My ancestors never saw a mint julep,
but they sipped five-day-old likker
out of ceramic jugs and Bell jars
until they could not remember
their
Christian names.
~ Rick Bragg
All Over But The Shoutin'
My hometown of Kansas City, Missouri is, a generous drinks geographer might allow, on the outer periphery of mint julep territory. While juleps were not regular offerings, they did show up from time to time. Consequently, I acquired at an early age a fondness for these refreshing concoctions of whiskey and ice; certainly by the time I was working on undergraduate degrees, making one had become second nature.
Charlie Dog enjoys a julep |
Charlie's minty repast on the veranda is short-lived. But the silver cup he commandeers from the colonel seemingly instilled in me a life-long appreciation for juleps. I'm beginning to understand why I like bulldogs, too...
Goes well with:
- The Barkeeper’s Favorite Weapon, just the thing to smack ice into submission for a julep.
- That's MY Hammer A bit about my father — a Kentucky Colonel — and the ice maul he made me for my juleps.
No comments:
Post a Comment