I no longer doubt the existence
of the human soul
because I just felt mine shrivel and die.
~ Kat, commenting on JeffreyMorgenthaler.com
Ok, I have seen horrible things done in the name of making drinks (remember, I am, quite literally, the guy who wrote the book on moonshine). But the video here has got to be one of the most horrific.
Of course I made juleps on Derby Day. Lots of people do when they're playing the ponies. Around our house, though, juleps happen to be one of our regular year round drinks, but especially in the summer. I was nosing around, seeing what my friends and colleagues had to say on the matter, scanning an old postcard, researching julep cup prices and availability, digging up yellowed articles when I found How Not to Make a Mint Julep on Jeffrey Morgenthaler's blog.
Now, admittedly, tempers and voices have been raised over the years concerning the proper constitution of an authentic mint julep. But all those sparring colonels, newspapermen, and expatriot Southerners would have to concur: This is no mint julep.
In fact, the drink this poor girl makes is such a shudderingly bad misrepresentation of what a mint julep is that it approaches kitsch. The first time I watched, I was quite literally speechless. Limes? Rose's? Sprite? Just awful. And what a waste of bourbon! Call it something else—an Eight Belles Down, for instance—but salve me from benighted bartenders.
Next time you feel like ordering one of these out (an iffy proposition), do what I do and say, in a nonthreatening and noncommittal way, "Tell me about your mint julep." If it's not what you want, order something a little less controversial. Like an old fashioned.
.
of the human soul
because I just felt mine shrivel and die.
~ Kat, commenting on JeffreyMorgenthaler.com
Ok, I have seen horrible things done in the name of making drinks (remember, I am, quite literally, the guy who wrote the book on moonshine). But the video here has got to be one of the most horrific.
Of course I made juleps on Derby Day. Lots of people do when they're playing the ponies. Around our house, though, juleps happen to be one of our regular year round drinks, but especially in the summer. I was nosing around, seeing what my friends and colleagues had to say on the matter, scanning an old postcard, researching julep cup prices and availability, digging up yellowed articles when I found How Not to Make a Mint Julep on Jeffrey Morgenthaler's blog.
Now, admittedly, tempers and voices have been raised over the years concerning the proper constitution of an authentic mint julep. But all those sparring colonels, newspapermen, and expatriot Southerners would have to concur: This is no mint julep.
In fact, the drink this poor girl makes is such a shudderingly bad misrepresentation of what a mint julep is that it approaches kitsch. The first time I watched, I was quite literally speechless. Limes? Rose's? Sprite? Just awful. And what a waste of bourbon! Call it something else—an Eight Belles Down, for instance—but salve me from benighted bartenders.
Next time you feel like ordering one of these out (an iffy proposition), do what I do and say, in a nonthreatening and noncommittal way, "Tell me about your mint julep." If it's not what you want, order something a little less controversial. Like an old fashioned.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment