St. Patrick’s Day is Thursday, and I can guarantee you that I will forget to wear green. If anyone pinches me, you’ll get a reflexive elbow jab to the eye.
Okay, that was kind of harsh. But really, I don’t forget to wear green on purpose. I barely own anything green. I’m more of a black and gray kind of person with my clothing choices. That way, everything matches!
But with food? That’s a different story altogether. I love me some green food, and when there’s a holiday to be celebrated, that’s even better. These pistachio cookie cups are the perfect festive treat!
Let’s get back to the wardrobe for a minute, because I have often been mistaken for a vampire, thanks to my color choices. You see, I wear a lot of black. A lot. It’s partly because yes, it matches everything, but it also expresses my deep disapproval of winter and mourning for summer. Once the seasons change, the sundresses can come out of hiding!
Thanks to genetics and rigorous sunscreen usage, I have extremely pale skin. My students have accused me of being a vampire, and I don’t bother contradicting them. After all, fear can work to a teacher’s advantage. The contrast of very dark hair with my regularly ashen hue is definitely a motivator for the black clothing preference as well. It’s an exercise in contrast.
So yeah, when tomorrow rolls around, there will probably be no green. I won’t even pull out a green scarf because, nope, don’t have one. Or a pin. Does anyone in my generation wear pins anymore? They mainly serve to make holes in jackets.
Here’s hoping that nobody pinches you come tomorrow if you forget your green. If you walk around armed with pistachio cookie cups, they’ll like you too much to hurt you!
These are so easy to make. The base is a yellow cake mix, to which you add pistachio pudding mix and other basic ingredients. Then you bake them in mini-muffin molds and frost. Watch how easy this is to do!
I told ya. Easy. If you head to the store after work, these will be done in less than an hour. In the recipe, I use bought frosting to speed things up. You could use the kind that comes in tubs, or you could do my favorite hack, which is to buy a container of vanilla frosting from your favorite local bakery.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all. May it be a pinch-free day full of fun, laughter, and green food!
I fulfill many roles in life: wife, mother, teacher, everlasting learner.
This site is dedicated to one role that expresses my creativity in ways that I find consistently challenging and rewarding: baker.
Inventing new ways to enhance food, especially if that food involves chocolate or peanut butter (or both!), is a passion of mine. I look forward to sharing my ideas with you.
We’re here. Gingerbread season. Let’s do it up right!
I’ll be honest with you: I have very mixed feelings about the holidays. They seem to be an elaborate ruse to guide us toward winter with enthusiasm, where we’re left in January with bare trees, chilly mornings and frozen windshields. But on the other hand, those lights sure are pretty.
While I don’t celebrate Christmas, I can get down with gingerbread anything. That includes these gingerbread cookie cheesecake bars, which are both easy and festive. They’re also studded with cinnamon chips, one of my favorite baking inventions.
See, he’s a vanilla kid. He loves plain desserts, like sugar cookies. He’ll usually opt for crackers or tortilla chips instead of something sweet. He’s also as blonde and blue-eyed as the day is long, whereas I have extremely dark hair and eyes. So much for dominant genes!
One of the only desserts I make that he’ll eat are peanut butter cookies, the plain kind. No mix-ins allowed. I tried it once with peanut butter cups and he was pretty annoyed. So until he can bake, I’ll keep making the plain cookies. This recipe is pretty old school, and it works great!
There are very few non-chocolate desserts that I’ll go for. I’ve been working on establishing my love for anything with a crumb topping, so we’re clear on that! And I do have a special fondness for cheesecake, as do most breathing human beings. But along with these exceptions to my rule, I love anything with marzipan or almonds. My German grandparents pretty much made sure of that by passing down their love of almond through my mother and straight to me.
I’m a total sucker for chewy almond cookies, the kind you get at good, old-school bakeries. Sometimes they’re plain, sometimes dipped in chocolate. They come in all different shapes. I don’t really care what they look like, as long as they’re soft. Once they age and get harder, I lose interest. When I was a kid, our local fishmonger used to sell them (no idea why), and his name was Mr. Moon. So, I’ve always called almond cookies Moon Cookies.