Jazz and Cocktails
Louie Armstrong, “Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans.” This is a live performance, but I haven’t been able to figure out where or when. I do know the musicianship on display is breathtaking.
We have a choice here between a Hurricane or a Mint Julep, but Melissa still has all that mint growing in the garden. So, Mint Julep it is.
We also have to hurry up and play this one — and drink this one — before we lose the very last of the summer weather. Monument Hill cooled off a couple weeks ago, and doesn’t look likely to warm back up very much before the autumn sets in.
You’ll need:
2.5 ounces Kentucky bourbon – Maker’s Mark preferred
2 fresh mint sprigs
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon water
If you happen to have your wife’s grandmother’s old julep glasses, by all means give them a quick polish and use them. If not, a Collins glass will do. My wife likes hers a little weaker and a little sweeter, so I double the water and sugar for her.
Trim your mint sprigs so that they’re the right height to serve as garnish. Trim off all the lower leaves, then muddle them in the bottom of the glass with the sugar and the water. Muddle them hard and release all that minty goodness.
Fill the glass all the way to the top with shaved or crushed ice, pour in the bourbon, then top off with a little more ice. Stick in a straw (we’ve got to get silver ones to go with the glasses!) then garnish with the sprigs.
Here are the two I just made.
Cheers.
AND ANOTHER THING: I’d usually leave it at that, but sipping at my cocktail and listening to Armstrong got me thinking. Or, as close to thinking as one can do on a sunny Saturday afternoon spent sipping at a cocktail and listening to Armstrong. What I’m thinking is, the huge debt we owe to Louis Armstrong.
Without Armstrong, jazz and pop as we know them simply wouldn’t exist. He did more than any other single artist to define both — and he did so as an instrumentalist of unparalleled talent and as a vocalist of sublime and restrained emotiveness. Without Louis, how do you get to Charlie Parker? Without Louis, how do you get to Ella or Frank? He’s the guy who started it all.
Oh, and he wasn’t a bad actor, either, with 18 movies to his name.
We’re lucky we had him. I’m going back to my cocktail now.
Raise your glasses to a couple of Armstrongs today.
No mint, so a bourbon and water will have to do. *raises glass once to each Armstrong*
– one small sip for a man, one giant gulp for Mankind.
Thanks for reminding me (again) of the great state I came from. If it weren’t for Louisiana and its brilliant musicians, you’d all be humming Sousa marches and Stephen Foster tunes. I daresay you’d need a lot more bourbon to make that enjoyable.
You’re welcome.
We are a grateful nation.
103 proof Fighting Cock, I like might strong…
Louis Armstrong and a Mint Julep. I’m in.
A thank you toast: Louis Armstrong, for the music of my life and Neil Armstrong, for taking a giant leap for mankind. May humanity someday be worthy of you both.
I remember a TV program about bourbon in which one of the operators of a well-known, family-run label was asked about whether he used a mint julep glass. “It makes the drink taste like a roll of cold nickels,” he said.
I bought a pair of stainless steel martini glasses once, because I thought they’d be great for camping. But all I could taste was the steel, not the gin or vodka. I’m happy to report no such problem with the mint julep cups. But it wouldn’t surprise me if sensitivities to that differ.
i saw him live in kansas city in the mid 60s towards the end of his career. he was extraordinary. thanks for bringing back that memory.
Aw, you missed a chance to do a Sazerac!
I get a different set of comments when I come in from the Instapundit link than I do from your original post.
What’s up with that? (yes, I posted this comment there too.)