Since I moved to England from New Zealand last year, I've heard plenty about all the foods I need to try - some of them downright frightening (I'm looking at you, jellied eels) and some delicious (hello, treacle tart). But ever since I met my boyfriend, a man who hails from Stoke-on-Trent in Staffordshire, he's talked my ear off about oat cakes.
I have politely listened for months about these and their various virtues until today when his flatmate returned from a trip home with three extra oatcakes in a ziploc bag and declared they were up for grabs to anyone who wanted them. It was his time to shine. After inspecting the oat cakes thoroughly, he declared they weren't his favourite brand but would do in a pinch.
To me, they looked like pancakes, but I was promised they were not - they offered so much more.
After slicing liberal amounts of cheese and putting me on bacon cooking duty, he placed the oatcakes under the grill, covered in cheddar with about an inch left around the sides. This, he informed me, was to ensure proper rolling technique because unlike pancakes, oatcakes are served more like a burrito.
With the bacon crisped, the cheese melted and the oat cakes piping hot, we layered them up with meat and brown sauce, with a bit of ketchup for good measure, and then it was time to tuck in.
I was handed a knife and fork which confused me; I had assumed this would be an eat with your hands situation but apparently this is the fastest way to get a cheesy grease burn so I took the experts' advice and took my first bite.
Immediately, I knew this was a hitter, and I understood why my boyfriend loves them so much. Oatcakes are definitely similar to pancakes, but with significantly more structural integrity - and they're gluten free too.
The actual oatcake itself doesn't have much flavour, but the texture is perfect - slightly crispy at the ages but soft and pliable at the centre. As my boyfriend said, the oatcake is just a vehicle for bacon, cheese or other breakfast staples: all the good things in the world.
