This cookie was baked long ago in the Qin Dynasty in ancient China. Though the recipe has been lost to the sands of time, historians know that this type of cookie was baked exclusively for those the emperor wished to honour. By examining historical records I have determined that this cookie's delivery was interupted by a viking raid, who would have brought it back to native Scandinavia as a gift to Odin.

Based on the fact that this cookie is decidedly unconsumed, Odin did not like it. As punishment, he would have thrown the vikings that gave it to him into space to die horribly. The descendants of the leader of the raid would then have been tasked to kill someone using the cookie or be condemned to Hel, the boring Viking version of Hell.

After examining this biscuit thoroughly with my magicascope, I can tell it was not in Ireland during the fairy occupation due to the lack of any aura. 

 

My totally geniune magicascope.

I assume it was brought over during a raid on a monastery, as the cookie shows signs of burning, likely caused by a monk's holy fireball attack. Presumably, the wielder of the cookie was killed by said fireball and the cookie, lost. As the cookie was retrieved by the native Irish, the raid leader's descendants still suffer from Odin's curse. SUCKS TO BE THEM.

Fortunately, it seems that this cookie was untouched during the great Patrick-Snake war of 475. It would have been a shame if St. Patrick's orbital cannons were pointed at wherever this marvellous biscuit was at the time. I suspect some Celtic king took a liking to the cookie, and kept it safe during the bombardment.

For the next millenium or so, this cookie would pass from owner to owner, with nothing particularily interesting happening to it. Its next high point in history was during the Ulster Plantation. Irish bandits who had been driven off their land held it up as a symbol of the good old days when attacking Protestant settlers. These bandits were of course wiped out when Oliver Cromwell sunk a significant portion of Ireland, and the cookie would then come into the possession of a wealthy English landowner. I noticed what might have been teeth marks on the cookie, so I assume a landowner nibbled on it in front of their tennants during the Great Famine.

Since the middle of the nineteenth century, this cookie has resided in a box in a house in Connemara. A few weeks ago, I liberated it with the help of a professional "retriever of valuable items" and began my research into its past, which you have just read.

I then took a bite. It was awful.