09-25-2018 03:33:45 PM -0700
09-25-2018 12:59:29 PM -0700
09-25-2018 07:03:09 AM -0700
09-25-2018 05:55:42 AM -0700
09-24-2018 04:55:43 PM -0700
It looks like you've previously blocked notifications. If you'd like to receive them, please update your browser permissions.
Desktop Notifications are  | 
Get instant alerts on your desktop.
Turn on desktop notifications?
Remind me later.
PJ Media encourages you to read our updated PRIVACY POLICY and COOKIE POLICY.

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 here 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.


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 them 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.