How to cook perfect flapjacks (2024)

Flapjacks are defiantly uncool. Unlike the hipster whoopie pie, or the faintly glamorous sounding tiffin, they smack of battered tins of Family Circle, wet walks, and muddy match teas. This presumably goes some way to explain how they've developed a peculiarly wholesome reputation, despite being a cheerful riot of butter and sugars, with a few oats chucked in as a sop to nutrition. Still, I'm not complaining – life can't be all fancy macarons, and it's good to have a few things in your repertoire robust enough to survive being hoisted up a hill in an anorak pocket.

This very portability has been the flapjack's downfall in recent times however – it's the cellophane-wrapped stalwart of the railway buffet trolley and the conference tea table, and the popularity has gone to its head. Some of these modern incarnations are so heavy that you can buy one pulling out of Edinburgh Waverley and have trouble getting out of your seat at Kings Cross.

Chewy v crunchy

There are two principal schools of flapjack: the chewy, and the crunchy. I'm firmly in the latter camp, but I'm prepared to concede the merits of the heartier sort, as long as it doesn't stray into stodge territory, so it's with some relief that I happen upon the information that the two can be made to the same recipe; it's the cooking method that determines the texture.

According to Lyle's Golden Syrup (a cornerstone of the flapjack) all you need to do to turn a soft flapjack into a tooth-breaker is choose a shallower baking tray and turn the oven up. I give this a try using their classic recipe, which includes butter, soft brown sugar, golden syrup and rolled oats. They're right – although I find both lots are a little bit dry and sandy.

Know your oats

Delia Smith uses whole oats in her baking book – she says they add "an extra dimension" to the dish, although she remains mysteriously silent on what this might be. Also known as "jumbo", these are thicker and more substantial than the steamed and rolled kind in the Lyle's recipe. They do indeed give the flapjacks a more interesting texture, but I find they crumble as I lift them out of the tin.

Searching for a solution online, I happen upon a remarkably comprehensive assessment of different recipes, oven temperatures and techniques courtesy of a chap called Andrew J Hardwick, who concludes that, while it is possible to make flapjacks entirely from cheap chopped oats, albeit rather dull ones, "pure rolled oats [do] not work well because the resulting cake is very fragile".

I decide to take his advice, and use a combination of the two, which, after some playing about with ratios, eventually gives me a coherent flapjack with a pleasingly assertive texture. Pressing the mixture down firmly before baking, and allowing them to cool completely in the tin before lifting them out also helps keep them from becoming tomorrow night's crumble topping.

Flour

See Also

Traditional British Flapjacks

Never one to rest on my laurels however, I'm duty bound to give the recipe from the National Trust Book of Traditional Teatime Recipes a try, thanks to its unusual extra ingredient: self-raising wholemeal flour. The idea, presumably, is similar to Dr Hardwick's, in that the flour will help to bind the larger oats together, but the result is grimly stodgy – although the mystery of the mass-produced monstrosities is finally solved.

Sugar sugar

Golden syrup is a non-negotiable ingredient as far as I'm concerned, but the other sugar is a matter of debate. Honey tends to take over in flapjacks, so I prefer the toffeeish flavour of brown sugar – it's an interesting contrast with the more uncomplicated sweetness of the syrup – particularly the larger crystals of demerara, rather than the fine soft stuff used in most recipes. This gives even the chewy tray of flapjacks a slight, but very welcome crunch.

Extras

I'm not keen on Delia's pinch of ground ginger – flapjacks should celebrate the basic flavours of butter and sugar – but I do quite like Tom Norrington-Davies' "brilliantly trashy" recipe with cornflakes, in homage to his grandmother, which reminds me of the treats we used to be given at school for tidying our desks. It's unorthodox, and you may prefer to keep up the healthy pretence with seeds or dried fruit instead, but do chuck in a few handfuls one day; they lower the tone, but by golly it's fun down there.

Perfect flapjacks

Makes 16
300g unsalted butter, plus extra to grease
75g demerara sugar
120g golden syrup (6 tablespoons)
250g jumbo rolled oats
200g quick-cook oats

Are flapjacks the acceptable face of tray bakes, or a health hazard in disguise? Do you prefer them chewy or crunchy, and what do you use to flavour them? And has anyone got any good ideas for those crumbly bits at the bottom of the tin?