For Jasmine Cho, baking is a flow state. The kitchen is a place where she can play, even if the rules are rigid and the work requires structure. But as she developed her business—which started as Yummyholic and now goes by Butter and Joy—she started to feel she was getting “pigeonholed.” Many know her as the “cookie activist” who creates intricate portraits of Asian Americans throughout history on top of sugar cookies. Cho wrote a whole book about how to create hobbies that are just for fun, not work. Then, she herself dealt with balancing how something she loved and did for fun became her livelihood.
But 2025 is going to be the year that Cho realizes a long-held dream: A forever home for Butter and Joy, in the cozy East End neighborhood of Morningside. “I want to bake other things besides cookies, and this new kitchen will be a chance to reconnect to with initial joys I had around baking,” she said. “When you follow your flow, part of you needs to learn how to flow and part of you needs to learn how to direct the flow. You also need to think of how to keep what you do remaining sacred for you.”
Jasmine Cho on Centering Joy and Finding Your Flow
Cho’s life over the past five years has been devoted to centering joy, but life has thrown plenty of curveballs. Cho grew up learning Tae Kwon Do alongside her father, grandmaster Hee Il Cho, who still teaches Tae Kwon Do in Honolulu at age 85. In 2024, her father suffered a series of scattered strokes, so she and her fiancé, musician Jordan Taylor, flew to Hawaii to spend time with him.
She and Taylor were prepared for the worst. “But my dad just had this miraculous recovery. Everything just fell into place, like how it was meant to happen,” Cho recalled. They didn’t know how they would afford a trip to Hawaii, but Taylor had the right amount of savings. Both their jobs made accommodations for remote work. And that time away from her day-to-day environment allowed Cho to plan for the next stage of her business.
Like Tae Kwon Do, baking requires both discipline and ease. To make her cookie portraits, Cho sometimes draws a template, but most of the time she works off of a photo. She then shapes it with an X-acto knife or a 3D printed custom shaper. First, she works on the face, using a combination of clear alcohol (“usually cheap vodka,” she said) and food coloring. The alcohol evaporates off, but seals the food coloring in. Then, she goes in and adds shading and other layers using the same process. At times, she uses edible luster dust to add blush or extra pizzazz to the portrait.
Though it’s highly technical, she finds it relaxing. Cho also loves building puzzles like Gundam figurines or Legos. Baking is a similar puzzle for Cho. Taking a break from her business allowed her to prepare better for its next evolution.
Yummyholic Becomes Butter and Joy
Taylor, who also taught film students, had two mentees from his film class named Milk and Joy. Cho remembered thinking to herself that it would be a great name for a bakery, so when she fell out of love with “Yummyholic,” she then adapted it slightly to create Butter and Joy. Cho felt the name “Yummyholic” wasn’t in alignment with who she was now. “I was really struggling with it, because all the deeper work happened after I had already started the business,” Cho said. She had experienced high highs as a Food Network champion and TEDx speaker, but she now felt that she needed a change.
Her new space in Morningside will also be where her and Taylor live, with a commercial space downstairs. Like every place in Pittsburgh, the origin story of what it used to be is part of what it is. The building on Chislett Street was formerly Fritz’s Deli, so it came outfitted with everything Cho needed for a bakery. She’ll be starting off with pop-up events she’s calling “joymakase.”
The concept honors meaning of the word omakase: “I entrust it to you,” meaning the guests entrust the chef with their experience. Cho is planning it as a collaboration with Taylor, who found a creative groove for his musical practice during their time in Hawaii. For the “joymakase” sessions, Cho has considered calling the first one “Bakers’ Dozen”—13 songs with 13 bites alongside them.
“But the only thing we know for sure is a tasting and listening experience that can introduce people to Korean culture,” she said. “I’m considering what the community will want. I’d like to offer classics with my own cultural identity infused onto them them, like matcha brownies, for example. Or, more flavors I experienced in Hawaii like hojicha and banana lumpia.”
Using Resources and Rebuilding Community
Cho never dreamed Butter and Joy would get its own space so soon. But, like she’s seen so many times, everything worked out in its flow. “The whole story of how this happened is so wild,” she recalled. On March 5, 2025 (she noted the exact date because she has her Google Search history), she looked up the keywords “small commercial kitchen in Morningside.” The first result was the listing she and Taylor just closed on. Their offer wasn’t the highest, but they wrote a personal letter to the owners that their realtor said was the deciding factor in closing the deal. They also got a bridge loan because the value of their home in Uptown shot up, so one home will help finance another. Cho hopes to have the space operational in fall of 2025.
“I’m looking forward to re-building community and introducing and re-introducing myself to a lot of people,” Cho said. “I’m just excited to meet folks and start up with the pop-ups. The number one priority for me too is collaborating with people.” She’s interested in working with military veterans in Morningside or doing her own spin on the Netflix film Nonnas where a restaurant opens only staffed by grandmothers.
One of her central values, which she learned while working for Americorps Public Allies, is to “focus on assets.” In other words, to see what already exists before imposing your own ideas. When she started baking pineapple coconut squares with her best friend as a teenager, what resonated with her was the idea that though flour, raw eggs, and sugar aren’t great on their own, but together, they make something delicious. “The whole alchemy of baking made it feel completely involved in the process,” she said. “All these separate ingredients that are inedible on their own can come together and create something that amplifies joy.” She hopes to bring that spirit to the next iteration of Butter and Joy.
Story by Emma Riva
Photo courtesy of Jasmine Cho
Subscribe to TABLE Magazine’s print edition.
