Sometimes less really makes more feel like more

So after all that, it's March and the bear egg is still in the back of the cupboard from clearing the table for Christmas dinner. I'll drag it out at some point.

Today, however, I drowned my sorrows in golden syrup. I decided to make Danielle Raine's flapjack recipe  again, but this time try harder not to burn it. Here's what I ended up with.

Don't look at the gunk on the tiles behind the stove. You know yours is the same. I'm going to clean it tomorrow. Probably.

So it looks like a huge quantity of flapjack, but it really isn't. I made the amount in Danielle's recipe and stuck it in two standard sized tins and squashed it really really really flat all over. Then after it was baked, I cut each tray into a ridiculous 36 small bars. That makes 72 from one pack of butter and half a bag of oats.

Why so small? Because being allowed to have a THIRD flapjack is far more exciting for a greedy little boy than being given one large one, which, lets face it, is eaten just as quickly. The possibilities for bribery are bewildering.

And yes, the two pieces missing were eaten by me while still warm and went very nicely with a well-earned cup of tea.