The people of Jerez play a waiting game. They gather for idle chat in palm-laced plazas. They toy with tapas. They wait for June, when the workers head out into the vineyards to plant young vines in the chalky soil. They wait for the sherry to age in oak barrels, dripping from one barrel to the next until, after at least three years, the first batch, the light, dry fino, is ready.