Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes

I‘ve never been much of a “novelty” drinker; that is, I will choose a glass of whiskey with a cube of ice over some mixologist’s overwrought ginger-infused absinthe concoction any day. Because I went to college, though, where $40,000 in student loans taught me mostly how to open a beer bottle with a cigarette lighter, I make an exception for the “Irish Car Bomb.” It’s a staple among crowds of rookie drinkers: Drop a shot glass filled with equal parts Irish whiskey and Baileys Irish Cream into a pint glass filled 3/4 of the way with Guinness draught beer. When the liquor hits the beer, all hell breaks loose, the drink immediately begins to overflow, curdle and explode, and you tilt the whole mess back in a few big gulps, the foamy mixture of beer and booze sliding easily (and quickly!) down your throat and directly onto your liver.

My last experience with Irish Car Bombs was three years ago at a restaurant called “The Whale’s Tail” in Oxnard, California. I was having a nice, casual lunch with my mother and sister at a seaside seafood restaurant; the kind of place with Bloody Mary-soaked wall-to-wall carpeting and tipsy septuagenarians tilting gin-and-tonics at noon on a Wednesday. What should have been a breezy family lunch changed course rapidly when my sister, herself no stranger to a barstool, causally mentioned that she had never tried an Irish Car Bomb. Ever the loving little brother, and with my mother looking on, I insisted she try one immediately. We received our drinks, and with a count of three, dropped our shot glasses into our beers, where they immediately overflowed their glasses, sending my sister into a fit of giggles so severe, that she was unable to finish her drink. The very patient waitress and I explained that she shouldn’t worry, and that she should just try again with another one. Fresh drinks, 1-2-3, clink, foam, giggle fit, curdled beer, sighing waitress. One more try. Fresh drinks, 1-2-3, clink, foam, giggle fit, curdled beer, sighing waitress. On her fourth attempt, she was finally able to compose herself, and managed to drink her Irish Car Bomb down, without spilling a drop. Meanwhile, in my capacity as coach, I had finished the four I had been served in about twenty minutes, which made walking across the room surprisingly difficult, and has kept me from having another since.

All that has changed, now. Jillian and I have a new daughter, and my sister is married and pregnant with a son of her own. This year, there won’t be any Irish Car Bombs, any public intoxication, or any fistfights with someone in a “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” t-shirt. This St. Patrick’s Day, the closest we will come to that kind of debauchery is consuming our whiskey, Bailey’s, and Guinness in cupcake form.

All of the elements of this cupcake work beautifully together. The Guinness adds a subtle richness to the chocolate cake, which develops just the slightest crispy crackle on its exterior. The cupcakes are filled with a Jameson-spiked dark chocolate ganache, and the whole shebiggle is topped with a surprisingly light, definitely boozy Bailey’s-soaked buttercream frosting. That combination of sugar, fat, and booze is enough to quicken your pulse and make the world seem like its spinning off its axis with just one bite. In other words, they’re perfect for your St. Patrick’s Day celebration.

Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes
Makes 12 cupcakes; Adapted from a recipe by Brown Eyed Baker

Ingredients:

For the cupcakes:

• 1/2 cup Guinness stout
• 1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 6 tablespoons Dutch-process cocoa powder
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 + 1/8 teaspoons salt
• 1 egg
• 1/3 cup sour cream

For the Jameson dark chocolate ganache filling:

• 4 ounces bittersweet chocolate
• 1/3 cup heavy cream
• 1 tablespoon butter, at room temperature
• 1 1/2 teaspoons Jameson Irish whiskey

For the Baileys buttercream frosting:

• 2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 2 1/2 cups powdered sugar
• 3 tablespoons Baileys Irish Cream

Method:

For the cupcakes:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, and line a cupcake or muffin pan with 12 cupcake liners. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, bring Guinness and butter to a simmer. Add the cocoa powder and whisk until smooth. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly.

In a large bowl, stir flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt to combine. In a standing mixer, beat the egg and sour cream until combined. Slowly add the Guinness and chocolate mixture, and stir until combined. Add flour mixture, and continue stirring until completely combined.

Fill each cupcake liner to 2/3 full, and bake until a toothpick inserted into the center of a cupcake comes out completely clean, about 17-20 minutes. Remove cupcakes from pan, and allow to cool completely on rack.

For the Jameson dark chocolate ganache filling:

Finely chop the chocolate, and place in heat-safe bowl. In a small saucepan, heat cream until simmering, and pour over the chocolate. Allow to sit for 1-2 minutes, and then stir using a rubber spatula until smooth. Add butter and whiskey, and continue stirring until combined. Let cool while you prepare the buttercream.

For the Baileys buttercream frosting:

Using the whisk attachment in your standing mixer, whip butter on high speed for five minutes. Reduce speed to low (unless you want to cover your kitchen and, ahem, camera, in a fine mist of powdered sugar), and gradually add powdered sugar until incorporated. Add the Baileys, and increase speed to whip for another 2-3 minutes.

To assemble cupcakes:

Using a paring knife, carefully cut a cone-shaped hole about 2/3 of the way down into the cooled cupcakes, eating the removed cupcake centers as you work. Transfer the ganache to a piping bag with a wide tip, and fill the cupcakes with the ganache.

Fill another pastry bag with the buttercream, and pipe onto the tops of cupcakes. Finish with sprinkles, if desired.

Tagged as: buttercream, cupcake, ganache, irish car bomb, whiskey

About the Author: Malcolm Bedell

My first memories of cooking start in Maine at six years old, when I wore a yellow rainslicker to avoid getting spattered by the bacon I was frying in a skillet. My interest in both Mexican cooking and recreating classic New England dishes from scratch developed while living in Mexico, on a steady diet of pork and habanero peppers. You can see more of my writing and photography online on Serious Eats, the Huffington Post, BlogHer, and Foodista, as well as in print for Downeast, Indulge, and Cigar Snob magazines.