The bext biscuits in existence are these, even though they are called cakes.
My mother-in-law has been going on for years about oatcakes. The Scots have them with breakfast, lunch and dinner, she said. They are a staple in certain parts of Caledonia, she said. They are delicious, she said.
She was right.
It's just that the name - 'oatcakes' - makes them sound like bircher muesli or wholemeal scones or hunza pie or similar horrors (I actually quite like bircher muesli).
But oatcakes are not like that at all!
Try this recipe for the perfect Scottish supper for two anywhere in the world (it helps if it is winter):
Go for a walk along the wild ocean coast, after an early dinner, when the sky is just a strip of fading gold beneath a massive black cloud merging into the darkening sky, like a blind drawn down to within an inch of the window in a lit room.
Return with an appetite.
Lay six oatcakes on a plate. Drape two with smoked atlantic salmon. Spread two with cream cheese. Pate or liverwurst on the last two. Now, pour a single malt or fine blended Scotch into two wide glasses. Place them, and the oatcake platter, on the little table in between your favourite chairs in front of an open fire.
Enjoy the quiet, unhurried moment.
Then:
Oh, is that the baby crying?
No, you stay there, I'll get him.
Baby comes out, wide awake, face glowing in the reflection of the fire.
He wants his supper, too.
My mother-in-law has been going on for years about oatcakes. The Scots have them with breakfast, lunch and dinner, she said. They are a staple in certain parts of Caledonia, she said. They are delicious, she said.
She was right.
It's just that the name - 'oatcakes' - makes them sound like bircher muesli or wholemeal scones or hunza pie or similar horrors (I actually quite like bircher muesli).
But oatcakes are not like that at all!
Try this recipe for the perfect Scottish supper for two anywhere in the world (it helps if it is winter):
Go for a walk along the wild ocean coast, after an early dinner, when the sky is just a strip of fading gold beneath a massive black cloud merging into the darkening sky, like a blind drawn down to within an inch of the window in a lit room.
Return with an appetite.
Lay six oatcakes on a plate. Drape two with smoked atlantic salmon. Spread two with cream cheese. Pate or liverwurst on the last two. Now, pour a single malt or fine blended Scotch into two wide glasses. Place them, and the oatcake platter, on the little table in between your favourite chairs in front of an open fire.
Enjoy the quiet, unhurried moment.
Then:
Oh, is that the baby crying?
No, you stay there, I'll get him.
Baby comes out, wide awake, face glowing in the reflection of the fire.
He wants his supper, too.
we had oatcakes as part of a huge breakfast at a B and B in Canberra. It was truly yum. Completely deceptive given the health food shop name.
ReplyDeleteCongrats on the little tyke. He seems to be be part of the furniture already!
We'll keep oatcakes a secret! And yes, Sue, wee Will is settling in very well indeed.
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