Coconut Macaroons: Sweet, Sticky, and the Only Thing Holding Me Together
Listen. Some days, I want to bake something that screams, “I tried,” without actually trying. Something that looks vaguely fancy but requires the effort level of texting your ex “lol no” at 2am. Enter: coconut macaroons. Not to be confused with macarons (those diva pastel sandwich cookies), macaroons are their goth cousin who wears black eyeliner in the rain and doesn’t apologize for being exactly as they are.
These are chewy, toasty little sugar bombs made almost entirely of shredded coconut and spite. They’re naturally gluten-free and guilt-free (because this isn’t the ‘90’s and we don’t shame people for eating), and don’t care if your life is a flaming trash barge. They just show up, sweet and sticky, like your best friend who’ll key someone’s car for you without asking questions.
They also look like they took more effort than they did—which is excellent for those of us maintaining the illusion of having our shit together while living on cold brew and anxiety.
So go ahead. Whip up a batch of these golden little stress balls, and maybe—just maybe—feel something again.
Coconut Macaroons (a.k.a. “Emotional Support Haystacks”)
Ingredients
2 ½ cups sweetened shredded coconut
⅔ cup sweetened condensed milk (half a can, basically)
1/3 cup flour
1 tsp vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
Optional only if you want your macaroons to be subpar: melted dark chocolate for dipping or drizzling
Instructions
Preheat oven to 325°F (163°C) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper, because scrubbing burnt sugar off metal is a hate crime.
Over low heat, toast the coconut shreds in a skillet for about 5 minutes until the edges get a little color. This is not a mandatory step, but makes a big difference flavor-wise if you have a few extra minutes.
In a large bowl, mix coconut, condensed milk, flour, vanilla, and salt until it forms a sticky, questionably-textured blob.
Scoop heaping tablespoons and plop them like awkward thoughts onto the tray. Slightly shape into mounds with wet fingers.
Another optional step: freeze for 30 minutes. This helps them hold their shape better when they bake, but who am I to judge a lumpy love blob?
Bake for 20–25 minutes, or until golden brown on the edges and the blobs have blobbed. I promise I won’t say the word blob again.
Cool completely. Dip the bottoms in melted chocolate if you want to feel fancy or drizzle with dark chocolate, or both if you’re bougie.
Store in an airtight container. I like to put these in the freezer and pull one or two out at time for my afternoon coffee (they defrost quickly). Or just eat them all over the sink like the messy little trash panda you are.
