4 minute read
The Mint Julep
Keeping It Simple
Written by Rex Lyons / Photography by Eric Williams
How in the name of blankets of roses could a drink that so many people purport to hate cause so much consternation and caterwauling over the proper method of manufacture? The mint julep is as Southern as white pillars and hoop skirts. While we didn’t invent any of them, we know what we like in an image, and we are perfectly able to latch on to those we choose as part of our Southern traditions.
The fact is that at least three countries and most other Southern states claim the mint julep as their own. Today, most experts agree that it probably originated in Northern Virginia and soon spread to Maryland, down the Eastern Seaboard, and into Kentucky. That tidbit of history doesn’t faze Kentuckians in the least. We know where bourbon comes from and it’s a fact that you can’t make a proper mint julep without using good Kentucky bourbon whiskey. We also cheerfully ignore the fact that an unsouthernly Samuel Pepys mentioned the julep during the 1660s in England, some 100 years before a good Baptist minister in Bourbon County invented his superior way to use corn. That’s just history, and it's well known that we Southerners never let history or facts get in the way of a good story.
Now I must clarify that what I refer to as a mint julep has as little resemblance to that drink coming out of a plastic hose at large bars and enormous sporting events (get my drift) as a well-made backyard burger grilled over hickory charcoal resembles a White Castle burger. Not, I hasten to add, that there is anything wrong with a White Castle hamburger. I love them and have downed my fair share, usually in the middle of the night, and often to counteract the results of far too many mint juleps. However, it is apples and oranges. They are simply not the same item. It’s Dior versus dollar store; what more can be said?
I personally believe that the reason so many people profess to hate mint juleps is because they have never had one that was carefully, beautifully and individually prepared. Or, their maternal third grandmother was born in Vermont.
The oldest recipes seem to be the simplest. In 1803, John Davis, an English tutor on a Virginia plantation, wrote in his book, Travels of Four Years and a Half in the United States, that the mint julep is a “dram of spirituous liquor that has mint in it, taken by Virginians of a morning.” The Willard Hotel in Washington, DC still uses the recipe purported to be the one given to them by Henry Clay. No simple syrup, no mint infusion, just sugar, mint, shaved ice, spring water, and bourbon.
A turn of the 19th-century bar guide lists much the same recipe. Simple syrup arrived later as an easier method of dissolving the sugar in such an icy environment. Then, anarchy and chaos begin to reign! Infused mint, cooked mint, infused-cooked mint, chopped mint, ground mint, mint tied up in little doilies, confectioners sugar blended with mint – the combinations are staggering and dreadful. There is even one recipe that calls for boiling the mint, sugar, and water and pouring the bourbon into the hot mixture, then chilling the whole thing. I know, I know, quick – grab some smelling salts and get Momma off the floor! We won’t even mention the awful concoctions involving Maraschino cherries, candied pineapple, crème de menthe, brandy and tea, lest Momma succumb again!
You boil simple syrup; I muddle sugar (please no confectioners as it makes the drink cloudy). Infuse mint if you will, or bruise the little leaves with the back of a coin silver spoon - all of that is as unimportant and as personal as a chili recipe. What is important and cannot be ignored are the ingredients. You must have good Kentucky bourbon. OK, the one from Tennessee is fine also – it wants to be a Kentuckian so badly. Beautiful spring mint is so easy to grow that every Kentuckian should have a patch by the water tap or a pot sitting in the windowsill. You also need pure water, sugar or simple syrup, tons of shaved ice, and yes, a julep cup. You can make them in a glass or mug or those beautiful stoneware julep cups from Louisville Stoneware. When well chilled, all of these alternatives will work fine.
Give yourself plenty of time to make them and enjoy a true bit of the Old South. Right now, go make your juleps, relive Derby memories, and raise a cup to all of your friends, here and departed.
