But seriously. My milkshake? It brings the boys and the girls to the yard. And they are sprinting. For real.
In fact, my milkshake brings anyone over 21 to the yard. Or over 12, if you grew up in The Most Irish Town in America, like I did.
Yesterday I was attempting a momentary sanity re-boot by getting in touch with the outside world for a few minutes browsing articles on Huffington Post online. Carlitos was ‘reading’ a book (you’d be amazed how quickly you can blow through a book when you don’t know how to read the words) and Xavi was ‘reorganizing’ the clothing in his dresser. (How old do they have to be before I stop putting everything they do in quotation marks because they actually aren’t doing that at all?)
Obviously, because I only had a few precious moments to inform myself about the most important events of the day, I went straight to the Food section of the Huffington Post. Gosh, I wonder why I still have 45 pounds of baby weight to lose 9 months later.
(Don’t worry, I also understand that I should have been browsing something a little more sturdy like The New York Times or The Boston Globe, or even The Washington Post. However, I thoroughly enjoy knowing my news is coming at me sideways slanted. It’s juicier that way.)
Anyway, I saw The Most Amazing Article EVER. I immediately forwarded it to my husband (I’m pretty sure he loves all of the “Very Important! Read Immediately!” emails I send him throughout the day.) and said, succinctly, “Tonight!”
Poor guy. I can only imagine what he was hoping that email was about. Sad face.
I can tell you that this article did have me salivating. And you know what they say: Happy Wife, Happy Life! (Thanks for bringing us that gem, Teresa.)
So, this article. Are you ready?
Yeah, no words.
What a concept! What a combo! This is better than bacon in chocolate bars, chocolate rubbed lamb chops, craisins dipped in chocolate, Mexican hot chocolate, anything peanut-y and chocolate…
Dammit. Me and my predictable patterns.
My husband knew what to do. God, I love that man. He picked up two pints of ice-cream at our corner bodega on his way home. Vanilla (him) and chocolate (me) (Obviously. See above.)
The kids were put to bed immediately following dinner. Mommy’s got very important things to do, guys. Sorry. (I even gave them the ‘Carlitos shoulder shrug,’ that reads: ‘Eh, I’m just an angsty 13-year-old that doesn’t really care, but who is saying ‘sorry’ just to be kind of obnoxious.’ Yes, I know he is only 3 and yes, I know how much trouble I am in.)
Unfortunately, the article didn’t really give any recipes, so I went to work concocting my own version of the amazingness that is an Alcoholic Milkshake. Let me tell you, this was no small feat. I had to attempt several versions. Meaning, I really took one for the team. And meaning when I put too much vodka in that last attempt I was gifted with an immediate, pounding headache. Also, meaning I ended up consuming an entire carton of ice-cream. You’re welcome.
And now, because along with being dorky and lazy, I am also very, very generous, I will share my recipe with YOU. You lucky son of a gun. Just be nice and if you want to share this recipe with others, please offer them a link to my blog. i.e. No Stealing. Unless you want me to sic Carlitos on you. I am pretty sure you don’t want to end up with the ol’ calculator down the shirt punishment. Worse than the belt. Or prison.
Back to the important stuff. Here is how you create a little sip of Heaven:
Or as I like to call it, the DAMN! (Delicious Alcoholic Milkshake NOW!)
– To a blender, add about half a pint of ice-cream (vanilla, chocolate or coffee…or get creative. I promise I won’t give The Alcoholic Milkshake Police your address.)
– One or Two ounces of Vodka
– Two ounces of the coffee flavored liquor of your choice (We used Kahlua, but use whatever you have on hand. Fahlua. Kalooa. Whatever. I’m not judging.)
– One ounce of Creme de Cacao (This can be eliminated if you don’t happen to have it on hand. I like Holiday Cocktails, so we still had some lurking in our bar.)
– A splash of milk
– Now, BLEND.
Look! The Magic Bullet isn’t just for making baby food! And if I don’t wash the blade well enough Xavi is going to be tons o’ fun tomorrow after breakfast! Win-win!
– Pour into glasses (we just screwed on our little Magic Bullet covers, allowing for his to be vanilla and hers to be chocolate) and top with something fun. Cocao powder. Coconut. Chocolate syrup. Whipped cream. Confetti. Something.
– Get ready for a GOOD TIME.
Note: This milkshake is a little thinner than I usually like mine to be, due to the copious amounts of liquid happiness in the recipe. If you want yours thicker, just add less alcohol. But, uh, don’t expect me to ever be free to hang out with you on a Saturday night. Because you are obviously NO FUN. I’m kidding. Your enjoyment of milkshakes totally makes you *a little* fun, just not fun enough to hang out with me.
Secondary note: I may or may not have written this blog post after doing all of this recipe testing. But I did it for YOU – so don’t judge, okay?