Tag Archives: graham cracker

Compost Cookies

Call em compost cookies, garbage cookies, kitchen sink cookies — they’re more like everything-but-the-kitchen-sink cookies!

These chewy-crunchy treats are full of snacks snacks snacks. What kind of snacks?

compost01

Your favourite kind, of course!

Not only are they full of snack foods, but these magical cookies can lead you to a place of epiphany and a greater self understanding — for example, up until a few days ago I would have certainly, definitely not considered myself a “potato chip” person.

But, when I had to buy chips in order to make this recipe for a friend — insert snobby foodie eyeroll here — what did I do with the left over chips? I ate them. All of them.

In, like, 10 seconds flat.

Then I realized that I had no more chips left over for any photos, so I went back to the 7-11 to buy more chips and take some final photos, and then I ate those, too.

Arrgh!

Much to my own chagrin, I’ve come to understand that the real reason why I don’t usually buy chips is because must I have a very deep, very dark, and (up until now) very secret — secret even to me! — love in my heart for them.

But that’s okay — because I can make compost cookies. They make me feel justified in my brazen potato chip love.

Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Roséy Strawberry Cream Tart

Once upon a time, I only wanted to get drunk on fruity, girly cocktails.

I ate a lot of instant noodles, played a lot of video games, skipped a lot of school, and was content in my adolescent lifestyle.

When I went back to school and got serious, though, everything changed — I started out at Langara College, where I actually began to fit in, feel respected, and succeed (all at the same time!) for the first time in my life.

It was me on my path to becoming a proper adult.

Anyways, because I’d always liked reading and writing, I took a lot of English classes while collecting enough credits to transfer to UBC.

It didn’t take too long to notice that one of the many things my much-admired English profs were always talking about was wine.

Reading and drinking wine. Getting nice bottles of wine. Giving nice bottles of wine. Even the characters in the classic literature I read always seemed to be drinking in luxurious wine.

I knew what I had to do to be a proper adult, an adult like the English profs I aspired to emulate: I had to drink wine, too — even though I hated it!

Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,