Now, flapjack is a subject particularly close to my heart. (I say this in an English, as in UK-based, context – I have a notion that to the North-American, flapjacks might be some sort of pancake thingy?) Not a biscuit, yet not quite an un-biscuit, the oaty delightfulness of a decent flapjack can hardly be surpassed by the best of chocolatey offerings, for me. And so it is that I pass on a particularly successful flapjack encounter which took place yesterday, courtesy of discovering a rather dodgy-looking old lemon in the bottom of the fridge.

Zesty Flapjacks

Get hold of:
3 cups of oats
1 cup of plain flour
½ cup of butter (you can also use something like sunflower oil)
½ cup of dark brown sugar
2 large spoons of golden syrup
Juice and zest of 1 rather antique lemon (you could also use a non-dodgy one, should you prefer)
A splosh of orange juice, enough to cover –
A handful of sultanas

Then…
Put the oven on at about 180°c. Whack the sugar, butter and syrup in a reasonably large pan and melt it all together over a low heat. When it’s formed a sort of treacly-looking liquid, move on to the lemony bit, which is to say grate the zest into a small pan, squeeze the juice in too, chuck the sultanas in and cover them with orange juice before giving them a judicious boil for a few minutes and leaving them to soak while you measure the oats and whatnot into the pan with the treaclyness. Stir the oats and flour until the treaclyness covers them completely, and then sling the lemony mixture in. Stick the lot in a shallow baking tin, something like eight inches square, and pop it in the oven for about twenty minutes. Remove from oven. Inhale wondrous citrussy loveliness, and marvel at the strange way that sultanas always look utterly buggered when exposed to heat, yet retain a toffee-like chewiness which belies their burnt-looking exterior. Retire, armed with perhaps a nice mug of Earl Grey, and scarf the lot.