2013 Episode 3 – Dessert Week

Last week: Bready byes to horticulturalist Lucy.  Bringing in her own her own yeast (mutated from an apple in her garden) wasn’t enough to sex up Lucy’s loaf and she failed to heed Berrywood’s warnings that taking four hours to plonk six tomatoes on a round bread ball wasn’t going to be enough to Stop the Show. Ruby robbed Kimberley of Star Baker Success by baking about as well, but appearing WAY more stressed.  Rob produced a bread octopus.

This week: Desserts

Signature bake: Trifle; defined layers of sponge, biscuit, fruit, custard, peas, beef, onions, jelly. But really, it’s all about the lady fingers.

After a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shot of Ali dressed as a poker-playing rapper at home with his entourage, middle-class comfort is restored as we cut back to the tent and see he’s wearing hipster NHS specs and some red James Shetland knitwear.  We also notice that Ali is, errr, rather attractive – something which had entirely passed me by until now.  Having never made bread before Bread Week, Ali, we learn, has no previous trifle experience either, so he’s topping his Coconut, Raspberry and Lemon Meringue Trifle with macaroons, which he apparently has made in the past.  It seems unlikely that will be enough to trick the judges in a TRIFLE challenge, but let’s admire his resolve.  And he’s hot, remember.

Teacher Glenn’s ‘At Home VT’ once again features Mr Glenn and also introduces their adorable doggie, trained to high-five for cake scraps.  Back in the tent, we are not surprised to learn that Glenn is not one for a traditional lady finger.  He’s piping out spirals instead for a Raspberry and Almond Trifle, which he’s pretending he’s not nicked from Mary Berry. 

Deborah Dentist is just eschewing lady fingers altogether, with lemon swiss rolls at the bottom of her Tropical Trifle.  Deborah’s using her own curd, and as I don’t really know what curd is, the notion of using your own curd to do anything repulses me, frankly.  Deborah tells the judges that she’s going to spray Cointreau on to her sponge and pops out a spray can filled with alcohol.  Everyone has a go on the aerosol, directly spraying liquor to throat, communal glue sniffing-style.  (Mel has several sprays.  No sign of Sue, who I’m assuming has already passed out behind Deborah’s kitchen station.) 

In other booze news, Christine is producing a Caribbean Pina Colada Trifle, so yet more excellent eighties throwback action.  Loving your work Christine.

Ruby’s Desert Island Trifle (a tropical concoction of rum, cardamom, bananas, strawbs and mango) will have sponge palm trees stuck against the sides.   Well, that’s the plan - she’s failed to practice on account of having Philosophy degree exams to take.  She hasn’t had time to Fabreeze her granddad cardie either, but – frankly – is too beautiful for it to matter.  Ruby could wear rags and look good.  She could wear bin bags and look good.  She could wear Mary’s neon lime jacket and... actually, no, only Bezza can 'get away' with that one.

There’s a Ginger Zone forming at the back of the tent.  Beca is making an Orange and Ginger Trifle, Kimberley is opting for a Peach, Almond and Ginger Trifle, and Mark is the gingery-est of all, with three types of ginger in his Ginger, Mango and Passion Fruit Trifle.  Beca seems pretty peeved that she’s not alone in picking the VERY COMMON BAKING FLAVOUR that is ginger, but maybe it is an unusual and dangerously exotic choice in the valleys.

Mel tells us that some bakers are opting for jelly, others for jam, which must be particularly confusing for American viewers.  Howard, making a Caramel and Apple trifle, is curling his lip at jelly, whilst Beca is insisting it’s not a real trifle without it.  Beca pulls rank by informing viewers that she was brought up on trifle, because it’s officially eaten at every dinner in West Wales after a roast for mains.  (I totally believe her.)  Howard’s authority is not helped by a shot of him running around a tower block; demonstrating a unique style of movement whilst claiming to be a “keen jogger”. 

We barely have to time to recover from Howard’s exertions before we’re treated to more active footage – this time of Kimberley salsa dancing.  Kimberley demonstrates a salsa step which involves bowing whilst making train wheel motions on each side and pushing the hem of your top down, which is not a move my Zumba teacher has taught me yet.  Back in the kitchen, Kimberley puts all her salsa flirtation into practice and seduces Sue by feeding her honeycomb.

Apart from Glenn, who thinks he’s scrambled his custardy eggs and Mark, who can’t fit square cake into a round bowl (no worries Mark, toddlers have the same trouble), it all seems to be going quite well at this stage.  Which signals certain disaster must be around the corner.  We’re then treated to a sequence in which Mary loudly praises Howard for making his custard from pure egg yolk and no cornflower, with multiple reiterations of “HOWARD’S NOT USING CORNFLOWER” and “HOWARD IS THE BRAVEST ONE HERE”.  

OH THAT’S NOT OMINOUS, AT ALL IS IT? NOT AT ALL. OHHH NO.

Except, of course, it is.  Massively.

Welcome to CUSTARDGATE.

1. Howard innocently wonders where he has left his custard.
2. Deborah Dentist looks like she’s having a breathless panic attack and is hyperventilating.  Her over-plucked eyebrows have disappeared under her sparsely high cut fringe. 
3. Sue asks Deborah if she’s ok.
4. She immediately folds and confesses to custard theft – she picked the wrong bowl from the fridge and used Howard’s custard instead of her own.  She looks MORTIFIED.
5. On hearing Deborah’s confession, Howard chuckles away in the background – last week Sue elbowed his muffin and that was a good omen, so a nicked custard has got to be a GREAT sign.
6. Deborah manages not to cry and spends the rest of the episode looking harassed and rushing around like a headless chicken, desperately getting Howard any ingredients or tools he says he needs to complete his bakes.
7. Howard continues to chuckle in the background, making up mythological utensils for Deborah to bring him, clearly having a whale of a time.

Bring forth the judges!

Ruby’s palm trees have worked and she’s commended for her coconut flavour.  Glenn’s made another giant dessert which makes terrifying suction noises, but there’s praise for his crème pat and the soaking of his sponge.  Kimberley’s trifle has “very good” layers.  The custard layer of Rob’s Rhubarb and Orange Trifle is “rather thick” (which Mary says like it’s a bad thing - WAAH?!) and his rhubarb has been overpowered.  The layers in Mark’s trifle don’t really meld and his custard isn’t great.  Frances, who didn’t really feature til now, has made an Apple and Blackberry Crumble (and gets my first craving points) but the judges think it’s “over-decorated”.  Beca has “lovely” jelly, but “slack” custard.  Paul struggles to diss Ali’s offering (it’s over-filled, tis all) and Christine gets the best praise of all – a simple “superb”.  Deborah was right to steal Howard’s custard, which the judges like very much.  His trifle, however, has layer issues, probably not helped by Deborah’s custard, which was too liquid – Mary told-you-sos her that cornflower is the problem there.

Foodistory: Erm. Trifles used to be posh but now they’re common and Mel eats a jellied calf foot WITHOUT GAGGING.  (Can you tell I basically pay no attention to these bits?)

The Technical Challenge: Iles Flottantes (‘floating islands’). Little tiny poached meringues in a sea of crème anglaise, topped with spun sugar. 

As usual, the instructions are limited and the bakers all have a general mare working out how to, well, do any of it – whether successfully meringuing their eggs, creating a sufficiently stiff meringue, spooning out the right size iles in the right shape - known as “quenelling” (*makes Scrabble note*), poaching the lot in hot milk, using the leftover milk and cream scraps to make crème anglaise (seriously) or trying to successfully spin sugar by flicking it over a wooden spoon.  Surprise, surprise Ali’s never made this dessert before – but he has both SEEN and EATEN it.  Wowsers.

Judging by Mary’s demo, Iles Flottantes should look like mozzarella balls in watery-milk juice with some crispy orange bath plug hair sprinkled over the top – but in a delicious sweet way.  Howard has under-poached and his iles look like cottage cheese balls.  He decides his meringues are insufficiently stiff and will start again.  Elsewhere, Glenn is making spun sugar using the “Wiggling between two dangly things technique” whilst Ali notices that Beca has “quite big ones", innocently ploughing on to then refer to her "big quenelles”.  We all die snarffing.

The blind judging puts Mark last, just below Beca’s big ones.  Deborah is ninth (her sauce was too gluey), behind Frances, who’s behind Howard, who’s behind Kimberley.  At the higher end, Ali is fifth, Christine and Ruby take four and three, with Glenn just sneaking ahead of Rob.  Glenn is chuffed to bits – and so he should be!  Rob does his fleeting micro smile again, so is also clearly delighted and dancing on the inside.  It's ok Rob, you can bust out a celebratory twerk if you want to!

Show-stopper: Twenty-four Petits Fours. Twelve biscuit-base and twelve sponge-based.  All bitesized. Three hours.  Go!

Glenn’s worrying that his tendency to Go Big is going to thwart him.  He’s making Billionaire Bouchées and Orange Financiers, which involves kumquat (meh) and nutty butter (HELLO).

Christine is producing Sachertorte Parcels and something she’s calling “Christine’s Ninety Niners”, which is only thirty away from the rudest bake ever.  She’s also using a pointy wooden cone-making tool her husband made her.  Let’s not dwell.  (But good on ‘em!)

Ruby’s making Lemon Shortbread and White Chocolate Seashells and Blackberry and Chocolate Layer Cakes.  Paul and Mary quiz her on her presentation plans; she’s going to wing it. (Those blighted Philosophy mods!  Do UCL not realise that she has bakes to prep!)

Frances’ ‘Ballet Bites’ Ginger Nutcrackers and Sugar Plum Fairy Cakes are inspired by the Tchaikovsky ballet – she’s going to present them on a cake stand with a vinyl record as the top layer.  NICE.

Howard’s also going concept, with an après-dinner theme: Black Coffee and Cardamom Cake and White Stilton and Pear Biscuits.  DOUBLE NICE.

We cut to Mark pouring the nation’s recommended monthly sugar intake into a bowl whilst whistling.  He’s opted for Rose and Pistachio Macaroons and Chocolate and Raspberry Bites.  Paul quizzes him on his chilling and resting plans – that’s in terms of his bake, not in general.  Mark replies confidently that a half hour rest will be fine.  Paul gives him the stare, so we all know how that’s going to go.

Beca has made extra petits petits fours to go atop her petit fours and shows off PERFECT mini macaroons  (like teeny purple burgers) which will sit on her Limocello and Blueberry Bursts, which will accompany some Millionaire Shortbread.

Over on the other side, karma’s turned up to act like the bitch she is.  Deborah’s Canelé Cherry and Chocolate Cakes aren’t coming out of the mould and her stress levels, already high, are in need of some serious Mel’n’Sue soothing.  Sue saunters over as Deborah begins some Beautiful Mind style murmurings about needing a “narrow cutter”.  “WHAT KIND OF CUTTER?” Sue unhelpfully booms, before accusing of Deborah stealing from Howard again and suggesting Howard set up some barbed wire around his kitchen.  I can imagine Brendan watching at home, thinking ‘I wish I’d had that idea’ and ‘I both loathe and love you Sue’.

Mark is also having a crapper – his bakes have overinflated and instead of macaroons, he’s produced a tray of comedy rubber boobs.  There’s no disguising that, he tells Sue.  She heartily agrees.  Where’s Mel Good Cop!?!?!

Who knows – let’s let the dramatic orchestral music play as we all enjoy a ‘last minute touches’ montage.  Rob finally makes an appearance, brow fuddled with intense concentration, but we’ll have to wait for judging to know what he’s made.  And so....

To the judge-mobile!

Glenn had trouble with his gold leaf, which stuck to his fingers rather than his petits fours.  Paul tells him off for making a petit four which is TOO SMALL. (!!!!!!!)  Mary says “it’s not a brilliant shortbread”, but Paul “loves it”.

Mary thinks Christine's cones look “tempting” and are “scrummy” and sounds of “mmmmm” ring out from everyone, Paul included.

Up comes Mark and Paul is delighted to inform him that he should have rested his macaroons for more than twenty minutes.  Berrywood like the flavour, but think the macaroons “look hideous”.  As for his bites, Paul says he’d have sent them back to the kitchen and asked for the chef – I’m assuming that’s not a good thing.

Ali has just made a shortbread biscuit with decoration on top, thinks Mary.  Paul finds the offering too sweet.

Kimberley is informed by Mary that she’s produced “a very good chocolate cake – not improved by the topping.”  Ooooh, BURN.  (Erm - not literally.)  But she does get flavour praise.

Rob, we discover, has made Almond Friands and Turon Macaroons, which look “remarkably professional”.  Paul adds that they are “delicious” using that husky guttural throat voice he reserves for extra excellent work and seducing younger, glamorous co-workers unaware of his wife.

Howard is worried that the pear circles on top of his cheesy bics look like onion rings, but it’s the limited cheese that Mary’s displeased by.

Again Frances scores well on presentation and this time her flavour also gets complimented!

Ruby looks ever-worried, but Paul says “that’s lovely” and Mary tells her “that’s a bit of all right”, which is my favourite Bezza feedback of all time.  Turns out winging it isn’t the greatest sin known to bakerkind.

Up comes Deborah – who has had, let’s face it, pretty much the worst week to date – theft or no theft.  She looks utterly miserable.  Mary kindly responds with a death glare and Paul calls her offering “a bit of a mess”.  Mary then adds that her scarlet Rose Cookies are “too bright”, which is an AMAZING comment from a woman in a fluorescent jacket (honestly, my Twitter timeline went into meltdown).  To perk Deborah up (by which I mean ‘kick whilst she’s down’) Paul says her cookies are “bone dry”.  They’re slightly nicer about the taste of her chocolates “if you don’t look at them too closely”.

By contrast Beca gets showered with praise for the look of her petit fours and her “weenie macaroons”, which are “technically perfect”.  The judges love the flavours too.  Beca is well chuffed.  Deborah looks on the brink of collapse.

Just some time for Sue and Mel to gather in the judges’ backstage tent area, take a throwaway comment from Mary and turn it into in some grade A gossip about Paul and Bezza getting it ORN, before it’s time for the bakers to squeeze onto a line of stools, shoulders a-barging, and hear their fate.

Ma baker: Christine!  Pina Colada Success.  Mary does lurve the booze.

Mel and Sue sandwich: Mark and Deborah are both leaving this week – it’s no real surprise, and at least it wasn’t down to theft, but rather to cruddy baking.  Am sure that will be a soothing balm of relief.

Pun watch: A classic week for innuendo (“Let’s get those lady fingers soggy”) and the pun of all puns from la Perkins: “SHOULD DEBORAH BE TAKEN INTO CUSTARDY?”  I know I shouldn’t have laughed, but come on!  Even better though was Mary response: “You are a fool” and then a grudging “well done”.

Missed pun-portunity: After the ‘custardy’ thing?  Are you kidding me?!  Nah, they got them all in this week – no question.

Next time: Pie aye. Soggy bottoms ahoy!