Julep Varietals

Reposted 5/7/22 (from 5/4/15)

Proposed By: David

Reviewed By: Jonathan

With a wife from Louisville and having lived there for several years, I can’t overlook the importance of the first weekend in May. Derby’s approach, like the pale green buds on trees and the flowers suddenly blooming everywhere, mark another season—and year—passing. With the odd slippage of time produced by the pandemic, the Derby’s been out of whack too, but, starting in April, my mind goes to drinking a Julep.

Truth is, I love mint juleps. Some people reject their sweetness, their potency, their price and wateriness at the racetrack, but not me. What could be better than whiskey and mint? Yet I’ve never ordered or made a Julep on any other weekend. Maybe someday, I’ll stride up to some bar in September or February—you can imagine saloon doors swinging in my wake, if you like—and say, “Barkeep, give me a damn Julep!”

I make my juleps with rye rather than bourbon and that’s about as adventurous as I get. However, the purpose of this revision was to try another variation. Which I reluctantly did. My choice was a Gin Julip recipe from Martha Stewart because gin is one of my favorite spirits and thought gin’s botanicals might play nice with mint. Since the drink involved muddling instead of cooking up some simple syrup in advance, it was easier to make. That’s about the limit of my praise, though. My first and last thought was, “Where’s the brown stuff?”

People often say you become more conservative as you get older, which is not at all something I’ve experienced, except in this case.

Jonathan’s Revised Review:

On Derby day it always starts with the classic Julep. Most years it is resplendent as the touch of sweetness and herbal mint elevates the very icy bourbon. This year it was okay but my home grown mint failed me.

The alternative drink, in this case the the Oaks Lilly (named for the Friday race at Churchill Downs), did not disappoint though. It is a mix of vodka (1.5 ounce), orange liqueur (.5 ounce, tart cranberry juice (3 ounce), fresh lemon juice .5 ounce and simple syrup (the recipe says .5 ounce but adjust depending on the cranberry). Stir the ingredients, or shake if you prefer, and serve over ice. Garnish with a lemon wheel and berries. The Lilly was both tart and sweet and can be adapted further with a splash of seltzer. For this Derby day it was far better than the favored Julep. Seems fitting.

David will propose our next retake. We will get back to new cocktails but we have to get back to regular posting first.

The Original Post from May of 2015:

When Jonathan and I went to the Kentucky Derby with our wives in the mid 80s, we parked our infield picnic blanket next to some proto-bros with a water balloon catapult. A couple of races in, they found their range and pinned a poor racing form seller inside his tin hut. An official-looking person arrived with commands to desist, but by then they were out of ammo anyway. Around three in the afternoon, they began launching their uneaten ham sandwiches instead.

People drink a lot at the Derby.

Churchill Downs’ mint juleps have a reputation for being a little watery, but I think I remember downing a few that day. And it makes me laugh when people talk about juleps as a genteel drink. At three parts bourbon to one part simple syrup, home versions can be quite strong. The idea is to sip them, allowing the ice to dilute their potency, but I enjoy them so much I seldom manage it.

A mint julep is technically a “smash,” a group of drinks defined by spirit (not necessarily bourbon), crushed ice, and macerated mint (or basil, or something leafy). The idea is to coat the glass with the oils of the leaf and lend an aromatic quality to the libation. In the classic julep, mint simple syrup is the short cut. In one of the julep alternatives I tried, “The Wild Ruffian,” (here’s a link to the recipe) the syrup is made of peach preserves, and the mint is pulverized with a muddler. That drink also called for cognac instead of bourbon, so I doubt anyone would recognize the concoction as a “julep.” Nor do I think Churchill Downs would ever serve one… or certainly not in the infield.

Another of the drinks both Jonathan and I tried was the Oaks Lily (recipe link), named for the featured race for fillies highlighting the day before the Derby. When I lived in Louisville, seeing the Oaks in the grandstands was actually affordable and accessible for commoners—no more, apparently—and the Oaks Lily is also suitably direct, relying on vodka over bourbon and cranberry and lime juices, plus a splash of triple sec, instead of simple syrup. Not a sprig of mint is to be seen anywhere, so it wouldn’t really qualify as a smash, just a way to preserve Saturday for the real julep.

As Jonathan explains below, he tried yet another julep alternative called a Bufala Negra, but, despite our experimentation, we both needed to make real juleps too. It’s not that they’re fancy—what could be plainer than 3:1 bourbon to syrup?—but they are tradition. And, if they are good enough for infielders, they are good enough for us.

Here’s Jonathan’s Review:

It has been my impression that there are many places where the idea of a mint julep is met with disdain. The drink is decidedly a bourbon concoction, but if you love bourbon you don’t need, or want, the dilution and sweetening of the mint or simple syrup. If it is the latter that you like, there’s a good chance that bourbon is not your favorite. All of that is a shame because of how well the flavors go together.

Many years ago David and I had a very bad bourbon experience, and I had sworn off the stuff. A beach trip with our siblings and families helped with my gradual tolerance, and eventual embrace, of the brown liquor. Each sibling had a night when they were responsible for dinner and a cocktail and David chose to make juleps. The key to his mix was a well-crafted mint simple syrup that, to me, makes the difference in a julep. By mixing mint in the syrup, there is no need for dissolving sugar in water, muddling of mint or waiting for the inevitable melding. The two ingredients just mix with their friend crushed ice and a long sip later make for a wonderful combination.

This week was about alternatives though and we tried a couple of them. The first was a drink that was suggested in Southern Living that both David and I tried. I trust that David has provided the recipe for the Blush Lily which is the magazine’s take on the classic drink. It is a nice alternative for those who don’t like bourbon although some may find it more tart than sweet with lime and cranberry as the juices. We tried adding a splash of Blenheim ginger ale and that seemed to address that aspect as well as extend the drink.

My second alternative julep is called the Bufala Negra. I have no idea where that name came from but it is a mix of bourbon and basil with an interesting twist:

4 basil leaves
1 tsp aged balsamic vinegar
½ ounce simple syrup
1.5 ounce bourbon

Muddle 3 basil leaves, balsamic vinegar, and simple syrup. Add bourbon, crushed ice and stir. Garnish with the remaining basil leaf.

The interesting part of this drink is how well the flavors mix. I was wary of drinking even a small amount of vinegar, but mixed with the basil and syrup it was a great match for bourbon. The end result was a less bourbon forward cocktail that still had the sweetness and herbal qualities of a classic julep.

Jonathan’s Take: The classic julep is still the best, but the Blush Lily is great for those who don’t love bourbon and the Negra is an interesting alternative for those who love variety.

David’s Take: The classic is still king, but the others are welcome variations

Next Time (and a note on this repost):

The last time we made a move toward restarting this blog, we both made The Pimm’s Cup intending to add our thoughts on revisiting the cocktail. That was two years ago. Maybe this time, we’ll manage to revisit the drink of Wimbledon well before the actual sporting event. The Pimm’s Cup is a classic drink of summer, and, like the Julep, there seem to be a number of varieties to showcase. Strawberry are a favorite of Derby parties, and it seems appropriate to make the next drink one that used that fruit.