Sitting at the Interlaken Hotel bar in the Berkshire’s foothills, the couple next to me buys a drink. A middle-aged couple (their words not mine) having a weekend away from kids - the first in a long time. He announces his age is forty-two and he thinks he is too old to be out. He asks the bartender, for a recommendation for other local bars where they can head out to and find some fun. The bartender tells him of a place close by, but he’s feeling like he will look like all of the kids’ dad and so lingers as an excuse to not venture forth. Instead he suggests we all have an Irish Car Bomb – the drink of his youth, when he was cool with his buds and knew where he fit in. Rather than venturing off of his barstool he buys a round for all takers at the bar … the Guinness arrives with a floater of Jameson and a sidecar of Bailey’s Irish Cream. We all watch as he picks up the shot and drops it into the foamy Guinness - his wife encourages him to chug-a-lug as he once did in the glory of his youth. The bartender sets everyone up - Irish Car Bombs all around! It kind of tastes like malted milk – quite yummy. Thanks for the nightcap Will! Click here to sign up for Christine's Food for Friends e-newsletter!