I made coconut shortbread.

They look like this:

We don’t own a cookie cutter, so I hand-crafted all fifty states instead.

I’m too lazy to write a full post about it.  Just like that time I was too lazy to study for the SATs and then got a 2400.

Holla at me, mothers.


Bacon and Cheddar Pull-Apart… Biscuits??!?!?!?!??!

I think the only thing that my parents would object to more than me marrying a white guy is me marrying a Muslim.*

NO!  Not because they’re intolerant in addition to being racist!  My dad is just obsessed with pork.  We eat it all the time.  Yesterday, my parents made barbeque pork spareribs.  And there were still some leftovers of pork sparerib pieces steamed with butternut squash.  And we also had some 叉燒

Pork Day is my favorite holiday.


So due to pork overload, I decided to hold off of on making these until today.

I don’t think I’ve made the same recipe more than once in a year (or possibly even ever) since I discovered the Food Blog because there are SO MANY delicious recipes to try (and, tragically, always so little time).  Even if it’s AMAZINGGGG, I am always more excited about wasting my life browsing through blogs and making millions of to-make lists of new recipes.  An old recipe never makes the cut.  But I felt bad for these biscuits, which I made at school but never properly documented, because at school

So I decided that I had to make them again and write about it.

I also feel bad about choosing these as my one repeat, though =/  Sorry coconut scones!  It’s not you; it’s my brother.  Who likes bacon.  I don’t even like bacon!  So it’s not me, either.  You really thought I was gonna use that line, like my middle school “boyfriend” did?  But the fact of the matter is: the biscuits are cuter.  You were great, really.  But god, it’s just too soon.

Anyway.  Long story short: to justify this drama, I said to those coconut scones that I’m not technically doing the same recipe.  Last time, we sprinkled powdery parmesan meant for pasta-topping instead of adding real cheddar like the recipe says to do, and to add a bit more excitement, I decided to make it more fun to eat.  Hence the pull-apart.

I used extra sharp cheddar because I like my cheese the way I like my men: strong and rich.

One thing I think I could’ve done better last time was make the bacon crunchier.  My brother informed me that the technique for doing so is pouring off the grease as you cook.  So I did.  But APPARENTLY, you also aren’t supposed to throw all 15 strips of bacon into one pan.

Or burn the pan.

But it gives the pan such a well-worn and dearly loved rustic look.  Plus, I totally made a cat in the burnt lard!  =D

Do you see it?


Everything after and including that went well, though, except for the parts that I fucked up (and there weren’t any of those), but then there was too much dough for a small baking pan and too little for a big pan, so I went for the big pan, and it kind of just looks like a messy lump.


My dad really liked it, too.  Which means that either it was 1) not cinnamon-y, 2) SUPAR FATTY, 3) pie crust, or 4) all of the aforementioned.  I think if someone used those words to describe my cooking, I wouldn’t be altogether displeased.

I feel kind of gross now, though, from all the butterbaconcheeseflour.  But I scrubbed that pan afterwards, so that probably burned all 11 biscuits’ worth of calories.  I could’ve gone the whole dozen if I wanted to, but I decided to exercise some restraint.

And the biscuits probably weren’t even all that fatty.

Because all the [bacon] grease was in this bowl, and not the biscuits.

All this lard is making me sleepy…

Sometimes I get food comas confused with stroke comas -_____-”

*Fret not, eligible white bachelors and/or wealthy white parents!  I have schemed an elaborate elopement since birth =)

I just made scones. At 4:30 a.m.

They are so good that they are giving me a headache.

Or maybe that’s the sleep deprivation…


I’m obsessed with coconut.  If I weren’t extra careful, I would gain those 400 lbs I’ve been trying to gain since sophomore year of high school in about 2 days.  They may be my favorite fruit in the universe, except I feel like they’re fake outcast loser fruits who get made fun of in school because they’re so fat =/

Sad but true.


When I found this recipe, I knew I had to make them before moving back into school because one of my roommates is vegan, and I started this tradition for myself of baking something the night before leaving for school.  I think I started it because 1) I <3 baking, 2) kitchens at school usually suck, and 3) giving free food to your roommate is probably one of the best ways to achieve a high standing early on in the year, which gives you a bit of legroom for when you start snoring or forget to put the toilet seat down.

Part of my tradition is starting to bake at around midnight, when no one else is awake because they have to be driving me while I sleep in the car.  However, this year, I decided midnight was too early.  And I also had to start packing then, so baking got a little delayed…

I ALMOST decided to wait until morning and make the scones after getting a bit of sleep, but I was too super excited about them and pumped up on WOOOOOOOO THIS YEAR’S GONNA BE AWESOME adrenaline to go to sleep anytime soon, anyway.

Also, making scones means using the PASTRY BLENDER =D =D

I think it was the best decision of my life to make these scones right then because they are probably the most delicious vegan baked good since sliced bread.  They may even rival my non-vegan blueberry scones, which are made with pure heaven extract and also babies.  Really cute babies.


And I was totally going to finish this post a looooong time ago, but I started writing it at about 6 a.m., and then school started, and I have a terrible memory and don’t remember how I was going to finish this off at all, and the picture I used isn’t very exciting, but at this rate, nothing is going to be added, so I’ll just hit “publish.”

“Pigu” sounds like “ass” in Mandarin.

And after I popped them into the oven, my dad walked into the kitchen and declared (yes, he didn’t just say, he declared), “What are you making that smells so STANKY?!”

The main ingredient is cheese, and you know the saying “Who cut the cheese?”…

I think this food is aptly named.


So I love bread.  Like, LOVE.  I’m currently somewhat of a misandrist right now, too, so if I were given the choice between marrying a hunk of man or a loaf of bread, I’d go for the loaf of bread.

The most embarrassing thing about me, though (since I do a lot of baking), is that I SUCK at making bread and bready-type things.  My pizza dough is alright, but one time I made biscuits, and my dad liked them because they were buttery and salty, but no one touched them the next day.  I didn’t even touch them the first day.  I also attempted to make whole wheat dinner rolls once.  FAILURE.  I tried salvaging that by hacking at the rolls with a pastry blender after double toasting them to make homemade bread crumbs, but I never really use bread crumbs that often, so it was still kind of a waste =(

So maybe I would choose a man who bakes really good bread over bread itself.  Maybe.


This dough is supposed to be more of a pasta dough than a bread dough.

My brother insisted that I use the “two-fork technique” to mix in the flour.

The dough kept being really sticky, so I kept adding more flour until it was manageable.  But that didn’t work out too well.

I blame my brother.  He was the one that claimed “dough should not be that sticky”.

“NEEDZ MOAR FLOUR!!!!!!!!!!!” he said.

The dough did end up looking pretty okay.  Maybe I didn’t roll it out thin enough (I am SO bad at eyeing measurements).  Either way, there was definitely too much flour, so it was definitely my brother’s fault that it didn’t turn out the best.  But it turned out ok.

I knew something was really off, though, because I didn’t even grate quite as much cheese as the recipe said to use, but after filling up six pockets of pigu and using up all my dough, I had barely made a dent in the pile of eggy cheesey peppery filling.

Yeah, I used the same picture for “Before” and “After”. I thought that was the best way to illustrate my point.

The little asses I MEAN pigus(?) tasted alright, but since I had all this filling left, and I thought I was so close to making a delicious bready cheesey thing, I decided to try again the next day.

I added less flour this time, rolled it out a bit thinner…

Look how good I am at rolling out dough!

And STILL, there was leftover cheese.  I was baffled.  And frustrated.  So I decided to just mash up the rest of the cheese with what was left of the dough and roll it into a ball of odium and disgust at this witch-recipe.

Guess what I did with that knife.

But everything actually turned out really well.  Even my “biscuits”–my brother thought they tasted pretty good after complaining that my first batch of pigu was “bland”.

I should have started raging earlier.

And the actual pigu looked (and tasted) quite a bit better, too, I think.


But I don’t know if I’d make this recipe again.  I was decently happy with how everything turned out, and I might be more likely to attempt the “biscuits” again than the actual pigu, but even the “biscuits” leave something to be desired…

Again, I’d prefer a loaf of bread.