Category Archives: food

lobster-wine

Lobster feast made better with Iberian wines

Lobster: that quintessential luxury seafood dish that takes center stage however it’s served, whether it be alongside a choice cut of steak, mayo’ed up and served in a roll, or just by itself, cracked open and ready to dip and dab to buttery perfection. Lobster can have its rightful status as the great meal it is. How could it be any better?

Well, by pairing it with a crisp, mineral-heavy wine, of course. I indulged in a trio of lobster dishes and paired some great wines from Spain and Portugal, two countries that have rapidly become favorite go-tos for great wine.

It has become a summer tradition of mine to treat my family (a la Parks and Recreation’s Tom Haverford’s “Treat yo’ self!” mantra) to a slew of yummy lobster dishes. The best thing to do is buy a bunch of lobsters all at once, checking the local grocery stores and markets for when the deals hit, and plan out a number of dishes to have throughout the week with that all-delicious crustacean.

I started by purchasing seven Maine lobsters, all between 1.25 and 1.75 pounds, live from a local grocer. If you’ve never purchased live lobster before, be sure that you plan to cook and eat them that same day. With lobster, freshness is of absolute importance. However, following some simple tips, you can keep a lobster alive and healthy for up to 48 hours, should you need to. I recommend putting the lobster in a large cooler, wrapped in damp newspaper (or better yet, cardboard, as it’s more durable). Put a little bit of ice in the cooler. Keeping the lobsters cold will make them docile and easy to handle, slowing them down.

Get a large pot, like a turkey fryer, and boil the necessary amount of water, which is obviously dependent on the amount of lobsters you plan to boil. I don’t follow any particular recipe for this part. Chop up a couple of lemons, quarter 3 to 4 onions, chunk-chop some celery stalk, and toss it in the water. Season to your heart’s delight with Old Bay.

Once that water is at a good boil, submerge your lobsters alive … yes, alive. If you have something against cruelty to animals, get someone else to do this part and just close your eyes and bite your lip. You don’t want to kill the lobsters beforehand, but should one accidentally die, be sure to cook it as soon as possible. Lobsters that die prior to cooking have a reputation for being slimy and gross.

Boil for about 12 minutes; the more lobsters in the pot, the longer it may take.

Meal #1: Boiled whole lobster

This was a simple one. Pull the lobster out of the pot, cool it down at least enough to handle (the critters will keep cooking in the shell, I’ve found) by running some cool water over the lobster. Put it on a plate, crack, and begin the feast.

To accompany this meal, I chilled a bottle of 2012 Ulacia Txakolina and opened just prior to serving. The wine, by itself, seems like it would be a great aperitif, but it also was a perfect pairing with the lobster. It has a low alcohol level of 11 percent, so it is not overbearing relative to the flavor of the lobster, which I obviously wanted to savor.

The wine is made from a blend of Hondarrabi Zuri and Hondarribi Beltza, from the Getariako Txakolina region of northern Spain in Basque County. If you’ve never heard of those grapes before, no worries. They produce wines that are very similar to the wines of Vinho Verde, a more well-known wine region in northern Portugal that is across the border from Galicia (and which we discussed last week).

This particular wine had a great herbal and floral aroma with high carbonation, near sparkling, so it danced nicely on the tongue. There was a bit of acidity up front, but what I liked most was the minerality that matched nicely with the natural saltiness of the seafood. The wine had a dry and subtle finish that was truly refreshing. I give it a B+. You can find this wine at a great price ($15 is what I paid), and it’s meant to drink young, so buy up and have often!

Three lobsters down, four left. What to do? That night, I cleaned out the other lobsters, pulling all the usable meat and storing it in air-tight dishes and refrigerating.

Meal #2: The now-infamous Paula Deen’s lobster rolls

If you’ve never had a true lobster roll, march yourself to New England and indulge in one the best treats you can give yourself. While Paula Deen is loudly and proudly Southern, I found her recipe to be very reminiscent of the lobster rolls I’ve had in Maine and Massachusetts. Here’s her recipe. If the lobster meat has already been shelled, this is an easy-as-pie meal.

For this, I decided to stick with a wine that was similar to what I had the night before, but i jumped the border to Portugal and went with a $14 bottle of 2012 Niepoort Dócil from Vinho Verde. It’s made of 100% Loureira grape, with a perfume-heavy floral scent that is very attractive and pale yellow in tone, even somewhat opaque. The wine had noticeably more citrus up front than the previous night’s wine, but it gave way to the same granite-like minerality and a crisp finish.

Also at 11 percent alcohol, it was an easy-drinking wine that made for a pleasant chilled, lunchtime beverage. I could taste more of the steel in this one (it being steel-fermented) in the aftertaste, which was not something I personally favored. I didn’t get this from some other wines that were also steel-fermented, so it was a curious afterthought. A solid B rating.

Meal #3: The even more infamous (maybe) Martha Stewart’s Lobster Newburg

This is a great dinner meal to accompany other seafood sides, like spiced shrimp skewers or a filet of your favorite fish, along with some Old Bay cheddar biscuits. Here’s the easy to follow recipe. I followed it pretty much to a tee, but I made sure to stick with the Iberian wine theme and used a nice, medium-dry Spanish Amontillado sherry in the recipe. I had a bottle of non-vintage Valdespino Tio Diego Amontillado on my wine rack that has a nutty and creamy persistence to it, so I used that; this sherry was also good for sipping on after dinner.

During the meal, we drank a slightly chilled bottle of 2009 Peza do Rei Blanco, produced by the Adega Cachin winery, with grapes grown in Ribeira Sacra, Galicia, Spain. The wine makes use of a number of varietals in a blend of 70 percent Godello, 20 percent Treixadura, and 10 percent Albariño. I feel like this wine, less yellow and almost clear in color, was the most complex and added the most as a lobster accompaniment.

The Peza do Rei had a high dose of minerality and gave off an almost charcoal-like flavor that made me think it would match well with grilled seafood (something to remember the next time I grill some flounder or swordfish!). The acidity is not as potent in this wine, but it’s there in the form of tropical fruit hints. Like the others, it ended with a refreshing crispness that cleansed the palate. A great wine, A- rating, and at only $19, a best buy. This vintage might be at its peak, but the wine producer has already released 2010s and 2011s, so there is that to look forward to.

All in all, my two-day lobster feast was made all the better by trying some great wine offerings from northern Spain and Portugal. The Iberian peninsula’s white wines and seafood seem to pair extremely well.

tantalus

We all scream for … frogurt? Divine delicacies defined

By the gods, do I ever love ice cream. I would be eating ice cream right now if I had some. It’s like, 80 degrees in my house because I’m cheap when it comes to my electric bill, and it’s a struggle for me not to buy and consume the delicious, delicious foodstuff on a daily, if not hourly, basis during these warm months. Maybe you can relate.

But it’s not just ice cream either. There are a spate (spate, I say!) of frozen yogurt shops springing up all over the place, and you’d be remiss not to visit Rita’s for Italian ice once or twice this summer. Perhaps the elusive ice cream truck will stop by with its merry song, delivering frozen dairy product to your front door.

Where do we get all these tasty desserts, and how do they differ from each other?

Ice cream, of course, is best during warm weather, but modern refrigeration techniques (vapor compression) have only been in use since the mid-1800s. How did the people get their refreshing cold desserts before that? The Persian empire would save snow in a domed building called a yakhchal (“ice pit”), in which evaporating water kept the temperature cool. If a city was close enough to a mountain, citizens could also send runners to the higher elevations and fetch fresh snow. They would pour grape juice on the snow and eat it. Just like mom used to make.

Around 200 B.C., the Chinese first used an ice cream-making device that looks like the kind of thing you can buy at Walmart today: a container that gets dunked in snow and salt, to lower the freezing point of the water, then sloshed around until the milk and rice have frozen inside. This was pretty much standard practice for the next 2,000 years.

More recently, ice cream became more accessible and popular along with the onset of refrigeration, and the ice cream sundae (a respelling of “Sunday,” due to religious deference?) made its appearance in the late 19th century. Shortly thereafter, the ice cream cone, the soda fountain/ice cream parlor, and soft serve ice cream (in which air is mixed in to make the product lighter and allow it to move through a spigot) came along.

Aside from straight-up ice cream, we also have frozen custard, frozen yogurt, gelato, sorbet/Italian ice, and sherbet. The fab five?

Custard was invented in 1919 by the Kohr brothers, who basically beat egg yolk into the ice cream to keep it cold longer for afternoons on the Coney Island boardwalk.

Yogurt (Turkish, “to be curdled”), of course, is a deeply storied food, stretching back at least four millennia in India and the Middle East. It’s made by introducing bacteria cultures to milk. The bacteria ferments the lactose into lactic acid (like when milk curds but … tastier), which makes it squishy and sour. The frozen variety was introduced in 1970, but only really came into its own with TCBY (The Country’s Best Yogurt) in 1981. Froyo went through a low in the late 90s (probably because marketing suggested a different Ice Cream of the Future) but has been coming back strong in the last few years. Though typically, when I go to a frogurt place, I pour just a little bit of yogurt and add like 500 pounds of toppings.

Gelato is from Latin gelatus (“frozen”). In the United States, there’s no specific differentiation between gelato and ice cream, although ice cream has to have a certain amount of milk fat (10 percent — less than that and you have to call it a “frozen dairy product”). Gelato, on the other hand, can be anything, though it is typically airy and highly fatty. Like I like my … men?

Sorbet and sherbet share the same root: Arabic sharbat (“a drink”). They are different things, though! At least in America, sorbet and Italian ice (or water ice) contain no dairy products, just frozen fruit juice, making it sweeter and giving it that sort of flaky consistency. Sherbet (also sometimes called sherbert, a recurring character in the Dilbert comic strip notreally) has 1 to 2 percent milk fat, which cuts the fruity sweetness and makes it scoop up more like ice cream.

So now that we’re caught up on mortal desserts, let’s see what the gods are slurping down in the heat. Contrary to what you might think, they aren’t all immortal just because. No, they get longevity from tasty treats, which is sort of the opposite of how we work in the mortal realm. For instance, the Greek gods would chow down on nectar (Proto-Indo-European: nek, “death”; tar, “overcoming”) and ambrosia (Indo-European n-mer-to: mer, “to not die”; to, “being”).

Now, the gods are typically quite possessive about their grub. When Tantalus (root of our “tantalize”), a mortal king, ate at the gods’ table, he sneaked a bit of ambrosia into his doggy bag and took off. The gods punished him by locking him in the nether regions of Hades, where he couldn’t reach the fruit hanging over his head or the water below him, forever yearning and never being able to sate his hunger and thirst. Well, they did that either because he stole their fruit punch or because he carved up his own son into a pie and tried to feed him to the gods for brunch one time. Hard to say.

It’s not just the Greek gods who get immortality from their desserts. The Hindu angelic devas had to recover their longevity after a curse was placed on them. They convinced the demonic asura to help out, promising half of the life-giving, milky amrita (same root as “ambrosia”). After churning the ocean, using a giant snake king and a mountain, the devas got their juice and left the demons poisoned by the snake king’s toxic breath, unable to reap the benefits after all. Sneaky buggers.

The Norse gods, too, needed snacks to keep up their lifespans. In their case, the goddess Iðunn (“ever young”) tended apples that reversed aging in those who ate them. At one point, the giant bird Þjazi, a jötunn and enemy of the gods, coerced Loki into luring Iðunn away from her orchard in search of interesting apples, and Þjazi kidnapped her. The other gods started to age and wither, and they forced Loki (who just gets pushed around a lot in this story) to get her back. Loki transformed into a falcon and flew to where Iðunn was kept and turned her into a nut, which he could carry on his back, and flew her home. Hooray for ambiguously heroic/villainous trickster gods!

So whether you’re chilling out this summer with ice cream, frogurt, or immortality-granting produce, remember that you won’t win the gods’ favor by trying to feed them your progeny. Cheers, and we’ll see you next week!

pancakes2

Recipe: Homemade Greek yogurt skillet pancakes

I’m a morning person. I can get up at 5 a.m. and be bursting with energy (which is unfortunate for the people who see me at that time and look like they want to punch me right in my word hole). One of my favorite things about those wonderfully peaceful hours before other people wake up is breakfast. I would eat breakfast foods for every meal if I could.

Upon discovering that I’m lactose intolerant, I found the downside to my favorite time of day: A lot of breakfast recipes have milk in them. I realized I could no longer have a lot of things I used to eat (albeit with some discomfort afterwards, but I had chosen to ignore it all those years).

But I would not forsake my love of breakfast, so I had to do something. I realized the simple fix would be to go buy some Lactaid and call it a day, but I refuse to make anything that simple. It’s much less fun that way. So instead of caving and joining the drug-dependent masses, I decided to embrace my newfound food “limitations” and create dishes that my milk-free self could consume. Challenge accepted.

I was pleased to discover that I could have certain dairy-based foods in smaller doses, such as cheese and Greek yogurt. So when I woke up one morning desperately craving pancakes, I sought a recipe that cut out the milk. To my delight, I found quite a few. And since I had some extra Oikos plain Greek yogurt in my fridge that needed to be used, I decided to make some skillet pancakes.

I altered the original recipe I found via Pinterest because the batter came out looking like cookie dough. (“Ladle the batter” my ass.) They used Chobani, but any sort of Greek yogurt will do the trick. I’ve also found that plain Greek yogurt is wonderful in all sorts of recipes, but you can substitute different flavors. (I won’t eat plain Greek yogurt straight though. I think it tastes horrid.)

All in all, I was pleased with the results of this experiment. I added a little bit of cinnamon to the recipe — and chocolate chips to the second half of the batter — to switch things up. I think next time I may not spread out the batter as much so they stay a bit thicker.

I also used Silk Almond Milk (Original) in my version so it was the right consistency, but since the original recipe didn’t have that included, I just eye-balled as I was mixing until the batter looked right.*

I hope you enjoy these pancakes as much as I did! Leave a comment to let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions for this recipe or what to do next!

HOMEMADE SKILLET PANCAKES

2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup Oikos Greek nonfat yogurt (plain)
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup Silk almond milk (original) * (see notes above)
Dash of cinnamon, to taste
Semi-sweet chocolate chips
Margarine for a nonstick skillet

Greek yogurt skillet pancakes

Preparation:

In a mixing bowl, add sugar, egg, baking soda, salt, oil, vanilla extract, and yogurt; using a whisk, mix by hand. Add flour; mix thoroughly. I then added about 1/2 cup of almond milk and a dash of cinnamon to give the batter a different flavor and get it to the right consistency.

Cooking pancakes can be tricky because they can cook too quickly or end up soggy in the middle. Lightly coat your nonstick skillet with margarine. Turn your burner on a low heat; don’t let it overheat and smoke. Using a small ladle or spoon, pour batter into skillet. Leave room to flip each pancake comfortably. Cook the pancakes until bubbles form across the top of each one. Flip, and cook the remaining side until the center of each pancake is firm.

I made half with chocolate chips. I think they’re fine without them, but I was really craving chocolate. How many you can make at one time depends on the size of your skillet. I just made them one at a time.

This recipe made 6 pancakes.

cookie1

Recipe: Chocolate coffee café cookies

You know how your parents always told you “No dessert before dinner” as a kid? I decided that, as a 20-something adult, I will eat dessert when I please. And if that means cookies for breakfast, then darn-it-all, I will have cookies for breakfast.

In addition to my fondness for baked goods, I’m a coffee fiend. I have had an unhealthy, borderline obsessive, this-girl-should-probably-not-drink-coffee-in-public-because-the-noises-coming-out-of-her-are-making-me-uncomfortable relationship with coffee. In college, I drank two pots a day. And when I say pots, I mean the 12-cup, family-sized pots. And I drank it alone. Straight from the pot if I was busy. I should probably be ashamed, but I’m really not.

Since my school days, I’ve cut back significantly. I’m down to about six cups a week. (And when I say cups, I don’t mean the 6-ounce recommended daily intake cups because, let’s be serious, no one adheres to the suggested dosage.) However, the second I saw a recipe that combined coffee and chocolate chip cookies, I got all jittery like an addict looking for a fix. Combining two of my favorite things for an incredibly sweet breakfast cookie was enough to make me giddy, no caffeine necessary.

I was so pleased with how these cookies came out (and that I had something sweet with my breakfast for the week) that I had to share this holy coffee-and-cookie union.

I ran out of the regular-size chocolate chips mid-recipe (should’ve checked, but hey, what’s the point of baking without a bit of improvisation?), so I ended up using a combination of the mini semisweet chips and the normal-sized ones that I had, which made the cookies delightfully more chocolatey. I also used instant coffee because espresso crystals were harder to find in my area; I may order online next time. I chopped the pecans with a food processor so the nuts were more evenly distributed in the cookies (and to match the tiny chips, I suppose).

In any case, I will definitely be making these again (sooooo delicious), because why settle for one good thing when you can combine a few? Enjoy, my fellow coffee and chocolate lovers!

FOR THE COOKIES:
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup butter or margarine, softened
1 whole egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon instant coffee granules or instant espresso crystals
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped pecans
12 ounces by weight semisweet chocolate chips (about 2 cups)
 
FOR THE GLAZE:
1/2 teaspoon instant coffee granules or instant espresso crystals
1 tablespoon hot water
1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar*

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 350 F.
In a large bowl, beat sugars, butter, egg, and vanilla with an electric mixer on medium speed until creamy.
On low speed, beat in flour, coffee granules, baking soda, and salt. Stir in pecans and chocolate chips.
Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls 2 inches apart onto ungreased baking sheets.
Bake at 350 F for 10-12 minutes or until golden brown and edges are set. Cool on the pan for 2 to 4 minutes; remove cookies from pans to wire racks and cool completely.

For the glaze:

In a small bowl, dissolve instant coffee in hot water. Stir in confectioners’ sugar, adding more confectioners’ sugar if necessary to reach desired drizzling consistency.
Drizzle glaze over cooled cookies. Allow glaze to set before storing cookies in an airtight container between layers of wax paper, plastic wrap, or foil.

Makes about 2 dozen cookies.

cookie2
 
* — I always start with 1/2 cup of confectioners’ sugar and then add more because the glaze can become too thick too fast. I suggest starting small and adding more to your preference. Go back

ling-harvest

Know what you grow: Gardens, source of all life

Nothing like spring sunshine and rains to get those gardens growing. Whether you live and work on a farm or just put a few potted plants up on the window sill, there’s something about tending earth and watching the (sometimes literal) fruits of your labor grow up out of it that stirs the human soul. It’s just more fulfilling to gather raspberries from your own backyard bush than to scoop up a sterile, plastic box full of them at the supermarket for $5.99. It connects you to nature, fills you with the satisfaction of (once again, literally) reaping what you sow. Of course, at the supermarket, you don’t have to worry about critters getting to the goods first. Still, it’s no wonder that gardening is such a popular pastime and that more and more people are choosing to buy farmland and raise crops for a living.

But what kinds of crops might you grow, if you are so inclined? We live in a global economy, which means that virtually any kind of food that has ever been eaten is available at your nearby grocery store, from lychee fruit to bison burgers (though we won’t typically find many insects for sale, despite their nutritional value and long history as part of the human diet). Where to start? As more than 86 percent of our readers are from the Western Hemisphere, you might consider only growing fruits and vegetables originally native to the Americas. So what gets left out of our garden plot?

 

The Middle East, or the area from Egypt to Mesopotamia (Greek, meso: middle; potamos: rivers; “between two rivers”), as it was called, is known as the “Fertile Crescent,” on account of all the good farmland there. This is, of course, the birthplace of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity, and home to the mythical Garden of Eden (either Hebrew edhen: “pleasure, delight” or Sumerian edin: “place that is well-watered throughout”). In the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament, Eden is the place where the first two humans were created. They lived in want of nothing until they disobeyed God and got kicked out, dooming their species to have to work for their supper (and snakes are bad, for some reason). In Sumerian myth, the place was called Edin, and it was where the Annunaki (“people who came from heaven to earth”), a race of god-lings, lived and eventually learned to do things like bathe and grow food. Oh, and also create mankind.

Middle Eastern vegetables include lettuce, radishes, onions, carrots, and cucumbers. We also get wheat, barley, oats, peas, mustard, almonds, sheep, pigs, cattle, and goats from the area. Quite a prolific region for foodstuffs! From Northern Europe, we get pears, raspberries, radishes, spinach, horses, and rye. From the Mediterranean (“middle earth”) come beets, broccoli, cabbage, kale, olives, and Brussels sprouts (the form we know now probably did originate in Belgium, but an earlier type of the plant came from ancient Rome).

Well, that limits our garden quite a bit. How about Asia? “Asia” comes from Akkadian asu: “to rise,” in reference to the sun coming up from the east. Incidentally, the Chinese call their country Zhongguo, which means “central land.” So, you know, everybody thinks they’re from the epicenter of the planet. “Japan” comes from Marco Polo’s “Chipangu,” which is from a Chinese transliteration of the Japanese Nippon (ni means “sun”; pon means “source”).

As to origin myths, one of the more popular ones in China holds that the land is made up of the dead body of the first man, Pangu (“ancient plate”?). While alive, he separated the Earth and sky (Yin and Yang), and when he died, his body filled the gap with rivers, mountains, and plants. What parts of him made our veggies, you ask? Why, his body hair, of course! Also of note: his sweat and snot made up the rain.

With that appetizing information at hand, let’s see what foods originated in Asia and the remaining continents. We get eggplant, rice (of course), coconut, kiwi, peaches, pretty much all the citrus fruits (Florida oranges and Georgia peaches, you say? Got ’em here first!), rhubarb, as well as chicken, lychee, mangoes, and black pepper. The list of African produce is slimmer, featuring yams and watermelon. From Australia, on the other hand, we get an array of old standbys, like conkerberries, doubah, emu apples or muntries, and the zig zag vine.

So what do we have left from the Americas that we can plant in our garden? Well, there’s corn. Originally called “maize,” the Europeans took to calling it “Indian corn,” the word “corn” deriving from an Old Saxon word for grain, but “Indian” was dropped later on. Maize was so important in the Americas that the Mayans believed they were made from it by the gods.

Well, first, the gods tried to make people out of mud. But those people didn’t do anything! They were just mud! Then, they made people out of trees — or wood, anyway. These people moved around and stuff, but they didn’t worship the gods. They lacked faith, and the gods found it disturbing. So the gods decided to animate all the wood peoples’ household appliances, which turned on them and attacked (just like the second Transformers movie), kicking them out of house and home. The wood people lived up in the trees from then on and became monkeys. Finally, the gods used maize to make people, and everything was great.

Other than corn, which constitutes, like, 90 percent of all processed food in the United States (via corn syrup, corn starch, corn-fed beef, etc.), there are quite a few options for our garden. From the Americas, we get beans, peanuts, potatoes, and sweet potatoes. (Haitian Creole batata is the word for “sweet potato”; originally, white potatoes were called “bastard potatoes” by the Europeans because they were cheap and of minor importance compared to their sweet cousins until Ireland built its economy around them.) More native American foods include tomatoes, chili peppers, avocados, cranberries, blueberries, strawberries, pineapples, and squashes. We also get quinoa, sunflowers, turkey, bison, walnuts, pecans, chocolate, vanilla, and maple syrup.

 

Well, looking at the origins of all these foods, I can safely say I’m glad all this stuff is available at the grocery store. I suppose I could live with food just from the Americas (chocolate and vanilla? Score!), but goodness knows our garden out back is all the better for having a few raspberries to pick each year.

ICBbrownies

Recipe: “Healthy” Irish car bomb brownies

The great Irish holiday has come and passed, and you may find yourself with some leftover Guinness, Jameson, and Baileys. That’s all right. I’ve got a healthy Irish car bomb brownie recipe for you to try. OK, “healthy” may be the wrong word for these little bits of heavenly Irish goodness. But they are a bit better for you, considering the alternatives.

I’m big on celebrating St. Paddy’s Day (and I’m very much an Irish girl), so I couldn’t resist mixing some of my favorite foods, drinks, and traditions. Of course, that means combining an Irish car bomb shot with chocolate.

I had my first Irish car bomb on St. Patrick’s Day when I was in college and, for a while, my friends and I would have chugging contests with a car bomb every time we went out. (After all, we were in college, and if you can make drinking into a game, of course you’re going to do it.)

But after a while, chugging isn’t really as appealing as it used to be. However, I still liked the taste of car bombs, and I wanted to be able to maintain my tradition of having one to celebrate the luck of the Irish. So when I saw the opportunity to make a dessert with all those ingredients, I jumped at the chance.

The best thing about these brownies is that not only are they delicious, but the taste of alcohol in them isn’t overwhelming; the Guinness actually makes the chocolate from the brownie mix taste even better. I’m normally a fan of doing my recipes from scratch, but occasionally I throw a boxed mix in just to make it easier on myself.

So here is what you’re going to need to make enough of these to share with friends, since I don’t advise eating the entire pan yourself (although I have to say, I did consider it):

Ingredients
For the brownies
1 box Ghirardelli Triple Fudge Brownie mix
1/2 cup Guinness Extra Stout beer
1/4 cup plain fat-free Greek yogurt
1 tablespoon Jameson Irish Whiskey

For the Irish cream drizzle
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1/2 tablespoon Baileys Irish Cream
1 tablespoon water* (read note below)

Now that you have all your ingredients, it’s time for the fun part.

Directions
Brownies
Preheat your oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit and lightly spray the inside of an 8-by-8-inch baking dish with non-stick cooking spray. Set the pan aside. (I’m sure the recipe will work with a 9-by-9-inch dish as well; the baking time will vary.)

In a large bowl, combine the brownie mix, beer, Greek yogurt, and whiskey until well-blended.

Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and bake for 40 to 49 minutes** or until cooked through (dependent, in part, on the size of the baking dish).

When the timer rings, buzzes, quacks, or otherwise notifies you that your brownies are done, check them with a toothpick in the center and around the edges of the pan. If it comes out clean, and if the top springs back a bit when you press on it with the palm of your hand, you’re good to go. If not, put them back in the oven for a few minutes (usually about 2 to 5) and keep an eye on them.

When the brownies are done, remove them from the oven and allow to cool.

The glaze
While the brownies are cooling, mix together the ingredients for the glaze.

Once the brownies are cool (or, at least, cooler), drizzle the glaze over the top and, voil…! Your Irish car bomb brownies are ready to enjoy!

* – I used 1 tablespoon of water and the glaze came out thinner, which I like because it isn’t too sugary. However, if you like a thicker glaze, start with 1/2 tablespoon and, if the glaze seems too thick, add water by the 1/4 tablespoon until you reach the desired consistency.

** – These took longer than 49 minutes for me, so don’t be alarmed if you’re getting over the time limit and they don’t seem done. Just keep your eye on them and test the center with a toothpick.

I hope you enjoy these as much as I did. Make sure you check out my other recipes, and please feel free to leave feedback and share any ideas you have with me for new recipes to try.