mint julep

MB may be drunk, but I'm sure not. This afternoon, a long walk home with MB after a few too many Mint Juleps on the patio. With the day still too young, and the sun still too high for serious drinking, we decide to take leave of the pub before the dinner rush. Walking down Main, MB confides in me:

"Even if I should accomplish a measly one third of the things I told myself I needed to do before I die, then I shall expire a happy girl."

"But whatever shall the happy girl think?"

"Pardon me?"

"Oh, nothing."

We take an unnecessary turn at 3rd Street, then another at 14th Avenue, before inexplicably ducking down a greyish alley. I point up to a pair of sneakers hanging from a power line.

"Why do you suppose people do that?"

"I suppose it's only reasonable that people should, when they get the opportunity, toss their old sneakers onto telephone lines."

I nod, solemnly, and we proceed to walk the length of the shady alleyway, and out the opposite side, before breaking out into warm sunlight. MB kisses me on the cheek beneath the sun (made only hotter, brighter, and more absurd by the afternoon of drinking), and tells me goodbye, that she'll see me tomorrow. We've arrived at her place, and I still have two blocks to go. I may be drunk, but MB sure isn't.

Mint Julep

The stuff

4 fresh mint leaves
1 fresh mint sprig
1 tsp powdered sugar
1 tbsp cold water
2½ ounces bourbon
finely crushed ice

The steps

First, the mint leaves, sugar, and water all go into a frosted collins glass. Then you crush the mint leaves with a bar spoon, and stir until the sugar is disolved. Pack the glass with your shaved ice, and add the bourbon. Top with more ice (if needed) and garnish with the fresh mint sprig. Serve with a straw. Or don't. For best effect, drink as many as possible.