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I have been having a particularly stressful time with a well respected private bank, partly because my manager is off sick, but mainly because of on line banking burocracy, dressed up as security .I am tempted to put on a dark wig, a dowdy dress and repeat the Little Britain comment "the computer says no---"but my staff might think I have at last gone completely mad.
So instead being lunchtime I went to the fridge and poured myself a generous copita (that’s a decent sherry glass, designed to suitably titivate all the necessary senses, look, smell and taste stomach and brain) of very old dry oloroso from a single cask bottling by Emilio Lustau. {mosgoogle} I also put some Pata Negra ham and a hand full of almonds purchased at nearby Borough market (best for foodies in London)on a plate to have with the sherry. The warming alcohol, bursting intensity of rich nutty flavours, and extremely lingering very dry aftertaste made me feel a huge amount better. When I first started banking with this bank, the manager always offered me a glass of very good sherry , particularly around Christmas time. I always felt I was at the right place as the quality was so very much better than the disgusting brands that were so horrible, (sweet cloying to the roof of the palate, nasty smell approximating to vomit, all dressed up in a pretty blue bottle which are best used for poisons) that they killed peoples liking of sherry altogether. I am going to send a case of Old Dry Oloroso around to my bank this afternoon in the expectation that it will seriously improve the health of my manager, and might even make "the computer say yes!"
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