Imbibist

Being a good drinking and gambling man (or couple), Lovely Girlfriend and I spent the weekend of the 2009 Kentucky Derby at a favorite Nevada casino resort. I will refrain from mentioning the name of the resort, as it generally offers an enjoyable experience. Indeed, this property is one of the few remaining casinos in Northern Nevada that is not overrun by the fortified wine, malt liquor, and methamphetamine crowds. I would hate to shame a decent establishment over a silly bartending mistake, but the mistake deserves to be retold.
 

A Traditional Mint Julep, courtesy of Velo Steve via Flickr.

We watched the race – an intense come from behind victory by the 50-to-1 long shot Mine That Bird – from the anxious confines of the sports book. After witnessing the historic finish, along with the expressions of anguish and elation from the betting populace, we felt it necessary to imbibe the traditional drink of the Kentucky Derby, the Mint Julep.
 

I realize there are many variations on this classic cup, but when I order a Mint Julep from a nondescript bar in a casino, I’m expecting Bourbon whiskey. After taking our order, the bartender filled two highball glasses with light rum and Sprite, and topped them with a sprig of mint. “There must be customers ahead of us,” I thought, until he presented the two glasses to me.
 

“Here you go,” offered the bartender.
 

“What’s this?” I replied.
 

“Mint Julep!”
 

“With rum and Sprite?”
 

“Yeah! Mint Julep!”
 

“I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to have Bourbon,” I said, carefully avoiding any accusations of ignorance.
 

Another patron chimed in. “That ain’t no Mint Julep, buddy. Yer supposed to use whiskey, goddammit!”
 

“No, Mint Julep! Here you go!” the bartender insisted.
 

And so we went, with drinks in hand and a new appreciation for local interpretation. Who were we to argue? In Reno, a flubbed Mojito and a Mint Julep are one and the same. For a more accurate and tastier take on the Mint Julep, see this entry from Imbibe Magazine.