I had my first whole flapjack yesterday. Yes, an entire square of the dense oaty snack. I know this doesn’t sound particularly momentous but, for a fussy eater like me, it was pretty significant. Okay, calling myself a fussy eater is a bit misleading. I’m just one of those people with a few peculiarities when it comes to the state of my food (no, it’s not the same thing as being fussy). For instance, I like porridge oats (thank God for microwavable packs), but cannot stand any other thing made with oats. Hobnobs, flapjacks (until yesterday), granola bars – no, thank you. There’s something about their texture and taste that makes it difficult for me to keep them down. Don’t ask why. I wish I knew the reason too.
Other weird ones? I don’t mind milk chocolates bars, but don’t mention chocolate cakes, cookies, brownies or most other chocolate desserts in my presence (especially if you throw in a healthy batch of peanuts). I’m terrible at restaurants because most chefs believe covering a menu with chocolate items will please everyone. I’ve had to order my fair share of vanilla ice-creams as I brave perplexed stares from other diners. My nuttiness even goes as far as fruits. Fresh fruits? Yes. Baked fruits? Urgh! So, apple/cherry pies and strawberry tarts are not for me but I will happily eat an entire bowl of the fruits in fresh form. The only reverse situation is with blueberries. Blubbery muffins? Heaven. Fresh blueberries? Gross! See my point? Inexplicable peculiarities.
So yesterday, when a work colleague asked why I wasn’t tucking into the batch of flapjacks and chocolate muffins he’d made, I refrained from wrinkling my nose as I politely declined. There’s nothing worse than taking food and wasting it if you know it’s something you don’t like. But he wouldn’t let it go, insisting that he didn’t like the texture or taste of regular flapjacks too so he made his slightly different. Not wanting to seem ungracious (he was really plugging his baking talents), I decided to break a corner off a square and give it a go.
Ten seconds later, I was ooooing and aaahing as I nibbled away at the flapjack I’d nearly rejected. It looked like a flapjack, smelt like a flapjack but tasted like a drop of paradise. Slight exaggeration? Probably, but you get my drift. I wasn’t listening when he listed the ingredients used to make it oh so delicious but I’m sure he mentioned vanilla and lots more golden syrup than normal recipes. Let’s just hope the goodness of oats offsets the calories from the additional syrup.
I’m eating my second every flapjack as I write this. And yes, it’s from the same batch and yummy as ever. I might go for a third if there’s any left by the end of the day. Don’t judge me; I have a lot of lost time to make up for!