On a warm and humid afternoon in May 1991, I sat with Chef Sin and my sister Heather at an outdoor cafe in the shadow of the magnificent Cathedral of Santa Maria de la Sede, largest Gothic church in the world, in Seville, Spain. And there I tasted my first Sangria.
It’s something every turista does, of course, but drinking Sangria also carries considerable local street cred. The late Penelope Casas, one of the the most respected American writers on the cuisine of Spain, called the mixture of wine and fruit “probably the most famous and popular Spanish drink … found in bars, restaurants, chiringuitos (seasonal cheap restaurants for beachgoers), as well as in the homes of Spaniards all over the country.”
Sadly, Sangria gets somewhat less respect in the craft cocktail world. Dale DeGroff includes a recipe in his “Summer Punches and Pitcher Drinks” section of The Craft of the Cocktail, calling such drinks “an adventure” and a perfect opportunity to utilize local, seasonal fruits. Adrienne Stillman, in her epic Spirited: Cocktails from Around the World, likewise gives Sangria its proper due as a legitimate mixed drink.
But most bartending guides seem to skip Sangria entirely, probably because the concoction is often (although not always) made with wine instead of hard spirits, and because of Sangria’s association with cheap drinks mixed in buckets in college dorm rooms. (There’s even a guide to making Sangria match your school’s colors.)
On a hot summer day, though, a refreshing Sangria is hard to beat. And it is literally made to drink by the pitcherful (although you really should share it with one or more other people unless you’re planning a long siesta followed by an evening hangover). I’m afraid I didn’t memorialize that first Sangria of mine in Seville—during the 1990s, photographing your food was not yet a thing—but in my mind I can still taste the cold tart-sweetness cutting through the Mediterranean mugginess.
As for making your own Sangria, you really don’t need a recipe; stir some fruit in with the wine, and pour into glasses over ice. Fresh fruit is better but not mandatory; cheapish wine is just fine. As Stillman told an interviewer, “Just don’t tell a winemaker you used his high-end Cab or Pinot for Sangria!”
Red wine is traditional in Sangria, but even Casas, in her 1,000 Spanish Recipes, includes a version using white wine. For this Sunday Special, we went with our everyday supermarket wine, a Coppola chardonnay. Local peaches are plentiful in Southern Oregon at this time of the year, but we used fresh store-bought raspberries. And the mint came from our own garden.
If you have different produce at hand, here are 17 other variations. And if you happen to be reading this in Seville, order a pitcher of Sangria at a sidewalk cafe. And send me a photo.
Sangría Blanca con Melocotones y Frambuesas
(White Sangria with Peaches and Raspberries)
Adapted from The Washington Post
2 ripe peaches, pitted and coarsely chopped, plus more for optional garnish
1 cup raspberries, plus more for optional garnish
3 tablespoons superfine sugar, plus more for sprinkling
One 750-milliliter bottle dry white wine, chilled
1/2 cup brandy or peach liqueur
1 handful fresh mint leaves (optional)
1 lemon, sliced into thin rounds
Sparkling water, for serving
Add the peaches and raspberries to a large pitcher, sprinkle lightly with sugar and stir. Let the fruit begin to break down (macerate) on the counter for 1 hour.
Add the wine, brandy, 3 tablespoons sugar, mint leaves if using, and lemon rounds; gently stir to combine.
Fill glasses with ice and evenly divide the sangria. Add a splash of sparkling water. If desired, place fruit on long skewers as a garnish.