Why Oatcakes Belong in a Coastal Rucksack

There is a particular kind of hunger that only arrives on a headland, halfway along a clifftop path with the wind at your back and the sea doing its best impression of a washing machine below. Flapjacks go sticky. Sandwiches go sad. A bag of crisps becomes a matter of chance. Oatcakes, by contrast, are practically engineered for the British seaside: dense, dry in the right way, and sturdy enough to survive being sat on in the bottom of a rucksack beside a damp cagoule.

They are also, happily, one of the easiest things you can bake at home. Half an hour of work, a hot oven, and a store cupboard you probably already have. What follows is a traditional crisp oatcake — the kind that snaps rather than bends — with enough background detail to help you get them right the first time.

What You Actually Need

The old recipes are almost aggressively plain, and that is the point. You want the oats to taste of oats, because that is what will stand up to a slab of strong cheddar or a pot of smoked mackerel pâté later.

• 250g medium oatmeal — not porridge oats, which are too fine and floury for this job
• 50g pinhead or coarse oatmeal, for bite, plus extra for dusting
• Half a teaspoon of fine sea salt
• Half a teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda
• 40g butter, lard or beef dripping, cold and cubed
• About 120ml hot water, from the kettle, not quite boiling

If your oatmeal is very fresh and moist you will need less water; if it has been in the cupboard since last winter, a splash more. Judge by feel, not by the recipe. Some bakers add a couple of tablespoons of plain flour for a slightly more forgiving dough, and there is no shame in it, though purists in the north-east will raise an eyebrow.

Making the Dough

Tip the oatmeals, salt and bicarbonate into a large bowl and stir them together with your fingers. Add the fat and rub it in lightly, as you would for shortcrust pastry, until the mixture looks like rough sand with a few larger flakes still visible. Those flakes are what give the finished oatcake its lovely cracked texture.

Pour in most of the hot water and bring everything together with a wooden spoon, then finish with your hands. You are looking for a stiff, slightly crumbly dough that holds when squeezed but does not stick to the bowl. If it is dry, add water a tablespoon at a time. Let it rest for ten minutes under a clean tea towel, which gives the oats time to drink and makes rolling far easier.

Rolling, Cutting and Baking

Heat the oven to 180°C, or gas mark 4, and line two baking trays with greaseproof paper. Scatter a little coarse oatmeal on the worktop rather than flour — flour makes the outside tough, and oatmeal keeps the flavour honest.

• Roll the dough out to about 4–5mm thick. Thinner means crisper; thicker means a chewier, more biscuit-like oatcake.
• Cut into rounds with a 6–7cm cutter, or simply cut the circle into triangles with a knife, which is quicker and uses every scrap.
• Lift onto the trays with a palette knife and prick each one twice with a fork so they do not puff.
• Bake for 18–20 minutes, turning the trays halfway, until they are pale gold at the edges and dry to the touch.

Here is the crucial bit: turn the oven down to 140°C and give them another 10 minutes. This second drying stage is what separates a proper oatcake from a disappointing one. Cool on a wire rack, where they will crisp up further as they go cold.

Variations Worth Trying

Once you have the basic method, the fun starts. Work these into the dry ingredients before adding water.

• Rosemary and sea salt — a heaped teaspoon of finely chopped rosemary, excellent with goat's cheese
• Cracked black pepper — a generous teaspoon, and a natural partner for smoked mackerel
• Grated mature cheddar — 50g stirred through, which makes them dangerously eatable on their own
• Seeds — a tablespoon each of poppy and sesame seeds, pressed into the surface before baking

For a sweeter version, add a tablespoon of soft brown sugar and a pinch of cinnamon, then sandwich two cooled oatcakes with a little butter and bramble jelly.

Packing for the Coast

Oatcakes keep for a fortnight in an airtight tin, and they genuinely improve after a day or two, so bake them midweek for a weekend outing. Store them in a tin or a cloth bag rather than a plastic box, which traps moisture and turns them soft and disappointing. At the beach, decant chutney into a small screw-top jar, cut the cheese at home, and wrap it in waxed paper. A flask of strong tea completes the picture. Eat them sitting on a harbour wall, looking out at something grey and beautiful, and you will understand why this recipe has survived so long.