2013 Episode 8 – ‘free’ week*

*as in 'gluten-free', 'wheat-free', 'dairy-free', or, in Frances' case 'decoration-free if you know what's good for you regardless of how unfair that might actually be

 

Last week: Ciao to Big Glenn, he of the over-sized cakes – good man.  Mary got over her Frances-hate for a few hours and gave her star baker.  This seems unlikely to last.

 

This week: an all-female quarter final, where the theme is baking things which aren’t allowed to include the things they should include and therefore have to include things that shouldn’t really be included anywhere near a cake.  I’m thinking of you, butternut squash.  (Not you, beetroot – you are AMAZING in a chocolate cake.  AMAZING.)

 

Ruby proclaims that she’s not going to slag her own bakes off to Berrywood.  We do not believe her.

 

Jacket watch: Mary’s in bright yellow, with a multi-coloured floral scarf, lest the eye-watering canary shade wasn’t statement enough.  Sue points out “there’s not a sniff of a Y-chromosome in the tent. And that includes you, Paul”.  Oddly, Paul doesn’t protest in the slightest.  I suspect he’s scared of Sue.

 

Signature bake: A loaf made with ‘unusual flour’; spelt, chestnut, rye, rice or grandfather grain.  I feel like ‘grandfather grain’ is an Only Connect-style red herring thrown in there to make fun of those of us who don’t know our unusual flours, but Sue makes a joke about it telling war stories, so I can only conclude it must be real.  And probably musty.

 

Everyone but Christine is using spelt.  Frances has plenty of spelt experience, as her friend Elle has “a slight wheat intolerance”, so they have oft made spelt hot cross buns and the like - this scores at least a nine on the Middle Class Scale, don’t you think?  She’s making a Chelsea Flour Show Bun Bouquet, which FLOORS ME (flours me) for pun fun.  Actual pun in bread title = winner.

 

Ruby describes spelt as “an ancestor of conventional wheat flour” but it’s hard to tell whether she thinks this is a good thing or a bad thing.  She’s making a Mango and Nigella Seed Spelt Cob and we are now at full 10 on the Middle Class Scale (the Food team at the Guardian are already having a crisis meeting to determine why this bread hasn’t previously been featured in the weekend magazine - Yotam Ottolenghi himself could get fired).  Ruby tells us that the Bake Off has improved her stress tolerance - it’s a wonder she was able to function before, frankly.

 

Beca is using mash to make a Potato, Spelt and Rosemary Focaccia.  Mash in bread – really?  No wonder those ‘unusual flours’ haven’t made it mainstream.

 

Christine’s Multi-seeded loaf with Pumpkin, Sesame and Sunflower Seeds is made of “completely gluten-free flour” formed of tapioca, rice and potato - this may seem like she’s going above and beyond, but it turns out it’s entirely acceptable just to whack your gluten-free dough in a blender and avoid all manual kneading.  Christine tells us that when she practised in the week, she wasn’t sure what the loaf was supposed to look like, “so I went up to see my baker at the local mill and asked him”.  (Middle Class Scale 11!!!!  Though, we’ve discussed this statement at work - at some length - and there is considerable support for the theory that, in reality, Christine went to her local Waitrose, picked up some gluten-free flour from the shelf and had a quick chat with the man in the Waitrose tabard behind the bread counter, who may or may not have been wearing a baker’s hat.)

  

Kimberley is spreading what looks like green pond scum over her dough, then whacking parma ham on top, which must be the worst sandwich filling ever.  Fortunately the pond mildew is actually pesto - for her Wild Garlic Pesto and Parma Ham Spelt Loaf.  There’s a brilliant interlude where Kimberley rolls up her dough, splits it in two, plaits it and rounds it into a tin whilst the other lady-bakers look on with mix of confused, nervous, mildly bitchy, and (in Ruby’s case) utterly vacant expressions.

 

Foodistory: A lady with regrettably wonky drawn-on eyebrows tells us how GB won the war by eating uniformly stale brown bread promoted as wartime viagra.  Another lady says “rough and course and hard” in a way that you might not expect in reference to bread.

 

Sue spells F-I-V-E-M-I-N-U-T-E-S (‘SPELT’ geddit?!?!) and Mel calls Kimberley’s loaf “a beautiful cabbage”.  Kimberley accepts that praise, even though she had been hoping it looked like a rose.  Mel is suitably embarrassed.

 

In the background Beca is singing some classic Diana Ross to her loaf, as it “comes out” the oven.  Christine joins in with some ‘du dah du dah-ing’ - her voice has not improved since she sang her delight at being Star Baker a few weeks ago.  Beca is delighted with her gay bread, welcoming it out of the closet/oven by saying ‘ello cheeky”.  Christine is having a far less gay old time of it, as her crust has stick to her tin.  Sue advises her to just balance it back on.

 

Judge Berrywood in da house.

 

It’s broken record time for Frances, as Paul says the “style is amazing, but it’s got to taste good.”  Mary thinks it is “full of flavour – great to tear and share”.  But it could have done with more proving.

 

Beca’s foccacia is deemed “pretty good” by Paul.  Mary translates that that means “BLOODY EXCELLENT”.  Paul adds that “it melts in your mouth”.  HELLO CHEEKY!

 

Having said she wouldn’t pre-empt the judging with cries of doom, Ruby immediately tells Paul and Mary “oh, it’s going to be so bad, it’s under-baked, it’s under-proved, it’s horrible”.  (Where’s Mel to administer that promised slap?)  For once, Ruby is right – well, to a degree.   It is under-baked and proved, but Paul still praises her technique and Mary thinks “it’s a winner for flavour”.

 

Mary likes Kimberley’s wet ham (ew), whilst Paul looks at Kimberley with ‘the eyes’ and she duly giggles.  He says “I actually love the flavours” but thinks the wholemeal, twisting, cutting and filling means “there’s nowhere to go” and it’s too dry inside.

 

Christine’s loaf is “a mess around the sides, but the bake looks pretty good”.  “Good” is the general consensus, in fact: “It’s a tricky thing to do, but it’s been done well”.   Christine is pleased, as she can now feed her gluten-intolerant friends a homemade loaf.  “It will save me touring the supermarket for them” she says in a way that heavily implies she is gluten-intolerant-intolerant.  But really - how big is an Oxfordshire village Waitrose really going to be?

 

No animals, but we do get Union Jack Bunting shot. 

 

The Technical Challenge: A gluten-free hazelnut dacquoise.  Layers of nut meringue and rich cream with hazelnuts in and some chocolate ganache swirls and praline on top.  TAKE ME STRAIGHT TO THE DACQUOISE FACTORY, DRIVER!

 

Although the instructions are typically limited, Beca decides to ignore the instructions she has got, and make the ganache before the custard.  Bye bye cheeky – surely that’s a suicide mission.

 

Some other stuff is then shown, but now we’re down to the last five, so there’s far less “ARRRRGH NIGHTMARE I DROPPED THE ENTIRE THING AND SOMEONE’S NICKED MY CUSTARD” and lots more techie advice about how to actually and properly make the cake in question, which... well, it’s beyond me, really.  If you want more details about how to bake stuff, this blog is probably not the best port of call - though I’ll happily act as cake taster.

 

The judges are rather impressed by the Technical Attempts, although there’s disappointment at sloppy custard and thin meringue.  You won’t be surprised to hear that Beca’s ganache/custard swap was not a success - she’s second from bottom, after Christine in last.  France is third, Kimberley second and Ruby first.  She wears her usual expression of confused beautiful disbelief.

 

Show-stopper: A 3D vegetable dairy-free novelty cake.  Surely there has never been a more ridiculous challenge – it's novelty, it contains vegetables and has no butter, cream or milk. HUH?  For the shape, Sue suggests “a shoe, a cat or a pair of Paul Hollywood’s Budgie Smugglers” – good thing Glenn isn’t there, as he’d struggle to make such a tiny cake BOOM BOOM!

 

Christine is making a 3D sweet potato cake in the form of an electric guitar.  OF COURSE SHE IS.  More specifically, it’s a Sweet Potato Guitar with Passion Fruit Icing and Marshmallow Fondant.  Paul and Mary ask some boring questions about how she’s making and baking the cake, before Mel interrupts to get to the nub of the matter: which rock guitarist is the inspiration?  Mel begins to list “Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, Brian May, Jimmy Hendrix…” and Christine butts in with utter conviction “Brian May. Everytime.”  Who’d have thought Christine liked a man with larger hair?  Paul claims to be a Jimmy Page man, but I think he secretly likes Brian May best too. 

 

Beca is making a cake in the shape of wooden board with a massive chunk of cake Emmental on top.  I’m not sure that’s the best plan – I suspect I’d be disappointed that a cheese board cake wasn’t actually a cheese board full of, well, CHEESE.  Beca hasn’t actually practiced her Spiced Butternut Squash and Pecan ‘Cheese’ Cake, which seems unwise, but she’s utterly breezy about it.

 

Having previously used bread to stop war in the world’s best known conflict regions, Kimberley has now turned to dealing with sibling rivalry through baking: “this toadstool cake is the cake that my mum made for my brother when he was little and I remember being quite small and fascinated by it” (for ‘fascinated’ read ‘incredibly jealous’) “and I thought it would be quite a nice little kind of tribute” (for ‘tribute’ read ‘in your FACE mum and bro’).  Her Butternut Squash and Spice Cake Toadstool House is flavoured with maple syrup and non-dairy buttercream.  Something about toadstool houses really freaks me out.

 

Hairstyle watch: Kimberley’s hair is smaller this week; confined to under her scarf.  Perhaps she heard about Christine’s big hair fetish.

 

Ruby is making a Carrot Cake and Pistachio Garden Plot, which is in the shape of an allotment, complete with shed and veg patch.  She’s not made such a big cake or ever really done much cake decorating – so I can only guess at how unutterably crap she’ll think it is at the end.

 

It takes Frances a good five minutes to list all the things she’s making as décor for her Hidden Carrot Cake in the shape of a horticultural garden – pots, plants, bulbs, soil, etc, etc, etc etc.  What *is* cool is that when you cut into the cakey ‘soil’, which is brown-coloured sponge, you get cakey ‘carrots’ which are orange-coloured sponge.  Less cool is Mary bitching to Paul that “I just hope she doesn’t spend too much time on…” YES WE GET IT MARY, SHE MUSTN’T CONCENTRATE ON THE DÉCOR BITS, SHE MUST CONCENTRATE ON THE CAKE ITSELF.  STYLE OVER SUBSTANCE, YADDA YADDA SHEESH!

 

Ruby is admitting that she’s a bit of a mucky pup in the kitchen, as the camera pans down to show a fine layer of icing sugar covering every one of her implements, and right on cue, a piece of her blender breaks off.  She’s so embarrassed she can hardly breathe, which seems a slight overreaction in the circumstances - shit happens Ruby!  It's not like you purposefully broke it or nicked Howard's custard (the embarrassment benchmark in Bake Off). 

 

Beca’s using ready-made fondant icing for her cheese and modeling paste for the mice she’s putting on her cheeseboard, like edible playdough.   Christine is making her own fondant icing, which involves a cloud of icing sugar permanently hovering above her work surface.  Sue arrives to pretend she’s in a Kate Bush video, minus the leotard.

 

Elsewhere Frances has made a microwave oven smoke and burnt some chocolate.  Whilst such a feat would probably make Ruby pass out with humiliation, Frances smirks guiltily and admits the burnt pieces probably won’t make the final cut. 

 

Beca’s also having a good time of it - despite having never made her cake before.  She admits that she thrives “massively” in a competitive environment.  Remind me to never play hockey with Beca.  Also, remind me to never play hockey.

 

Last minute décor prep.  Christine: “oh, me little knobs fallen out”.  No need for a Perkins eyebrow raise, even.

 

Sue blows the metaphorical time’s up whistle and Ruby looks crestfallen: “Oh Frances, what have you done?” she asks.  “I’ve gone crazy” replies Frances.  But it turns out that Frances has gone crazy with AMAZING decorating skills and Ruby is super supportively impressed.  It’s a touching moment.  They co-compliment, which leads Ruby to lament that her cake has “a lopsided shed” which “is going to fall over”.  I’ll be honest – this is a fair assessment.  The shed is at quite an angle.  If it were James Shetland, he’d claim that this was entirely what he was attempting in the first place, and it was just supposed to be windswept – as all Shetland sheds are.  (I’ve been there and that could well be true.)

 

Crunch time.

 

Paul thinks Kimberley’s toadstool “looks great” and Mary says that the cake is “quite close-textured” (Kimberley looks confused and unconvinced) “but it’s a good flavour”.  She doesn’t find it sweet enough though.  Paul however thinks it’s been “executed perfectly”.

 

Over to Frances’ magnificent-looking super-groomed lady garden, which Mary IMMEDIATELY slags because she’s not made some of the pots from scratch.  Paul slices open the turf to see the ‘carrot’ sponge inside.  Mel is well impressed.  Mary is resolutely silent.  Paul says that the inside is dry and the outside is dense and thinks “your mouth would seize up if you had more than a thimble-full.  It’s too bitter.”  He then deals the death blow: “style and substance may have come into play again”.  ARGH!  Frances, my love, just slop down a décor free slab and call it a breezeblock.  They’ll find it delicious, I guarantee.

 

Ruby admits that she’s never done decorating before, so, for her, it’s a personal best.  And I’m delighted to hear such positivity from Ruby (forrealz), but… well, it is a rustic creation.  Mary, however, decides to rave about it; she’s never seen a caramel roof before and “that’s what we’re always looking for, something original”.  As you’d expect with Ruby, the flavour is great.  Mary likes “the excess of pistachio nuts”.

 

Beca’s cheeseboard looks awesome; like a cartoon cheese, with cartoon mice feasting on it.  One mouse has even got totally pissed on Emmental and has fallen over – the cheese dreams he’ll have tonight – pheweeeeeeeeeeeee!  Paul finds it “simple but effective” but warns that the cake therefore has to “taste fantastic”. Sadly, Mary doesn’t think that the cake has much flavour and Paul doesn’t think it has ANY flavour. Ouch!  He even says “I’m not convinced you weighed everything up properly” before going on, at some length, about the blandness.  Mary channels Miranda’s mum by saying “it looks such fun” but calls the taste “really rather sad”.  It’s harsh, man.

 

Christine thinks her cakes came out superbly and, frankly, the whole thing looks exactly as you would expect a peach-coloured electric guitar made of cake to look, namely AWESOME.  The judges agree that the outside, including her marshmellow fondant icing, is “beautiful”, but what of the taste?  “Too bland.”

 

Clearly that was a tough judging sesh and we see our bakers in a group hug, toughing it out.   Beca says it was "brutal".  Back in the tent, Mel and Sue tell Berrywood off a bit for being so mean.  Paul points out that they did praise “where praise was needed”, but “were critical where criticism had to be placed" and defend their criticism of Frances, especially.  This serious conversation is carried out in front of table containing a giant cheese, two miniature gardens, a giant toadstool and a peach electric guitar mounted on a board with flashing lights (“boogie sponge-a-land” as Mel calls it).  All made of cake.  It’s special.

 

Ma Baker: It was between Ruby and Kimberley, and Ruby nipped it – wonky shed victory!

 

Leaving: Christine – tears all round.  It was mighty close and Frances is red-faced in her relief and grief.  Relgrief.  Christine says “it’s the best thing I’ve ever done in my life by a mile....  And I haven’t had a boring life.”  We can only imagine.

Next time: Semi-final time and it’s Frrrrrrrrrrrrrrench week.  Mel’s Rs are gettin’ ROLLED.  Aiiii.