Crackle, Squidge, Repeat: Nottingham's Nuttiest Brownies, Tasted and Judged

Nottingham has quietly turned into a brownie city. Not in a shouty way — there are no neon signs or queues snaking round the block — but wander from the Lace Market up towards Mansfield Road on a Saturday and you'll pass four separate counters with a tray of something dark, dense and nutty sitting under a glass dome. Some of it is excellent. Some of it is a chocolate brick with three sad walnuts on top. This audit is here to tell the difference.

Over two weekends we bought brownies from bakery counters, market stalls and café till points across Nottingham — Hockley, Sherwood, West Bridgford, Sneinton Market, Beeston and a couple of spots in Carlton that deserve a mention. Everything was bought anonymously, eaten at room temperature, and scored on the same three things. No freebies, no favours.

How we scored them

Three categories, plus a value note.

Crackle is the top crust — that thin, papery shatter you get when the sugar and egg have done their job properly. A brownie with no crackle is really just a very flat cake.

Gooeyness is the centre. We're not after raw batter, and we're certainly not after the dry, crumbly squares that seem to breed in railway station kiosks. We want a fudgy middle that holds its shape for roughly four seconds after the bite.

Nut-to-cake ratio is exactly what it sounds like: how much of each mouthful is actually nut, rather than a sad scatter of chopped pieces on the surface doing decorative work for a nut-free interior. Generous and evenly distributed wins. A single Brazil nut sunk in the middle like a shipwreck does not.

Hazelnut praline: the headline act

Hazelnut praline is having a moment, and Nottingham is not immune. The best version we found was from a Hockley bakery counter — a swirled layer of praline through the middle rather than just on top, with a proper crackled lid and a centre that slumped obligingly when cut. The nut flavour was toasted rather than sweet, which matters. Cheap praline tastes of nothing but sugar and regret.

A close second came from a small café near the top of Mansfield Road, where the brownie was thinner, darker and noticeably saltier. Less goo, more chew, and a praline that tasted properly of hazelnut. If you like your brownies intense rather than pudgy, that's your pick.

One warning: several praline brownies we tried were overwhelmingly sweet, with the nuts ground so fine they disappeared into the sugar. If you can't tell there's a hazelnut in it without reading the label, the ratio has failed.

Walnut fudge: the quiet heavyweight

Walnut is the unfashionable one, and that's precisely why it works. A Sherwood café turned out the best of the bunch — dense, barely sweet, with walnuts in proper halves rather than dust, and a texture closer to fudge than cake. It was the only brownie in the whole audit that improved as it sat, getting chewier rather than staler.

West Bridgford, by contrast, gave us a walnut brownie that was perfectly pleasant and completely forgettable: soft crumb, light on nuts, and sweet enough to make a cup of tea taste like water. Not offensive. Just not worth the trip.

The lesson with walnut is simple. Walnuts are bitter and that bitterness is a feature, not a flaw. Bakers who try to smother it with extra sugar are solving a problem that doesn't exist.

Pistachio squares: the show-off

Pistachio is the expensive one, and it shows. The best pistachio bake we found was on a Sneinton Market stall — a proper square, almost blondie-adjacent, studded with roughly chopped pistachios and finished with a pinch of flaky salt. Green, salty, faintly marzipan-ish and genuinely worth the £4 asking price. It's less of a brownie and more of a related species, but we're counting it.

Two others were underbaked in a way that felt accidental rather than deliberate, and one had clearly used pistachio essence rather than nuts. If the green is uniform and the flavour is reminiscent of a 1980s dessert menu, walk on.

Market stalls versus café counters

This won't shock anyone who buys lunch regularly, but markets win on value. Brownies from stalls and pop-ups ran between £3 and £3.50, while café counters sat closer to £4 to £4.50. The most expensive wasn't the best. The best was mid-priced, wrapped in greaseproof, and sold by someone who could tell us exactly which nuts were in it — which, if you have an allergy in the group, is worth more than a nice plate.

What we'd buy again

The Hockley praline brownie, for the crackle. The Sherwood walnut fudge, for the chew. The Sneinton pistachio square, for the salt. Everything else was fine, and fine is the enemy of a good Saturday.

Practical notes before you buy

A few things worth knowing, learned the hard way.

• Ask about the nuts. Most counters were happy to talk through ingredients and cross-contamination. If they can't, assume the worst and keep moving.
• Reheat for ten seconds, not thirty. A short blast brings the centre back to life. Any longer and you've got a puddle.
• Freeze half. Brownies freeze well wrapped tightly, and a cold brownie eaten straight from the freezer is a legitimate pleasure in November.
• Judge the crackle before you buy. If the tray has been sitting in cling film all morning, the top will be soft. Ask what time they came out of the oven.

Nottingham's nutty brownie scene is in decent shape for 2026 — better than it was a few years ago, when the choice was chocolate or chocolate-with-extra-chocolate. The next step is for more bakers to be braver with the nuts themselves: more halves, fewer crumbs, less sugar doing the heavy lifting. Until then, the three above will do nicely.