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I believe desserts should be a little scandalous — like, they should make you apologize to your dentist and then buy them flowers. Also: puddings that pretend to be cakes are my favorite kind of deception. Coconut and Pistachio Pudding Cake is the kind of thing that makes me reconsider life choices (and whether pistachios are a personality trait). If you loved my riff on pistachio pudding bread, this is that cousin who shows up with a weird haircut and then makes you a cocktail (no alcohol, just charm).

A very public kitchen fail (yes, I cried a little)

Okay, confession time: I once made this and it sounded like a tiny drum solo in the oven. Not dramatic — literally little pops as the top separated from the edges, like the cake was whispering secrets. The smell? Imagine coconut oil and burnt confidence. The texture: spongy in the middle, oddly wet at the edges (why?!), and it slid off the serving plate in a way that could be classified as "performance art." I blamed the recipe, then blamed the oven, then blamed my childhood for not teaching me patience.

I remember standing there with a spatula, talking to the batter like it’s a shy dog. "Come on, just hold together." It did not. Also I used whole milk instead of coconut milk that day because I am a culinary rebel — except I’m not — and the flavors went flat. You live, you learn, you post a blurry photo out of shame. The shame lives rent-free in my camera roll.

Why I kept tinkering until it behaved

What changed? Mostly my temper (a little) and my technique (a lot). I stopped treating the eggs like suggestions and started respecting their bindery ambitions. Also switching to canned coconut milk made the flavor honest instead of sleepy. Small adjustments: measuring instead of charismatically eyeballing, sifting the flour (because lumps are emotional landmines), and—this is wildly practical—the pistachios get chopped and folded gently so they don’t summon a sinkhole of crumbs.

Listen, I still sometimes doubt whether it’s a pudding or a cake. But this version hits the sweet spot where it jiggles slightly (in a cute non-creepy way) and holds a slice. I brought a pan to a potluck once and someone said, "This tastes like a memory" which is either the nicest compliment or they were being polite about the coconut. Also, if you ever wonder about dessert families and why some desserts act out, read my other experiments like that over at my cookie butter banana pudding cheesecake cake post. You’ll feel better about your own chaos.

Ingredients (yes, just the essentials — and a little commentary)

1 cup coconut milk
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup pistachios, chopped
1/4 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt

Budget-friendly, pantry-friendly, and texture-friendly (pistachios add that luxurious chew without being snooty). If you can’t find canned coconut milk where you live, there’s a system of bartering and prayer — or you can try a thicker plant milk and cross fingers.

Cooking Unit Converter

If cups and grams give you trust issues, this little tool will translate so your oven doesn’t judge you.

The actual cooking (short and not a manifesto)

Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease a cake pan.
In a bowl, mix together the coconut milk, sugar, and eggs until well combined.
Sift in the flour, baking powder, and salt, and stir until smooth.
Fold in the chopped pistachios and shredded coconut.
Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan and spread it evenly.
Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.
Let it cool before serving.

Also: don’t overmix or it gets sad. If your oven runs hot (mine judges me for life), check at 22 minutes. And if you like a slightly denser, more pudding vibe — nudge it toward the shorter bake time. Interrupting myself: EVERYTHING TASTES BETTER WITH A LITTLE MORE VANILLA, but you’re allowed to disagree.

Are we all lowering our standards together? (Reader chat)

Who else has used a spatula as a measuring tool? Be honest. Do you fold nuts in with a zen playlist or while watching true crime? You should answer out loud, even if your plants judge. Also — for the person who inevitably asks — yes, this is totally fine for a weekday treat. For the person who wants to bring something to a dinner party and also look like they knew what they were doing? This. Serve it with coffee and a feigned air of nonchalance.

If you’re hosting picky eaters, stash extra chopped pistachios on the side so they can play chef. And if you want playful adjacent desserts, maybe try my take on fried strawberry cheesecake sandwiches which are dramatic and provide good gossip fodder.

Can I make this ahead of time? +

Yes. It actually tightens up nicely if made a day ahead and stored in the fridge. Let it come to room temp before serving for peak softness.

Are pistachios necessary? +

No, but they are morally superior in this recipe. Walnuts or almonds work in a pinch, but you’re missing the pale-green vibe.

Can I use light coconut milk? +

You can, but the flavor and creaminess will be less audacious. If you’re into subtlety, knock yourself out. If you want boldness, use full-fat canned coconut milk.

Is this gluten-free? +

Not as written (hello, all-purpose flour), but you can swap a 1:1 gluten-free flour and it usually behaves similarly. Beware different brands—they have opinions.

How do I store leftovers? +

Tightly covered in the fridge for up to 4 days. If it gets a little dry, a short microwave zap revives it like therapy.

I keep thinking about how weird it is that food can feel like therapy — but it does. This cake is loud in a soft way and kind of like me at brunch: too many layers, slightly nutty, and offering big apologies in the form of dessert but also… wait, I forgot to take the cat off the counter—