Thursday, January 28, 2010

International House of Oatcakes

Most years, just before Christmas,  my friend L from Sleeping Cougar Acres and I get together to do our holiday baking.  This year, in addition to the customary chocolate gingerbread and butter tarts, we added honey bun bread and Scottish oatcakes to our repertoire.

Though we did use a recipe for the oatcakes, there wasn't much Scottish about them by the time we finished. 

We used a cookie-dough scoop to ensure our oatcakes were a uniform size.  Somehow I can't imagine my Scottish ancestors needing a cookie-dough scoop to make their oatcakes.  The German-made scoop was the first touch of global flair.


Our oatcakes drifted even further from their Scottish roots when we ditched the rolling pin recommended in the recipe.  Instead, we flattened the dough in a tortilla press - a tortilla press made in Taiwan no less.  These were becoming rather cosmopolitan oatcakes.

Once out of the tortilla press, L cut the rounds into wedges with a pizza cutter. I don't know where the pizza cutter was made, but it certainly added an Italian feel to an already international experience.  

If you consider that the whole process was carried out by two Canadian women, I think it's safe to say that these oatcakes couldn't be considered Scottish any more.  They were more of a Scottish-Canadian-Italian-Taiwanese-Mexican-German oatcake.  They were the United Nations of oatcakes.  And they were yummy.  In fact, I liked them so much I asked Santa Hubby for my own tortilla press.  Lucky for me the man takes a hint well, and there was a shiny new tortilla press under the tree for me.  

Oatcakes have since become a staple in our house.  I make them regularly to replace store-bought crackers.  Each time I make them they stray a little bit further from their Scottish roots.  I made some this morning that included olive oil, ground flax seeds, whole flax seeds and cumin.  I topped them with some coarse kosher salt, and once they were baked L came over and helped me eat them with homemade hummus.   I have the feeling we're not in Scotland anymore!

Note:  Today's post was fueled by Smokehead Islay Single Malt Scotch Whiskey.  I don't usually drink while I'm writing, as it seems rather clichéd, but today each time I wrote "Scottish" my brain heard "scotch". When I couldn't stand it any more I went and poured myself a wee dram. 

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