2013 Episode 9 – French week - Semi-final

Last week: 'free' week and Lady Christine's departure, in spite of making an electric guitar cake mounted on a flashing plate. Ruby won Star Baker with her leaning shed of Somerset.

This week: La demi finale and FRRRRRENCH week. Mel presents in a husky French, which is definitely more than school girl (this is no surprise - she was excellent in Eurobeat).  Sue tackles 'dégeulasse' with comedy levels of gallic accent.

Blazer-watch: Hot pink for Mary, electric blue for Mel, a white tuxedo jacket for Sue. Paul's gone for the shiny black Burton shirt variation today – he's tucked in and ready to go.

Signature bake: Savoury canapés.  Three types, one choux, one pastry-based and the third is baker's choice, but there have to be twelve of each. The golden rule, if I remember from previous years, it that each canapé must fit in Paul's mouth.  He gets angry if he has to bite.

Frances is making a vegetable garden of canapés – no doubt smarting after shed-gate. Her Legume canapés will be made up of Chantenay Carrots, Choux Pastry Tomatoes and Cauliflower Cheese Scones. Basically, they'll look like vegetables, but will taste like cakes - FIVE A DAY PLEASE. Mary warns Frances off making rabbits to decorate the outside. Frances says she's definitely not going to make rabbits – no doubt because she thinks that's a shit idea, creatively-speaking. Paul reiterates “not style over substance” and Frances looks him dead in the eye. “I'm going to put the style ON the substance, Paul.” she asserts, with a confidence we've not seen in Frances before. Hollywood says nothing. He is clearly turned on.

Ruby is going for Beetroot Jelly on Poppy Seed Biscuits, Spinach, Parmesan and Quail's Egg Tartlets and Choux Buns with Goat's Cheese and Caramelised Onions. Mmmm hmmm. That's a party where I would want to make sure I was strategically placed (for example, by the kitchen door) to ensure maximum canapé consumption and tray presentation from the cater waiters.  Paul asks about Ruby's “little tart shells” and Mary smirks 'cause Paul just said “little tart” to Ruby.  Yes, it's come to this.

Kimberley's canapés are Pea Purée Tarts, Crab and Wasabi Profiteroles and Steamed Buns with Barbecue Chicken.  HELLO STEAMED BUNS WITH BARBECUE CHICKEN!  Sod strategic placement, that's a party where I would be literally following the trays around.  Kimberley then announces that she's using green tea powder (urgh, the waiter can take those party trays away), before explaining that it's just for colour and doesn't add much flavour. (“Waiters! Come back!”)

Finally, Beca is making Stilton and Walnut Macaroons, Beetroot and Salmon Choux Puffs and Welsh Rarebit Tartlets. There's a bit of passive-aggressive 'I say macaROOOOONS, you say macaRON, let's call the whole thing off' where Beca is team Roon and Paul is Team Ron, which culminates in Mel calling Beca 'Becaroon', which is an EXCELLENT nickname, regardless of how you pronounce it.

Animal shot #1: bleating sheepsies.

The bakers watch as Frances takes out her pastry 'carrots'. They look amazecarrots and Mel gushes that they look like 'strange talons' - in a good way.  Beca says that Frances “takes it to another completely different level. It goes to Planet Frances where nobody can hitch a ride to”.  Frances nervously whispers that she *thinks* that's a compliment and, in any case, “it's better to be a mentalist than boring”.

Beca is using local ale which is from a place which is basically F's and phlegm noises, which is near a place which is basically L's and phlegm noises, which is in West Wales.  Beca isn't sure what rarebit means, but thinks it's “an olde-worlde term for something thy spread on thy toasts, with cheese”, which is the best description I have ever heard of ANYTHING.  You know what, I'm off to Beca's party – it doesn't even matter what she serves, it would still be the dog's bollocks of drunken fun.

Penultimate signature bake judging ahoy...

Kimberley gets “ten out of ten for originality” and her canapés look “most tempting".  She even gets a Mary "mmmm". It's compliments galore from Berrywood: “beautiful”, “scrummy”, “crisp”, “lovely”, “ingenious”.  The only critique is that her buns were too big.   Oi oi!

Ruby's collection looks “so attractive” and “quite different” according to Mary. Paul thinks her tart shells (smirk) aren't quite full enough and Mary thinks there is a lack of seasoning. The other canapes aren't quite right in shape, but the taste is a big hit.

Beca's presentation “hasn't got the wow factor” and her canapés are deemed to “look boring”. Mary says she isn't finding the beetroot “memorable” and that's not quite good enough at this stage.  Ouch.  Even though Mary outs herself as Team MacaRooooooon and likes “the very clever idea”, there are concerns: Paul thinks the stilton should have been melted with a blowtorch.  He also says “everything is dominated by the ale” in the rarebit, and “I can't taste anything else”. Mary stays resolutely silent on that point.

Frances' canapés are beautifully arranged on green astroturf and really do look like a mini veg garden.  Mary says they look “stunning” and “your presentation is what we were looking for”.  Paul agrees: “fantastic”.  However, Frances' has overdone the paprika; meaning “you'd have to serve a lot of drinks at your party, because you're going to be very very thirsty”. (Sure, sure Mary, you'd be thirsty cause of the 'paprika'.)  On the other hand, Frances' cauliflowers are then deemed “lovely, lovely, lovely” by Paul. So lovely, lovely, lovely, in fact, that he leans over for a handshake, making it clear that this is the ultimate Hollywood accolade. It's probably the most pompous thing I've ever seen, and Newly Confident Frances laughs in Paul's face, taking the hand whilst pissing herself. She is chuffed though: “I got a Hollywood handshake!” snigger, snigger.

Beca's a bit frustrated because she didn't manage to “smack them with flavours between the eyes”.  Maybe she should be aiming for the tastebuds.

Animal shot #2: More bleating sheep. Sue then refers to Paul as having “un derrière comme une pêche”.  The two events are unconnected.

The Technical Challenge: A Charlotte Royal. Wah tha? Well, slices of swiss roll that form a dome around a set fruit custard, called a bavarois (which sounds to me like it might have come from the French for dribble-y king – indeed dribbling is the only appropriate way to react to a Charlotte Royal, I'd say).  Sue's only other clue is that “it looks like a brain”.

Ruby's face is the embodiment of “what the ACTUAL fuck”. She says she knows what it looks like as she's seen it in a book and thought 'that's the kind of thing I don't want to mess about with' so turned the page... “And now look what I'm doing.”  Kimberly thinks the challenge sounds like “fun, actually”. Of course she does.

Mary shows off her Charlotte.  It does look like a delicious brain, if you were constructing human insides in cake form.  Paul demands that Mary makes it for him next time he goes round to her house. Mary replies “we shall see”, which means 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, like YOU'RE ever coming over! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

The bakers have to make the jam, rolls and bavarois (“a delicate cream made with custard that's thickened with gelatine” - MMMMMMMMMMMMMETC) in the evening, then set it all overnight before finishing up the next day.

Ruby's forgotten to line her bowl, so she has to take out the swiss roll lining and repot her brain base, causing damage to the “frontal lobes”, so says Sue.  She's on the edge of tears and snot, but Sue nips it in the bud, by prodding her beautiful nose with an icing sugar dusted napkin, mum to toddler-style.  Mel asks her if she wants another slap.

It's the morning after, and Ruby decides her Charlotte “is not a looker” - we've all been there, love.  Her tactic is to disguise with décor – trouble is, the final stage involves applying glazed wallpaper paste to the Charlotte and plonking some strawberries on top, which has minimal disguising potential.

The judges are generally happy with the attempts – apart from Ruby's, which “has issues”. She comes last, with Beca in third and Frances in second. Mary says that the judges “couldn't find fault” with Kimberley's Charlotte, which is “perfection”. Blimmin' heck! Nice job that lady.

Show-stopper: Opera cake. Traditionally seven even layers of joconde sponge with buttercream, ganache, syrup and glaze – no wonder it inspires such loud and expressive singing in the larger-lunged lady.

“Ready, set BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!”

Ruby is making Chocolate, Almond Praline and Saffron Opera Cake. Her self-esteem is rock bottom, so Paul kindly helps her out by telling her that saffron is a stupid idea. Scurrilous gossip time, by the way - it turns out that Hollywood doesn't fancy Ruby after all. He's more a Kimberley man.

Frances' quest to pun through the medium of baking continues; she's producing a Great British Soap Opera Cake, which will look like a giant bar of old-fashioned soap. Fortunately, it will taste of white chocolate, lemon and, less fortunately, lavender. Unprompted, Frances performs a Frank Butcher impression and sings the Eastenders theme tune.  It's excellent work.

Beca's offering is a Banoffee Opera Cake.  HELL.  YUM.  Banoffee is one of my favourites, and this is banoffee with chocolate ganache: FEED ME IMMEDIATELY THIS IS AN ORDER NOT A REQUEST.  Doomsayer Paul's concerned about the lack of texture and flavours.  Beca attempts a defence, but uses the phrase “banana essence” - Mary's face is not a happy one. Mel comes over to cheer her up by singing all of Beca's ingredients. It's a beautiful strange duet.

Kimberley has opted for a Passion Fruit and Lime Opera Cake. She's baking in a flared denim mini skirt, which is somehow unexpected. She has a billion stages to do, including fashioning decorative truffles for the top, so it's going to be touch and go, even for Kimberley.  Mel calls it “uber-tasking”.

Foodistory: A French patissier, with an accent that is SO FRENCH it is almost unreal, tells us about the original Opera cake. Turns out it has the practical purpose of being stuffed with caffeine and sugar, so the opera guests didn't get their snore on during a performance – though how you can sleep though a fat lady in a viking helmet with enhanced lung capacity singing at the top of her voice is beyond me, FORTISSIMO! Mel has a go at writing 'opera' on the cake and it looks like when you write something in Microsoft Paint (i.e., child scribbles). The patissier proves that the accent WAS fake and he's not really French by kindly saying “it's fine, the most important question is you can read it. Job done” - a real French person would give you 3 out of 20 and criticise your accent. (I can say this, for I am half-French.)

Frances does beautiful writing, Beca's is a little more MS Paint.

Animal shot #3: More bleating sheep.  Yawn.  Let's move on...

Judging time.

Frances' presentation is praised; she's managed a shiny ganache, the layers are visible and the edges are sharp. The flavour is only “ok” and “could do with more sharpness”. Bit of a familiar chestnut there – but at least we didn't hear the S-words this time.

Kimberley's polka-dotted opera cake has “unusual decoration, sort of modern” which is deemed “very effective”. Will Paul be ready for Kimberley's lime jelly? Not really, as it's overwhelmed by the dark chocolate. Mary does like the “lovely textures” though.

Mel asks Ruby what opera her cake is and Ruby asks her to name a tragedy. It's true that the presentation isn't strong – one corner has collapsed (she's stuck some almonds on the corner, but it's not hiding nuffink) and the layers aren't sharp enough. However, Mary likes the praline and Paul acknowledges that the “saffron does come through”. The flavours are “very good”, but it doesn't have the finish Mary wanted to see.

Beca hopes the judges will love the flavour, but sadly they aren't convinced. Mary finds it “very sweet” and Paul thinks it tastes of “artificial banana” and “gravelly banana” (?!?).  Not a great outcome for our Welsh lovely.

Ma Baker: Kimberley! I think there would have been a one-woman riot if she hadn't got it.

And then it's time to announce who is off.  Ruby is shaking like a leaflet (just a little inside joke for all you Strictly Come Dancing diehards there) and is practically having a nervous breakdown, using all she has left to stop from sliding off her stool and collapsing into a heap of curl, mucus and salt water.  But it's ok, as...

Leaving: Oh Beca – so near and yet so far. Harsh, harsh stuff.  Too sad for a proper Mel and Sue sandwich even, as she hugs them one by one.  She's gutted and so are we – but it would take something pretty special to beat out a triple Star Baker at this stage.

Next time: The final! EEEEEK!  I'm calling it now: Ruby. No, Kimberley. No, Ruby. No, Kimberley. No, etc etc etc....