Baileys Rice Pudding (non-alcoholic)

I adore rice pudding, and after I demolished the last batch I made, I was planning on making the same recipe again. Well, okay, maybe with some little tweaks.

But then when I looked in the fridge, I saw that I didn't have quite enough milk. But! I had a bottle of Baileys French Vanilla coffee creamer.

My first try was a supreme fail. Way too sweet. But that didn't stop me. I thought that the Baileys flavor would be perfect in rice pudding, so I fiddled with the recipe until I worked it out.

This is actually a little less sweet than my previous rice pudding, but it has nice flavor from the creamer. While I chose the French vanilla version, I'm sure this would work as well with any flavor you like - as long as you think it would work in a rice pudding.

And since I'm still working out recipes using my Instant Pot, this is a pressure cooker recipe. I'm really loving the Instant Pot ... can you tell?

Baileys Rice Pudding

1/2 cup arborio rice
1 cup Baileys French Vanilla coffee creamer
1 cup milk
1 cup water
1/4 teaspoon salt

Put all ingredients in your Instant Pot. Put the cover on and make sure the knob is set for sealing rather than venting.

Press the porridge button and make sure the timer is set for 20 minutes. When the time is up, let it sit for 30 minutes on the "keep warm" setting, then turn the machine off and vent any remaining steam.

Stir the rice pudding well. It will look a little bit soupy, but the rice will plump up and continue to absorb liquid as it cooks.

Transfer to a storage container and refrigerate.

I received the Instant Pot through 37 Cooks for a post on the group blog. I am not obligated to continue posting about it on my blog. I'm just having fun.

To All the Moms - A Banana Baileys "Milkshake"

Mother's Day has always been a weird one for me. To say that my mom and I didn't get along well is an understatement.

If my mother had been a species of fish, she would have been the type that eats as many of its young as possible, as soon as they are born. It's good for those species in the evolutionary sense, since only the strong survive. The weaker fish, and the unlucky ones, help to nourish mom, I guess.

That comparison isn't much of an exaggeration. My twin, as well as my aborted twin brothers, two years older than I, were not survivors.

Meanwhile, my mother spent a lot of her pregnancy with me trying to deny she was pregnant. At first, I was menopause. The doctor was wrong, she said. She obviously couldn't be pregnant. Or could she?

When it became apparent that I was still hanging on, mom had dreams that my deceased grandmother was trying to hand me to her, but mom didn't want me. In the dreams, she tried to refuse to take me from grandmother, over and over again.

Even though mom tried to refuse to take me from my grandmother's arms, that wasn't enough to stop me from being born. And just like that ... I turned a woman into a mother.

That's not to say that my entire childhood was hell. Mom taught me lots of fun things, like how to play poker for money, how to bet on horses at the race track, and how to pick out the brand of whiskey she liked. I became a regular at the grocery store and drugstore, buying whiskey and cigarettes for mom, long before I was old enough to write my name in cursive.

She taught me many things unintentionally. I learned that fall-down-drunkenness was unattractive and disgusting. I learned that I never wanted to be so dependant on a substance that I would search through filthy ash trays to find a cigarette butt that was long enough to light.

I learned how to block out distractions because of her need to always have noise in the tiny apartment. I learned how to ignore the constant babble of TV and radio when reading or doing homework. I learned how to listen with half my attention while thinking about other things.

Now, I can actually watch television, listen to the dialog, and type completely different words at the same time. The downside to this talent is that sometimes I need the distraction of television when I need to do a lot of writing.

Mom, in her single days.

It could be worse.

I learned that when people tell you things, even if they earnestly believe them, these things are not always true. "They say that ..." is not proof that something is true, and "I don't believe in that!" is not a logical way to refute facts. I learned how to look things up and come to own conclusions.

These days, I spend a lot of time looking things up.

I learned that even if mom trusts someone, that person might not be trustworthy. Some people are pure evil in friendly-neighbor's clothing, and sometimes trusting your gut is best.

I learned that not all bad people go to jail or are even arrested or prosecuted.

Sometimes one has to hope that karma is enough.

I learned that the only person who can keep a secret is the person whose secret it is. Once the first person hears the secret, it is free to spread to neighbors, relatives, and even to the mom of your first-grade crush at a PTA meeting while your first-grade crush hides behind his mom's skirt. Literally.

I learned that liars are not as adept at lying as they think they are, and I learned to spot tells. Sneaky liars seldom get past me. Regular liars are totally transparent.

Speaking of lies, my dad had the good sense to never put me in a position where I would feel stuck between telling the lie my mother told me to tell, or being honest with him. If he knew my mom told me to lie and say we were at the grocery store instead of the bar, he wouldn't ask me.

Mom and Dad. Awwww ... newlyweds.

I learned that telling the truth was the easiest thing to do. Liars have to remember their lies, and which versions they told to which person. If you tell the truth, you only need to remember one thing.

I learned that a lot of people lie when they don't want to answer a question, and I figured out that I didn't have to answer every question asked of me. I didn't have to tell my secrets and let them into the world.

When confronted with questions I didn't want to answer, I grew confident enough to say, "Sorry, but that's private," or "I'm not really comfortable discussing that," or "Now is not a good time to talk about that."

Or, "If my husband didn't tell you, then I'll honor his decision not to reveal those things."

I learned not to rely on other people to make me happy. When, on the evening of my 16th birthday, my mother told me that I was too old for birthdays, I was devastated. I had hoped for a Sweet 16 surprise. Maybe a party. How about a cake after dinner, with candles? As the day wore on, my expectations grew lower. I would have settled for a card. But all I got was the announcement that I was too old for birthdays.

So, I decided that on my birthday from that year forward, I would buy something for myself, or do something for myself that was special. I continued that tradition well into adulthood. Most years, I got cards or presents from others. But I knew I didn't have to count on them to treat me well. I was allowed to do things for myself, because I deserved it.

I learned that I should not give someone money for safekeeping, or loan it to them, if it would bother me that I never saw the money again. Birthday money, spare change collected for carrying the neighbor's groceries, and nickels saved from redeeming soda bottles found on the street was said to be "safely put away" for me in mom's bank account. By now, it should be worth a tidy sum, right?

Because of my mom, I learned how to cook without recipes. When I was an adult and mom refused to give me the recipes I remembered from childhood, I figured them out based on my memory of the flavors. I became confident at creating my own recipes and replicating others that I tasted. I guess you might say that she's at least partly responsible for me becoming a food blogger.

Not quite the same smile after I came along.

I learned about marriage from mom's friends and relatives. Some were married and remarried with frightening regularity. They had ugly divorces in between, and bad relationships with many exes. I knew I didn't want that. Others stayed married even though their husbands were abusive. I knew I didn't want that, either.

I knew, without a doubt, that I didn't want to be like my mother. She was my role model of who not to be.

When mom broke her hip and decided not to do physical therapy or help herself get better, I watched her long decline. I took care of her, and I took care of her dwindling finances. For the first time, I wished that I had siblings to help bear the burden. And then she was gone.

I was sad, mostly for the fact that we never had the sort of relationship other people had with their mothers. She wasn't my friend, my mentor, or my idol. She was the woman who gave birth to me, and who consequently gave me enough care so I could grow up and move out.

This isn't a sad story. I have no regrets. My mom made me strong, inquisitive, skeptical, and independent. She made me a survivor.

But still, when Mother's Day rolls around and my friends talk about how wonderful their mothers are or how sad they are that their mothers are gone ... I feel a bit of loss. Not that she's gone, but that I never had the sort of mother that I would actually miss.

So if you had a mother who was your friend, inspiration, and confidante, be happy that you had her in your life. If your mom is still your best buddy or if she now needs your help and support, enjoy your time with her.

And if your mom was like mine, celebrate that you were one of the strong little fish that grew up to be the person you are today.

Thanks, mom. This one's for you.

Baileys Banana Milkshake
For the record, my mom would have hated this drink. This is all about the flavor. She preferred whiskey and water for maximum kick and minimum fuss.

1 ripe banana
1 generous cup ice cubes
1 1/2 ounces Baileys Irish Cream
2 ounces heavy cream (you could use milk, if you like)
Tiny pinch of salt

Place all the ingredients in a blender (salt is optional, but it enhances the banana flavor), and blend until smooth. In a Vitamix (which is what I used) turn the knob to the frozen/ice cream setting and just let it do its thing.

Serve, slurp, enjoy.

You can make a non-alcoholic version by swapping the Baileys for milk or even water. You could simply eliminate it, but the extra liquid makes blending easier.

Baileys Caramel Swirl and Poke Cake with Baileys Whipped Cream

I'm a huge fan of Baileys Irish Cream Liqueur. Not just for sipping, although that's a very nice use of it. But I've also used it for recipes. So when the folks at Baileys asked me if I wanted to use some of their salted caramel flavored Baileys in a baking recipe, I knew I had to do it.

I had a couple different ideas, but I kept thinking about a caramel I made for ice cream that I used for a guest post on Cravings of a Lunatic. I decided to make a similar caramel, but make it more sauce, and then incorporate it into a cake.

Or course, caramel sauce wasn't enough Baileys for me. There's also Baileys in the cake batter, and in the whipped cream topping.

The caramel that's "poked" into the cake stays soft and squishy, while any excess caramel on top of the cake turns into a thin, crisp, flaky layer. As for that whipped cream, it's an amazing topping for the cake ... but if you happen to have extra, it adds a lovely note on top of hot chocolate. Particularly if you spike that hot chocolate for a little bit of Baileys.

Baileys Caramel Swirl and Poke Cake
with Baileys Whipped Cream

For the caramel sauce:
1/2 cup Baileys Salted Caramel Irish Cream
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon butter
Pinch of salt

For the cake:
1 3/4 cups (7 7/8 ounces) all purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup Baileys Salted Caramel Irish Cream
1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1/2 to 2/3 cups caramel sauce

For the whipped cream:
2 tablespoons Baileys Salted Caramel Irish Cream
7/8 cup heavy whipping cream

To get started:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and spray a 9-inch round cake pan with baking spray.

To make the caramel sauce:

Combine the 1/2 cup Baileys, 1/2 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon butter, and pinch salt in a saucepan. Heat to a boil, then lower to a simmer.

Cook until the mixture thickens. It should be thick enough so that when it's at room temperature it will be thick and, but not chewy. It also shouldn't be super-runny. You can test it by putting a small amount on a spoon and putting it in the refrigerator to chill.

You should end up with somewhere between 1/2 cup and 2/3 cup of syrup. Pour 1/4 cup of syrup into a glass measuring cup and refrigerate while you work on the cake. Leave the remainder of the syrup in the pot; you'll be reheating it later.

To make the cake:

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

Combine the Bailey's and the yogurt in small bowl or measuring cup. Set aside.

In the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or in a large bowl with a hand mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating until they are thoroughly incorporated.

Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in 3 additions, alternating with 2 additions of the yogurt mixture, beating well after each addition and scraping down the bowl when needed. This is a fairly thick batter, so don't be concerned that it's not as loose as many cakes you've probably made.

Take 1/2 cup of the batter out of the bowl and add it to the chilled caramel sauce you set aside in the refrigerator. Stir to combine.

Transfer the rest of the batter to your prepared pan. Dollop the batter mixed with caramel on top of the plain cake batter, and swirl with a knife.

You could also add half of the plain batter to the pan, top with the caramel, then add the rest of the plain batter. Swirl or not, as desired.

Level the top of the batter and bake at 350 degrees until the cake springs back when touched, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 40 minutes.

Remove the cake from the oven and place on a cooling rack. Heat the remaining caramel sauce until it's a pouring consistency.

Holey Baileys Cake!

Use the handle of a wooden spoon to poke holes into the warm cake, then pour the warmed syrup into the holes. You don't need to be neat about it - it's fine to spill over the top of the cake.

When you've used all the syrup, use a spoon or soft spatula to spread the syrup remaining on top of the cake into a thin layer and encourage it to fill any holes that might not be completely full.

Let the cake cool completely, then turn out onto the rack then immediately flip over onto a plate or cake stand, so the side with the holes is on top - the caramel is soft, so if you leave the cake upside-down too long, the caramel will start oozing out.

To finish the cake, you have several options. Because of the holes from poking, you probably want to do more than just sprinkle it with powdered sugar. You could, of course, frost it. You could also cover it with a poured or whipped ganache.

But I thought the perfect partner for this slightly dense cake was a fluffy Baileys-flavored whipped cream. If you know you're going to serve the whole cake for dessert, you can top the entire cake with the whipped cream, but I actually like the idea of topping each individual slice with a pretty little dollop of cream. Or a big dollop.

To make the whipped cream:
The best way to measure this is to use a 1 cup measure, add the 2 tablespoons of Baileys, and then add the cream to measure 1 cup.

The easy way to make the cream is to combine the heavy cream and Baileys and place in a nitrous cream whipper. Charge and dispense according to manufacturer's instruction.

The other way is to start by whipping the cream until it begins getting thick, then add the Baileys and continue whipping until it is as thick as you like.

Because of the Baileys in the whipped cream, it doesn't hold its shape for as long as a plain whipped cream, so it's best to make it right before serving and decorate the cake or slices at the last minute. Of course, if you're using a whipper, you can just leave the cream in the whipper and dispense as you serve.

I received Baileys for my use at no cost to me.

Minty Irish Cream Liqueur

As I was driving to the grocery store today, I was thinking about the Shamrock Shake. And I was wondering why a mint-flavored shake was Irish. Green is associate with Ireland, so it makes sense that the shake is green.

But why mint? Why not ... uh ... lime?

Avocado?

Kale?

Yeah, I guess that explains why it's mint flavored.

I recently made a Baileys-like Irish Cream liqueur, but it wasn't green. Or minty.

I decided to fix that. Well, I decided to make something minty, but not necessarily green. I did put it in a green bottle, though.

I eliminated the coffee and made a few other tweaks, and I think it's pretty darned successful. Like the other drink, this is pretty much a drinkable dessert or an evening treat.

Minty Irish Cream Liqueur

1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1 12-ounce can evaporated milk
1 cup Irish whiskey
1/2 cup peppermint schnapps
1/4 cup chocolate syrup

Combine all ingredients in a bowl or a large measuring cup and mix well. Transfer to a suitable bottle for storage. Keep refrigerated.

Baileys and Chai! Oh My!

I've been a fan of Baileys Irish Cream for a long time. Although I've had it mixed with coffee as an after-dinner drink, and I've mixed it into hot chocolate as an evening treat, it never dawned on my to create a warm cocktail with Baileys.

But once the idea hit, I had to give it a try.

I didn't want to just warm the Baileys though - I wanted more depth of flavor. I wanted something that would pair well with the Baileys, but not overpower it.

I chose chai. I used an instant chai mix (add hot water and stir), but you could certainly brew your own.

Oh, and I used the salted caramel Baileys. The regular Baileys would be just fine, as well. Your choice

This would be nice for a cozy brunch or for a quiet evening at home. A box of chocolate covered caramel candies on the side wouldn't be a bad idea, either.

You know, for that holiday where people tend to give boxes of chocolates?

Baileys and Chai (oh my!)

6 ounces prepared chai tea (hot)

1 ounce Baileys Salted Caramel Irish Cream 

1/2 ounce Smirnoff Caramel-Kissed Vodka

Prepare the chai tea in the mug of your choice. Add the Baileys and vodka. Stir and serve.

This would be good with a dollop of whipped cream, if you like. It would also be good cold. But hey, it was snowing and a hot drink was absolutely the right idea.

Anti-Disclaimer. See that bottle of Baileys? I bought it. And the Smirnoff has been hanging around here for quite a while, so I'm not sure which door it entered by. But it's mine, now.

Baileys Ice Cream - a guest post at Cravings of a Lunatic #BoozyDesserts

Ah, Baileys Irish Cream ... how I love you. It's such a lovely dessert cocktail, all on its own. Chill and serve.

But ... I can't leave a good thing alone, so I churned some Baileys into a batch of ice cream.

And then I used MORE Baileys to make a caramel sauce.

Yes, I'm wild and crazy.

And then, because I have no decency, I sent the whole shebang over to Kim at Cravings of a Lunatic to use as a guest post.

Well, okay, I didn't email her the actual ice cream. Just words and photos.

So, gawk at this photo of the caramel sauce. Ooooh, thick caramel sauce, ready for drizzling. Or for eating right off the spoon. We don't want to talk about how many times I did that.

And then take a closer look at this ice cream layered with caramel. Pretty ice cream, flavored with Baileys, along with a deeper-flavored caramel with Baileys. It's a match made in ... uh ... a glass.

And then when you're done gawking, go visit Kim for the recipe. Because I know you want to make it!