Skip to main content

Irish Coffee

Wayfinder

The Irish Coffee was invented at the Foynes flying-boat terminal on the Shannon estuary in 1943, when chef Joe Sheridan was asked to warm a planeload of passengers turned back by Atlantic weather. He put Irish whiskey in their coffee, and when an American asked whether it was Brazilian coffee, Sheridan answered that it was Irish coffee. The terminal became Shannon Airport, the drink became the house welcome, and a genuine classic was born in a departure lounge. Its second act belongs to San Francisco. Travel writer Stanton Delaplane drank it at Shannon and spent a night in 1952 helping the Buena Vista Cafe reverse-engineer it, a process that famously stalled on the cream refusing to float. The cafe has poured tens of millions since. What separates a real Irish Coffee from hot whiskey with dairy is architecture: hot sweetened coffee and spirit below, cold thick cream above, and the drink taken through the cream so every sip arrives twice, warm then cool, bitter then rich.

HotClassicAfter-DinnerCaffeinated

Glassware: Irish Coffee Mug

Garnish: Cream is the garnish: nothing on top ever

Ingredients

Serves
Irish Whiskey

50ml

The foundation, and a smooth, honest blend is the correct call: the drink was invented on the airport pour, and hot sweetened coffee erases the subtleties premium bottles charge for.

Hot Filter Coffee

120ml

The length and warmth of the drink: good filter coffee, hot and fresh, strong enough to argue with the whiskey. Espresso makes a different, shorter drink.

Demerara Sugar

1 tsp

Structural, not optional: sugar densifies the coffee layer, and that density is what holds the cream afloat. Skip it and the float fails.

Cream

50ml

The cool ceiling the drink is built around: fresh cream whipped only to pouring-custard weight, floated over a warm spoon. Aerosol cream collapses; fully whipped cream sits like dessert.

Instructions

1

Warm the glass with hot water, then discard the water.

2

Add the sugar and the hot coffee, and stir until fully dissolved.

3

Add the whiskey and stir once.

4

Whip the cream only until it thickens to the texture of cold pouring custard: it should still just pour.

5

Float the cream over the back of a warm spoon held at the coffee’s surface, filling the last centimetre of the glass.

6

Serve immediately, without a spoon: the drink is taken through the cream.

Source: the IBA (Official IBA specification; method ours). Last checked 13 August 2026.

Expert Tip

The sugar is structural, not optional. Two teaspoons of demerara dissolved into the coffee is what makes that layer dense enough to hold cream on top of it. Skip the sugar and the float fails however well the cream is whipped, which is the single most common way this drink goes wrong. Whip the cream only to pouring-custard weight. It should still just pour off a spoon. Aerosol cream is a different substance and collapses straight through, and fully whipped cream sits on top like a dessert and stops the drink working as a drink. Pour it over the back of a warm spoon held at the surface. A cold spoon thickens the cream on contact and a fast pour punches through, and either way the layer is lost before it forms.

Flavour Profile

CoffeeWhiskeyCreamWarm

The Origin

Foynes was the last stop in Europe for the flying boats of the 1940s, and its terminal restaurant fed passengers who had crossed the Atlantic or failed to. On a foul night in 1943 a Pan Am flight turned back and Joe Sheridan sent out coffee with Irish whiskey in it; his answer to the question of what it was named the drink. When the flying boats gave way to Shannon Airport the recipe moved with the staff, greeting a generation of transatlantic arrivals.

Stanton Delaplane carried the memory to the Buena Vista Cafe in San Francisco in 1952, and the long night of failed floats that followed is part of the drink’s folklore. The cafe cracked it, put the drink on permanent service, and has poured it in industrial quantities ever since without ever automating away the spoon.

The Cream

Everything hangs on the cream: fresh, cold, and whipped only until it thickens to pouring-custard weight. Aerosol cream is a different substance and collapses into the coffee; fully whipped cream sits like a dessert and defeats the point. Float it over the back of a warm spoon onto sweetened coffee and it forms the cool ceiling the drink is built around.

Whiskey and Coffee

A smooth, approachable Irish whiskey is correct here: the drink was invented with the airport pour, not a collector’s bottle, and coffee flattens the subtleties that make premium whiskeys premium. The coffee should be good filter coffee, hot and fresh, strong enough to argue with the whiskey but not espresso: the volume of the drink is part of its architecture.

How to Serve It

In a handled, stemmed glass warmed first, filled to a centimetre below the rim before the cream goes on, and served without a spoon or a straw: the drink is drunk through the cream layer, hot and cold together, and stirring it is the one unforgivable move. It is the correct end to a winter dinner and the correct beginning to very little.

The Buena Vista Night

Stanton Delaplane's account of the 1952 experiment is one of the better cocktail origin stories, because the problem was genuine rather than romantic: the cream would not float.

What they eventually worked out is the same thing every home attempt still gets wrong. The coffee has to be sweetened, because sugar makes it denser. The cream has to be aged a day or two and whipped only lightly, because it has to be thicker than coffee and still pourable. And it has to go over the back of a spoon rather than straight in.

The Buena Vista has poured it continuously since, sometimes more than two thousand in a day, and has never automated the spoon. The glasses go down the bar in rows and the cream is floated by hand on every one.

Why Not Espresso

An espresso-based version is a pleasant drink and it is not an Irish Coffee, for reasons of volume rather than snobbery.

The classic is built on 120ml of hot filter coffee, and that volume is doing three things at once: it sets the drink's length, it holds enough heat to keep the whole glass warm against a cold cream layer, and it dilutes the whiskey to the point where 45ml reads as warming rather than as strong. Thirty millilitres of espresso changes all three.

Filter coffee, hot and fresh, strong enough to argue with the whiskey. That is the specification, and it matters more than the whiskey does.

The Spirit

Whiskey (Irish)

Whiskey distilled and matured on the island of Ireland, for at least three years in wooden casks. Triple distillation and an absence of peat are strong conventions rather than rules, and the exceptions are worth knowing before treating either as a definition.

Learn more

Frequently Asked Questions

Why will my cream not float?

Three usual causes: the coffee was not sweetened, the cream was whipped too little or too much, or it was poured directly rather than over a spoon. Sweetened coffee is denser, custard-thick cream is lighter, and the spoon breaks the fall.

What whiskey should I use for Irish Coffee?

A smooth, unpretentious Irish blend. This is the drink the airport pour was made for, and hot sweetened coffee erases the finer points that make premium bottles premium. Save the good stuff for a glass beside it, where you will actually be able to taste it.

Can I use espresso instead of filter coffee?

A short, intense drink built on espresso is pleasant, but it is not an Irish Coffee. The classic depends on 120 millilitres of hot filter coffee for its length, its temperature and its balance, and 30ml of espresso changes all three at once.

You Might Also Like

Hot Toddy

The Hot Toddy is drinking’s oldest comfort: spirit, sweetness, lemon and hot water, a formula eighteenth-century Scotland settled on and no century since has improved. The name may descend from Todd’s Well, an Edinburgh spring whose water was said to make the whisky, or from an Indian palm drink that sailors carried the word home from; the drink itself needs no etymology to explain its survival. It endured as medicine as much as pleasure. Generations were prescribed a toddy for colds by grandmothers and occasionally by doctors, and the honest modern verdict is that they were half right: hot liquid, steam, honey and lemon genuinely soothe a raw throat and stuffed head, and the whisky genuinely improves morale, while curing nothing. The toddy’s real prescription is comfort, reliably filled. The build rewards restraint. Water just off the boil rather than at it, honey rather than raw sugar, lemon squeezed and dropped in, the whisky added last so its aromatics survive: a drink this simple has nowhere to hide a heavy hand, and its balance point, warming rather than scalding, sweet rather than syrupy, is the whole craft.

A vintage watercolour illustration of an Espresso Martini served in a martini glass filled with dark coffee-brown liquid beneath a pale crema head, garnished with three coffee beans on the foam, painted in warm sun-faded tones on aged parchment paper with loose ink outlines and visible brush texture.

Espresso Martini

Dick Bradsell created the Espresso Martini in 1983 at the Soho Brasserie in London, reportedly at the request of a young model who asked for something that would "wake me up and then mess me up." The name has stuck despite the drink containing no gin and bearing no relation to a Martini beyond the glass it is served in. Bradsell used what was in front of him: freshly pulled espresso from the machine behind the bar, vodka, and coffee liqueur. The result became one of the most ordered cocktails in the world. The revival it has enjoyed over the last decade is not a surprise. It is a genuinely good drink. Cold, strong, silky, with the kind of foam that holds a garnish for ten minutes and makes every other cocktail look underdressed. The foam is the signature and the technique that produces it is the point of difference between an Espresso Martini and a good Espresso Martini. Use freshly pulled espresso. Not cold brew. Not instant. Not yesterday's coffee. The crema from a fresh shot is what produces the foam. Without it the drink is flat in every sense of the word.

A vintage watercolour illustration of a Hot Buttered Rum served in a footed glass mug with a handle, filled with steaming caramel-brown liquid topped with melting cream and grated spice, a cinnamon stick standing in the glass, painted in warm sun-faded tones on aged parchment paper with loose ink outlines and visible brush texture.

Hot Buttered Rum

Hot Buttered Rum is one of the oldest documented American drinks, appearing in colonial records from the seventeenth century as a winter drink built around the rum arriving in New England ports from the Caribbean trade. It predates the cocktail as a formal category by more than a century, and it sits alongside the toddy and the flip as evidence that spirit, sweetness and warmth in one vessel is as old as distillation. The batter is what separates a properly made one from a glass of rum with butter melted into it. Softened butter, brown sugar, warm spices and a little vanilla, prepared in advance and stored cold, produce a richness and an integrated spice that adding each element separately cannot reach, and the butter emulsifies into the liquid as the batter dissolves. This is a drink for deep winter and genuine cold. It does not pretend to be refreshing or complex. It is warm, rich, direct and entirely honest about what it is.

Where this one sits

Recipe by Jerry Can Spirits

Enjoyed This Recipe?

Explore our full collection of cocktails and discover your next favorite

Browse All Cocktails