Ahhh the Mint Julep….

I randomly whipped up a batch of mint juleps for a small gathering of lovely people just to see if I could do it, and I must admit they were pretty tastey and I was kinda pleased with myself…that is…until I read on about the drink and found this……..
The Mint Julep

The Mint Julep, a distinctive Southern drink, popular in the ante bellum South right up through modern times, is a mixture of water, sugar, mint leaves and, above all, bourbon whiskey. While it can be purchased today in modern drinking establishments in the South, those served there bear little resemblance to those served in the home. The serving of this elixir to family and guests on a hot summer afternoon was, and is, accomplished with the greatest fanfare and flourish to show respect for those receiving it. It is as much of a ceremony as it is a drink.
The following is a copy of a letter from Lieutenant General Simon Bolivar Buckner, Jr., USA [(VMI-1906, West Point-1908) killed on Okinawa June 18, 1945] to Major General William D. Connor, [Superintendent of the United States Military Academy at West Point] dated March 30, 1937. Buckner Jr. was the son of General Simon Bolivar Buckner of the Confederate army who surrendered Fort Donelson to General Grant, thus giving Grant his nickname of “Unconditional Surrender” Grant. This letter clearly demonstrates the esteem in which a “Mint Julep” is held.

My Dear General Connor:
Your letter requesting my formula for mixing mint juleps leaves me in the same position in which Captain Barber found himself when asked how he was able to carve the image of an elephant from a block of wood. He said that it was a simple process consisting merely of whittling off the part that didn’t look like an elephant.
The preparation of the quintessence of gentlemanly beverages can be described only in like terms. A mint julep is not a product of a formula. It is a ceremony and must be performed by a gentleman possessing a true sense of the artistic, a deep reverence for the ingredients and a proper appreciation of the occasion. It is a rite that must not be entrusted to a novice, a statistician nor a Yankee. It is a heritage of the Old South, and emblem of hospitality, and a vehicle in which noble minds can travel together upon the flower-strewn paths of a happy and congenial thought.
So far as the mere mechanics of the operation are concerned, the procedure, stripped of its ceremonial embellishments, can be described as follows:
Go to a spring where cool, crystal-clear water bubbles from under a bank of dew-washed ferns. In a consecrated vessel, dip up a little water at the source. Follow the stream thru its banks of green moss and wild flowers until it broadens and trickles thru beds of mint growing in aromatic profusion and waving softly in the summer breeze. Gather the sweetest and tenderest shoots and gently carry them home. Go to the sideboard and select a decanter of Kentucky Bourbon distilled by a master hand, mellowed with age, yet still vigorous and inspiring. An ancestral sugar bowl, a row of silver goblets, some spoons and some ice and you are ready to start.
Into a canvas bag pound twice as much ice as you think you will need. Make it fine as snow, keep it dry and do not allow it to degenerate into slush. Into each goblet, put a slightly heaping teaspoonful of granulated sugar, barely cover this with spring water and slightly bruise one mint leaf into this, leaving the spoon in the goblet. Then pour elixir from the decanter until the goblets are about one-fourth full. Fill the goblets with snowy ice, sprinkling in a small amount of sugar as you fill. Wipe the outside of the goblets dry, and embellish copiously with mint.
Then comes the delicate and important operation of frosting. By proper manipulation of the spoon, the ingredients are circulated and blended until nature, wishing to take a further hand and add another of its beautiful phenomena, encrusts the whole in a glistening coat of white frost.
Thus harmoniously blended by the deft touches of a skilled hand, you have a beverage eminently appropriate for honorable men and beautiful women.
When all is ready, assemble your guests on the porch or in the garden where the aroma of the juleps will rise heavenward and make the birds sing. Propose a worthy toast, raise the goblets to your lips, bury your nose in the mint, inhale a deep breath of its fragrance and sip the nectar of the gods.
Being overcome with thirst, I can write no further.

Sincerely,
Lt. Gen. S.B. Buckner, Jr.
VMI Class of 1906

it appears that I have a LONG.WAY.TO.GO. I’m ready to enjoy THAT journey:)

About attraversiamodarmaz

Midwestern girl who loves big city shopping (note - do not love high heels of any kind) * hate to say that first because I fancy myself a yoga chic too who is into feng shui and a minimalist life but it's just not all true!* I do forget to recycle* LOVE reading and music and most things crafty (the idea of them - very fickle and creative urges come and go faster than light or sound)* Grand chef and baker in my own mind and kitchen - love to mix and match recipes for a glorious new concoction* Gardening would be very successful - I have a flair but short attention span can cause casualties* True bliss is my home filled with three beautiful children (four on the weekends - an amazing Goddaughter)* did forget to feed the beautiful children lunch once when they were too small to remind me* can't find socks for all on some crazy mornings* I'm a learner who just can't help it...a writer in my head, and a college instructor for a half dozen classes a year* can't help my right brain optimism* been a foster mom* am a very grateful mom of adopted children* worst life moment: leaving the E.R. with an empty baby carrier* this is me...pretty much
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