion for canned comestibles. As any Spaniard will tell you, artisanal tinned goods deserve as much respect as a good sourdough, a well-made cheese or a good wine. Pull up a stool, order from the list of conservas on the menu and join the revolution.

An evening in Cádiz

The siesta is respected in Cádiz and a few hours’ rest before the evening tapeo (‘tapas bar crawl’ but actually more a civilised saunter) is a thoroughly sensible strategy. Batteries recharged, an earlyevening aperitif at Taberna La Manzanilla is practically mandatory. White-coated proprietor Pepe serves tasting-size measures straight from the barrel. His patience and enthusiasm in explaining the difference between an amontillado and an oloroso, or why that pedro ximénez sherry is so richly dark and sweet, turns sherry sceptics into enthusiasts, night after night.

Head south to the La Viña neighbourhood for the city’s most vibrant dining and drinking scene. You’ll spot Taberna Casa Manteca by the queues forming outside before doors open at 8.30pm. It’s busy and buzzy, and it gets pretty lively, especially at weekends. It serves the crunchiest tortillitas de camarones, Cádiz-style chicharrónes (slow-roasted, thinly sliced pork belly) and excellent sherries – all best enjoyed standing at the bar, elbow to elbow with fellow diners, admiring the bull-fighting posters and fading photos of celebs who’ve eaten here.

A short stroll away, El Faro de Cádiz serves some of the best seafood in town. Feast on local red tuna with garum hollandaise, or those big red carabinero prawns grilled on the plancha. From the piscine to the porcine: Mesón Cumbres Mayores in the north of the city is the destination for nose-to-tail meaty pleasures. Hanging jamónes and a dark-wood interiors give the place the air of a Velázquez painting come to life but the vibe is genial. You won’t leave hungry after the house special of carrilladas (pork The siesta is respected in Cádiz and a few hours’ rest before the evening tapeo (‘tapas bar crawl’ but actually more a civilised saunter) is a thoroughly sensible strategy cheeks) slow-cooked until fall-apart tender, or the kidneys cooked in oloroso sherry.

Bacalao orang and beetroot salad El Faro de El Puerto copy

Time to try some sherry

You may notice an emerging theme here: sherry. It’s on every menu, every drink list and it finds its way into many a cooked dish too. For centuries it was the life blood of the region and its three main sherryproducing towns – Jerez, Sanlúcar de Barrameda and El Puerto de Santa María. El Puerto, a 30-minute catamaran crossing from Cádiz, was once the heart of Spain’s sherry trade: its ancient cobbled streets clattered to the sound of casks being loaded onto ships, many bound for England. The local style, called puerto fino, is pale and bone dry with a salty tang that practically cries out for a plate of anchovies.

Get a feel for the town’s past with a tour and tasting at the family-run Bodega Gutiérrez-Colosía on the banks of the Río Guadalete. In its cathedrallike ageing room sit rack upon rack of old oak barrels, holding sherries that have been maturing for generations. “These wines are like a time capsule,” said our guide Imma. “They have been here before, during and after us, and it’s our work to look after them.”

El Puerto’s monumental bullring was built in 1880, and the storks nesting on the roof of the imposing Iglesia Mayor Prioral church, flying clumsily as they come and go, draw tourists’ attention – but most come here for the food. Traditionalists flock to Restaurante El Faro de El Puerto for the impeccable local seafood. Top tip: opting for the less-formal high table seating will allow you to greedily partake of a wider range of tapas-sized dishes, such as orange and bacalao salad or grilled white prawns from nearby Huelva. At three-Michelin-starred Aponiente, chef Ángel León gives new meaning to the term seafood with an experimental take that turns hake collagen into noodles, and fish protein into sausages. Ángel’s creativity springs from his commitment to ocean conservation and sustainability.

Close up tasty fortified wine from Andalusia, Spain, different types of sherry in glasses and olives, colors of Andalusisa

Head up the coast

Further up the coast, Sanlúcar de Barrameda sits where the Río Guadalquivir meets the Atlantic. Like El Puerto the existence of this old city, with its elegant Moorish architecture and good-times seaside buzz, is tied to the sherry trade. The pale dry style here is called manzanilla and it too has a salty taste redolent of old cellars and sea breezes. The best way to enjoy it? Head straight for the beach, a gorgeous stretch of golden sand that fills with holidaying Sevillanos in summer. The Paseo Marítimo will take you straight to Taberna Bigote, a local institution where visitors and locals come together over platefuls of beautiful seafood, be it fresh or fried, raw or tinned. Arrive in good time, order a copa of cold manzanilla and watch the sun slip into the sea. You’ll understand why this corner of Andalucía casts such a delicious, magical spell.