From a Foggy Runway to Your Glass: The Remarkable Story of Irish Coffee
There are drinks, and then there are stories. Irish coffee belongs firmly in the second category. Order one at a proper Dublin bar and you're not just getting a warming pick-me-up — you're participating in a ritual that stretches back over eighty years, connecting you to weary transatlantic travellers, a quick-thinking chef, and the particular genius of Irish hospitality. Pull up a stool, because this one's worth knowing.
A Stormy Night at Foynes
The year was 1943. Foynes, a small village on the banks of the Shannon Estuary in County Limerick, was one of the busiest airports in the world — not for planes as we know them, but for flying boats, those magnificent lumbering aircraft that touched down on water rather than tarmac. It was the era before pressurised cabins made long-haul flying comfortable, and passengers arriving from North America after a brutal crossing were, to put it diplomatically, in need of a lift.
On one particularly miserable winter night, a flight turned back mid-Atlantic due to savage weather. The passengers were deposited back at Foynes cold, exhausted, and thoroughly fed up. It fell to Joe Sheridan, the head chef at the terminal's restaurant, to do something about morale. His solution was elegant in its simplicity: he brewed strong, hot coffee, added a generous measure of Irish whiskey, and floated a layer of lightly whipped cream over the top. When one grateful American passenger asked whether the coffee was Brazilian, Sheridan reportedly replied, "No, that's Irish coffee."
And just like that, a legend was born.
How It Crossed the Atlantic
The drink might have stayed a local secret were it not for a San Francisco travel writer named Stanton Delaplane. Passing through Shannon Airport in the early 1950s — Foynes had by then been replaced by a proper land-based airport — Delaplane tasted the drink and was so taken with it that he brought the recipe back to the Buena Vista Café in San Francisco. After a fair bit of experimentation to get the cream to float just right, the Buena Vista began serving it in 1952 and hasn't stopped since.
From San Francisco, Irish coffee radiated outward across the globe, popping up on cocktail menus from Tokyo to Toronto. Yet for all its worldwide fame, the spiritual home of a properly made Irish coffee remains Ireland — and more specifically, the buzzing, cobblestoned heart of Dublin's Temple Bar.
The Chemistry of a Perfect Pour
Here's where things get interesting, because a truly excellent Irish coffee is not as straightforward as it looks. Get any one element wrong and the whole thing falls apart. The magic lies in the balance of four components, each playing a distinct role.
The coffee needs to be strong and freshly brewed — not instant, never instant. A good filter or cafetière coffee works beautifully. Espresso can overpower the whiskey, so resist the temptation.
The whiskey should be an Irish variety, ideally something smooth and triple-distilled. Jameson is the classic choice for good reason; its lighter, approachable character complements rather than fights the coffee. Single pot still whiskeys from Redbreast or Green Spot add complexity if you're after something more distinctive.
The sugar — brown sugar, specifically — isn't just sweetness. It acts as an emulsifier, helping the cream layer to sit properly and ensuring the drink doesn't taste bitter. Don't skip it.
The cream is where most home attempts come unstuck. It should be lightly whipped to just short of stiff peaks — pourable but with enough body to float on the surface. The idea is that you drink the hot coffee through the cold cream, experiencing both temperatures and textures simultaneously. That contrast is the whole point.
The glass matters too. A stemmed, heat-resistant glass of around 240ml is ideal — it keeps the drink warm, shows off the layers, and feels properly ceremonial in your hand.
Make It at Home: A Step-by-Step Guide
Fancy having a go yourself? Here's how to do it justice in your own kitchen.
You'll need:
- 150ml freshly brewed strong coffee
- 40ml Irish whiskey (Jameson or similar)
- 1–2 teaspoons brown sugar
- 50ml double cream, lightly whipped
Method:
- Warm your glass first by filling it with boiling water, waiting thirty seconds, then emptying it. A cold glass will shock the drink.
- Add the brown sugar to the warm glass, then pour in the hot coffee. Stir until the sugar has completely dissolved — this step is non-negotiable.
- Add the whiskey and give it a gentle stir.
- Lightly whip your double cream until it just begins to thicken but remains pourable. Over-whipped cream will sit in a clump rather than a smooth layer.
- Pour the cream slowly over the back of a spoon held just above the surface of the coffee. This slows the pour and helps the cream float.
- Serve immediately, without stirring, and resist the urge to use a straw.
Why Temple Bar Does It Best
All well and good at home, but there's something irreplaceable about drinking an Irish coffee in Dublin itself. Temple Bar's bars have been refining this ritual for decades, and the best of them treat it with genuine reverence — proper glassware, quality whiskey, cream poured with care. It's not just a drink; it's a welcome.
When you're wandering the cobbled lanes between the River Liffey and Dame Street, ducking in from the inevitable drizzle, there's no better way to warm up and feel immediately at home than wrapping your hands around one of these. The history is in every sip — eighty years of Irish hospitality distilled into a single, beautiful glass.
Come in. We'll put the kettle on.