#1 "A Once-in-a-Lifetime Mint Julep"

"Say When!" is a phrase used when pouring a drink, meaning "tell me when to stop" or "let me know when it's just right." I will be writing essays that you can enjoy slowly, just like savoring your favorite drink.

While the white rum-based Mojito is the most famous mint cocktail, for me, it is the Mint Julep, made by pouring bourbon over crushed mint and crushed ice.

In my young and impressionable days, I went through a phase where I was obsessed with "Gone with the Wind." At that time, "Gone with the Wind" was my nightcap. After finishing the final scene where Scarlett, having lost everything—Melanie dead, Rhett gone—whispers, "Tomorrow is another day," I would always drift off to sleep while dreaming of the story continuing with Rhett returning to Scarlett, amidst the waves of lingering emotion and excitement. I'll read that scene today, or maybe this scene tonight. Through such repeated piecemeal reading, I eventually came to admire Margaret Mitchell, the woman who spun this epic tale. Perhaps "Gone with the Wind" was always in the corner of my consciousness. I have forgotten the title now, but it was around that time that I read a biography about Mitchell during the period she was writing "Gone with the Wind."

It described the struggles she faced before settling on the perfect name for the protagonist, not Scarlett at first; her time at the newspaper; and Mitchell herself, who was just as charming as Scarlett. I remember it depicted the miracles and anecdotes leading up to the publication of "Gone with the Wind" in a way that linked to the novel. While there were no traces of the glamorous parties of the wealthy plantation owners that appear in the novel, the Mint Julep was still something Mitchell liked to drink at small summer parties. It appeared many times as a refreshing drink to soothe a throat parched by the dry red dust of an Atlanta summer.

Since then, I have longed to try one. In the biography, it was introduced not as a pretentious cocktail, but as a very casual drink. However, I could never seem to get my hands on that longed-for glass.
Every time I went to a bar with a solid wood counter, I would order a "Mint Julep," only to be turned down with a "I'm sorry, but..." Some places didn't even know the recipe, but a Mint Julep, which requires crushing mint leaves and pouring bourbon over them, cannot be made without fresh mint leaves. Perhaps it was my fault for ordering it regardless of the season, but in any case, they would say they couldn't make it because they didn't have fresh mint leaves.

I had half given up, but that day, I tried ordering a "Mint Julep" like a magic spell. I remember it was at the bar of the Fujita Hotel, which used to be along the Kamo River in Kyoto, though sadly it no longer exists. It was semi-basement, and the wall behind the counter was a floor-to-ceiling glass window. If you have ever enjoyed dining on a river terrace, you might have noticed that a narrow canal flows directly beneath the floor. The bottom edge of the bar window was just slightly above that canal. It was a stylish design where the Kamo River bank served as borrowed scenery through the long, narrow window.

My companion was a fast talker. While letting their words wash over me like ripples, I gazed at the Kamo River as it lay in the twilight beyond the window.
The bartender, with fluid movements, slid a coaster in front of me and placed a large glass on it. There was the sound of ice crunching. A faint, pale green streak wavered in the amber liquid. Yes, it was the Mint Julep I had longed for. Because I had been turned down so many times, I couldn't believe the glass placed before me.
My companion peered at me with a puzzled look as I just stared at the glass. Whether I told them the reason or not is now lost in the sea of oblivion.
I poured the first sip down my throat slowly, as if to cherish it. It was in that instant. Over the bartender's shoulder, I didn't see the Kamo River bank fading into dusk, but the land of Tara burning bright red in the sunset. Perhaps the longing and the exhilaration of the alcohol had conjured a vision. But the residue of that strange sensation remains in my memory even now.

It became an unforgettable drink for me. I haven't had a Mint Julep since.