British flapjacks are nothing like American flapjacks. Think granola bar, not pancake. They’re a little bit chewy, a little bit crunchy and nerdily uncool in their humble, oaty goodness. Unlike, say, the macaron, there’s no delicate piping, no pastel boxes, no Parisian drama. The flapjack is the sturdy raincoat of the baking world: humble, dependable, and shyly excellent. The macaron might pose elegantly in the window of a chic pâtisserie, but the flapjack’s in the kitchen making a proper cup of tea and getting on with things. Flapjacks are rich in buttery, caramel-ly goodness and have a surprising depth of…