Oh no! Jillslawit, the master-crafts-lass at random haphazardness strikes again. Kitchen-tastrophes seem to follow me around, I must subconsciously be laying a trail of breadcrumbs to lure them in the direction of my cooker.
This time, I have attempted to make a delicious-looking recipe which looked easy, yummy and Jill-proof, so some oat biscuits seemed the very thing.
Ingredients – check. Equipment – check. Saturday afternoon with 3 year old Granddaughter Happy Helper – check. Right, follow all instructions to the letter. So far so good. Exit little Lily at this point to decant water from a large jug to a small jug to a cup and back again, which she loves to do.
Time to shape my biscuits ready to bake. My first observation is that I seem to have a lot more mixture than baking tray space. Ok, use two trays. Next observation, no nice neat small biscuits for me – I have big oaty splodges.
Turns out, when they’re cooked, my unservable-to-the-Queen splodges taste really quite nice to say they look so wrong. Lily approves too, which surely says something. I’ve since had another crack at this recipe, this blog isn’t called ‘Where there’s a Jill, there’s a way’ for nothing. This time I treated the prepared mixture as a traybake, and sliced it into squares afterwards with my pizza cutter. Job’s a good ‘un, as we say round here.