2014 Episode 10 - The Final

Last week: Chetna stumbled at the final hurdle and Richard's fifth Star Baker turn guaranteed him a Series Victory. I mean surely. Right?

This week: THE FINAL. Mel and Sue have got into a boat in a swamp to blow the starting whistle. It is unclear a) how they got there and b) whether they can be rescued.

Sue reminds us that thousands applied, but only twelve were selected “to bare their baking souls at the gingham altar”.  Or a binful of Melted Alaska in Iain's case. We’re reminded of some other key dishes along the way: Claire’s Explosive Diarrhoea Cupcakes and Norman’s Lavender Meringue stand out.  (Why Norman WHYYYYY?)

The three finalists big each other up. Richard has his baking stars, Luis is the design don, and Nancy is the one whose bakes the others eat first – now that’s telling... Fairly or unfairly, Richard is being set up as the favourite, Luis as the competitive one and Nancy the underdog.

Bakers ready, kitchen stations ready, HERE. WE. GOOOOO....

Blazer watch: Nothing is going to beat the pink stork bomber, so Mary has decided to recycle an old fave for the Final - fuchsia roses on a white blazer: a Laura Ashley curtain dream.  Paul is just wearing another one of his many, many, MANY shiny grey shirts. 

In the name of science, I’ve done a compare and contrast between weeks 1 and 10, to check Mel and Sue's chub levels, and they might have all been slightly sharper of chin at the start, but in all honesty, given the amount of sugar they’ve mainlined, it’s looking preeeeeetty good.

A note also, on Nancy's eyelashes – I'm guessing the Girls Aloud eyelash range ('the Nadine' brand).

The Signature bake: Two different types of Viennoiserie.

Croissants, pains au chocolat, Danish pastries and the like.

Paul starts banging on about lamination again. I still don’t have a clue what it is.

Nancy is going for Apple and Lemon Kites & Raspberry and Almond Croissants and is going to use something called raspberry powder, which SURELY Mary can't be on board with. Nancy says she only makes croissants at Christmas because “at other times of year, they don't get eaten”. THIS LITERALLY DOES NOT COMPUTE.  WHAAAA?!? Croissants not getting eaten? This is just a straightforward impossibility, from which I will struggle to move on.

Luis is making Apple, Walnut, Raisin & Cheshire Cheese Chaussons and Pain au Chocolat Blanc with Raspberries & Cream Cheese. He gets mocked for his Franglais term “Pain au White Chocolate” - that may be embarrassing but it's also wise, as it means no-one thinks to have a pop at him for essentially sticking a Milky Bar, some fruit and some cheese into an already perfect breakfast pastry.

Richard is also mocked for his French, particularly for his pronunciation of the 'pain au lait' part of his Pear Pain au Chocolat and Pain au Lait bakes (in his defence, that whole thing's a mouthful - wahay pun time). He grins that “I speak French a bit London”. He wanted to make pain au lait as he loved it as a kid. Paul tells him that it's probably too simple and they will need to be “absolute perfection”. OH LET ME GUESS HOW THIS WILL GO.

Nancy wants an extra half-hour of kneading time to compensate for her weedy lady-muscles. Frankly, I would fancy her chances in a punch-up – she's nails, is Nancy. (And has excellent nails to boot.)

Someone FINALLY explains lamination - and it's Luis, so he should TOTES win (and just because I've got him in the sweepstake etc etc). It's all about folding pastry and going “dough, butter, dough, butter”. There you go – clear as a laminated bun.

“Richard thinks he's found a shortcut” announces Mel. Ohhhhhkaaaaaay. First too simple, now too complicated to make in the time... Well, it's becoming wide-open, folks. So much for the five stars – we know the drill and anything can happen now.

Paul explains that Richard's shortcut will make things “too bready”. I'm not sure how this is a bad thing, but it's clear from the Hollywood tone that this is not the done thing.

Nancy is using frozen fruit pellets to fill her viennoiserie, whilst explaining that fruit is too wet for the pastry and, I dunno, something something something. Anyway, cut to Luis using – yes, fruit, whilst the tinkly music of doom plays: “I hope I don't have a disaster” he chuckles. Oh boys, I think we've all underestimated the power of Nancy and her perfect chignon.

Dramatic montage #1: Waiting for the prove, as the rain absolutely pisses it down outside. They're going to have to towel the grass to get it dry for the assembled guest bottoms tomorrow.

Dramatic montage #2: Out of oven and decor time – Luis anxiously bobs up and down with one white oven glove on. He's like the Spanish-Stockportian Michael Jackson.

Signature Berrywood verdict: Luis' pain au white chocolate are both “uniform” and “some are baked more than others” (it's been a long series, Mary, I imagine you're tired). Paul spots a soaking raspberry (Nancy presumably feels smug about her pellets) and doesn't like the cheese in the taste either. At least the others have a “nice bit of flake” and are “a winner”.

Nancy has “nearly got” the prove with her croissant. Although they are “a bit doughy”, “the raspberry is delicious”- pellets for the win! The kites should have been thicker, but “top marks for flavouring”.

Richard's pain au lait had to be “ABSOLUTELY UTTERLY ENTIRELY UNQUESTIONABLY  COMPLETELY TOTALLY PERFECT” remember – and... well they were touching in the oven, so have had to be gently ripped apart. “This is not a batch bake” says Paul, sternly, before going on (and on) about being really quite "upset" about it.  Though it's still got “great bake and texture”. Paul deems the others “a buttery roll” and it's a “shame” there are no textures.  Hmmm.

The Technical Challenge: Twelve mini Victoria sandwiches, twelve mini tartes au citron, twelve scones.

A controversial challenge, as some hated this one - but I thought it was a brilliant plan. Back to basics and back to blind panic, expect for Nancy, of course.  This was tailor-made for Nancy.

At least they have been given instructions, which Richard kindly reads out: “Make twelve Victoria sandwiches, make twelve tartes au citron, make twelve scones”.  Great!

Mary and Paul huddle backstage with their rider of artisanal bread and sherry and enjoy a crony-like bitching session about the prospects. “We're asking for sheer perfection” says Mary “that's all”. Even Paul thinks that's a little bit of a high bar, but when Mary has that look in her eye, you do not argue.

Nancy is just on this Technical Challenge; indeed, to quote Mel, "she's on it, like Jane Austen bonnet". Whilst the boys sound nervous, Nancy has steel in her voice - I strongly suspect this is not her first emergency speed bake rodeo. For starters, she has task prioritisation down-pat; she knows how long to chill pastry for and reveals an anti-curdle trick like it's standard info. As if that weren't enough, the whole thing is clinched by the way she throws away the line "I make all my own jam, anyway". You can tell Richard and Luis sometimes, just sometimes, eat Tesco's own brand raspberry.

Richard announces he is "just bashing his butter." That's BUTTER, everyone.  

It's time to get the Vicky sponges out.  Richard sticks his thermometer into his batch and assesses that they are done.  Nancy just takes hers out the oven after a quick throwaway peek, cause she knows... she just knows...  

On the custard tart front, Luis is having to jigsaw his pastry into the cases and press.  Oh Luis.  That is not "sheer perfection"!

Richard's over-egged his pudding - one egg was for glazing, but he chucked it into the mix.  Gah!  Eggwashgate #2.  He decides to start again.  But TIME, Richard, WHAT ABOUT TIME?!  It's really tense!

Even unflappable Luis is getting unusually flapped. Fortunately Mel arrives to do some well-placed back patting and to point out that he left a piece of rice in one of his pastry cases.

Richard announces he has never made tarte au citron before. !!! Well that's the title gone, then. Sheesh. At least he still has a plan: He's just going to chuck the custard mix into some pastry and hope for the best in the oven.  Grrrrreat.

Dramatic montage #3: Jamming the scones and writing 'citron' on the tarts.  Or "colon" in someone's case.

And they are done.  I fear we are some way from "sheer perfection", especially on the lemon tarts.  Over to Berrywood...

Luis' tarts don't have any piping on them and Nancy and Richard haven't piped the cream into her sponges. Mary frowns and decrees: "when you're trying to impress, you pipe" - another Mary Berry life-lesson there.  One to apply to all walks of life, I'm sure.

Turns out Richard's plan didn't really come off - he has made tarte au scrambled egg.

Tecchie Rankings: Richard comes last, Luis is AMAZED to avoid bottom, Nancy storms it and comes a clear first.  Twas always going to be thus.

Animal shots: Nope. It's bunting in the breeze time.  We can smell the impending tea party.. 

Berrywood dissect the current standings with Mel and Sue. They stress how they "don't look back" and judge the final on the three challenges of the weekend. I know that's the score, but I suspect I'm not alone in thinking that's slightly unfair when there's a series title in play and someone has won Star Baker five times. No?  

The Show-stopper: A pièce montée.

Sue explains this is an enormous and elaborate pastry centrepiece usually consisting of cake, sugar work, choux and petit fours.  I'm hoping that's not choux in the 'cabbages' sense.

Mel's brillz abbrevs-ing skills: "It's got to taste increds".

"I think of the ones I've seen in 18th and 19th century pictures" says Mary. 'Pictures'.  Ok Mary. *winks*

Richard's pièce montée is based on where he's from, which is Mill Hill. There's talk of a hill and a windmill, but technically it should look like a little black blunted-ended tadpole which tangents off the Northern line and leads to a mythical land akin to Narnia (I assume, it's not like anyone's actually been there). 

He's Mill on the Hill will contain (*deep breath*) almond sponge and raspberry jam, ginger sponge and lemon and lime curd, a croque-en-bouche with orange custard drizzled in an elderflower liqueur, white chocolate ganache, an almond brittle wall, iced green grass and meringue mushrooms.  Show... stopped.  Richard's back in the game!

Nosy home life bit: HOORAY!  I've really missed the snoopping into the bakers' private lives.  Richard was a child with glasses and no pencil behind his ear -  how things change. Mrs Richard, a redhead, gets the welling up started by saying how proud she is, before  Richard 'sweetens' the mood even further by telling us he is using lots of ginger.  "I am a ginger-lover.  I did marry one." Romance, ladies and gents.

Nancy has decided to save time by doing an all-in-one-sponge where she is just "chucking it all in" - unfortunately her blender gets over-excited and chucks it all out.

Nancy is "sticking with the French theme" and making a Red Windmill - she RESOLUTELY refuses to call the Moulin Rouge, lest Paul get one over on her pronunciation skills, no doubt.  She's using red-dyed caramel on the sails and is going for "burlesque and sinister".  Sue thinks she "can-can" do it. 

Nosy home life bit: Nancy is an late over-achiever; she did a degree in her forties and took a dog to Crufts (like, as part of the competition, not just for a walk).  We see some adorable Hull children - I'm assuming they are two of her eight grandchildren.

Luis is making a tribute to his hometown of Poynton, called Village in Chocolate, which is essentially made of, yes, chocolate. I lose count of all the variations, but I am willing to try them all. 

Nosy home life bit: Luis plays in a ukulele band and as a younger man, he had a full head of black hair which gave him the MOST SPANISH FACE YOU HAVE EVER SEEN!  The power of follicles, eh? Senora Luis is also a bit teary.  Bless.

Dramatic montage #4: Choux-poo-pi-dou.  Luis strides purposefully across the room, before delicately piping out a load of balls.  (Choux balls.)

Richard and Luis discuss how they are in a "constant silent panic".  Nancy doesn't even bob her chignon.

The tea party picnic is kicking off and the weather is fortuitously glorious - OF COURSE IT IS.  God would NEVER let it rain on Bake Off final day.  Martha's brought some 17 year old mates, who are trying not to look crazy-excited.  Chetna's old enough not to give a shit who sees her excitement: "who's it gonna beeeeeeeeeeeeeee?" she squeals.  Iain tells us that "the people who got the final deserved it", before pointedly death-staring at Diana (I made that last bit up).  He's backing Luis.  Enwezor is for Richard.  Diana is supporting Nancy in the name of "woman-power" (oooh, perhaps #bincident was a guerilla act against patriarchal oppression rather than a panicked confused freezer mix-up?!).  As for Norman, he tells us he is willing to put a one pound each way bet on Nancy.

(On which note, hoorayyyyyyy!!!! A Norman sighting!  He's even the best when it comes to picking your favourites.)

Back in the kitchen we learn that Mr Nancy has made his wife another gadget.  It's not as sex-toy-esque as the last one, even though the instruction was "I want to able to mould my brandysnap around something".

Mel and Sue are sneaking around eating all the leftovers they can find, knowing it's the last chance for another year.  GO ON GELS.  Speed eat for your lives!

Dramatic montage #5: Assembling the structures.  No crashes so far...

Uh-oh, Nancy's lost a sail!  It's ok, she'll sort it - no sinister French windmill's going to defeat Nancy.

And that's it!  "Your Bake Off 2014 is over".  Eeeeek!

They all look amazing.  Fact.

Show-stopping Berrywood verdict: Richard's windmill is "bright and fun".  The flavour of the bottom layer is "fantastic" and the upper layer "nicely contrasts" it.  Mary checks the choux: "that's a first-class choux", she decides.

Nancy's apron has bloodstains on it, from the red caramel, which makes me realise how few blue plasters we've seen this series.  She's told she should be "proud" of how her windmill looks - and so she should, the SAILS ONLY TURN!  There's a comment that her biccies "could have been neater", but the shortbread is "first-rate".  "The flavours are good" says Paul, then he adds "beautiful", even though her profiteroles could have been bigger.

Luis colliery decor "doesn't half draw your eye to it" and both judges LOVE the design. He's also got his mint/peppermint ratios right, but one of the chocolate sponge layers is just a little bit dry.  "The hazelnut works" though and he has made a "beautiful chocolate biscuit". 

Oh my God - I CANNOT call it.  

They return to the outstretched arms and greedy little mouths of their loving friends and family. And then it's time...

The winner of the Great British Bake Off 2014 is... Nancy!  

I have to be honest, although my wallet was rooting for Luis, just before they announced the winner, I whispered "Richard" to my boyfriend - suggesting my heart lay with the blue pencil.  However, Nancy was an excellent dame, and backchat to Paul Hollywood should never go unrewarded.  Nancy plants her tongue firmly in her cheek and explains that she hadn't really forgotten the Male Judge's name, but was actually in love with him.  Our winner, ladies and gentleman - worthy indeed.

Since the Great British Bake Off:

Claire has baked, Enwezor has done an endurance race and Jordan has worn jumpers. Iain hasn't chucked any cakes in the bin (probably) and Nancy has gone freezer to freezer on a sabotage mission in the name of women-power (again, probably).  

!!!!! NORMAN IS WRITING HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY, DEAR GOD LET HBO HAVE THE IMMEDIATE RIGHTS.  !!!!!

Mind you, he's only reached five, so we may have some time before it's there.  

Kate has been practicing patience, Martha passed all her exams and Chetna's going to launch a pop-up kitchen thing.  Finally, Richard has retired the pencil, but not the baking, Luis continues to wear an excellent selection of bright t-shirts, and Nancy is still perfectly coiffed. 

Wasn't it wonderful. *sigh* How we'll miss such heart-warming and genuinely nice people humbly achieving such incredible feats. It just makes for a better world somehow... God bless the BBC for such TV loveliness every Wednesday at 9pm.  
Next week: The Apprentice.

2014 Mini blog. The final!

And the winner is:  Nancy!  Victory for backchat, excellent chignon work and, ultimately, fine, fine baking.

Ooooh controversial? Perhaps I was the one person in Britain hoping for a Luis victory (though possibly mainly as I had him in the sweepstake).  I loved Nancy, but, in the end, my heart was with Richard - five Star Baker prizes, then to be pipped at the post by 'the female finalist'... Gah!!!  His ruddy-cheeked smile was still in place though.  And he can finally take off his ear pencil.

Best technical instructions of the series: "Make twelve lemon tarts". "Write 'colon' on them".

Norman's conquest: The montage at the end is one of my favourite Bake Off traditions, I think - especially as we learnt that "Norman has been writing his autobiography and has reached the age of five." If his whole life story is not immediately dramatised by HBO THERE WILL BE TROUBLE.

Big thanks especially: To my team at work for cake and sweepstake bantz.

BIG BLOG TO FOLLOW...

Next week: The Apprentice.

2014 Episode 9 - Patisserie Week - Semi finals

Last week: Richard’s advances in dough won him star baker (again), though I think Luis’ garish food colouring overload éclairs were well robbed - though possibly, mainly, as I've got Luis in the sweepstake.  The child Martha left and it was really sad.

This week: Ah oui, patisserie, where the challenges are all about beautifully decorated, elaborate teeny cakes that take painstaking hours and perfect eyesight to craft and are then wolfed down in greedy, greedy seconds.  And, of course, it's the semi-final, which is always an emotional week, as one baker has to fall so close to the final hurdle.  Poor Welsh Beca, Class of 2013 - that was particularly hard.  Though it was awesome when she turned up at the finalists' tea party with all the other Class of 2013 bakers and looked RIDICULOUSLY glam, like she was facing an ex for the first time since the break-up.

It takes Mel and Sue less than three minutes to honk up the Frrrrrrench accents to talk about patisserie. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

There’s a rundown of the final four’s prospects: Luis is the designer, Chetna is flavours lady, Nancy is the experienced old skool baker, and Richard’s the regular star baker.

Blazer watch: Mary’s in fuchsia and Mel’s in a mulberry evening jacket, but sartorially it’s all about Chetna’s tangerine Converse matched with a denim skirt - she looks dead cool.

The Signature bake: Baklava

In the space of a few minutes we hear at least a multitude of different ways of pronouncing 'baklava' through an array of varied stresses and vowel sounds, which make the macaron/macaroon debate positively demure.  We get something between BAKlava and baklaVA from Mel and Sue, whilst Richard is pronouncing it bakLARva, which is how I say it (go #teambakLAva!), and Paul uses the same stress, but is all northern about the A sound.  IT’S A MINEFIELD.

However you say it, know this - it is DELICIOUS.  Traditionally, it’s filo, chopped nuts and honey. Although no-one with any sense or time makes their own filo, the bakers are having to make their own.  They all admit that they wouldn’t ever bother, though they do have the decency to look embarrassed about it to Mary.

As they do have to home-bake the filo, Chetna’s taking the opportunity to add cocoa to her dough for her Chocolate Orange Baklava and Masala Chai Baklava. Paul doom and glooms that it’s hard to see when chocolate filo is cooked and when Chetna replies that she goes “by eye”, Paul warns that “sometimes your eyes can kid you”.  Mary promptly tells Chetna to ignore him - they’re never happier than when they’re in ‘smug headmaster and strict but fair school marm’-mode, are they?   The instant they're gone, Chetna starts whispering a self-doubt mantra to herself - noooooo! Hold firm, Chetna.  Channel Nancy and ignore the Male Judge.

Luis has decided to make Indian Rose Baklava and Halwa Baklava Rolls. (Rose - pffff.)  They look amazing from the illustration, like delicate little flowers - the kind of thing you might get in a Chinese restaurant, but instead of being made of raw carrot, they are made of delicious sweetness. (They also involve barberry, which doesn't seem very Bake Off, but I suppose it’s not so chavvy now that Emma Watson’s involved in the marketing, wahey!).  In typical Luis-style, there's an organisational masterclass ahead, as he has laid out his dough in perfectly divided cling-filmed containers.  Mary tells him, with some gusto, to “get pulling”.  Sue explains this is Mary’s motto, I'm presuming from that time in Ibiza.

Sue tells us Nancy isn’t one for tradition, which doesn’t quite fit with her characterisation so far, other than her disregard for the tradition of calling the judges by their given names. She’s baking Coffee & Chocolate Baklava and Breakfast Baklava, which will involve home-made muesli and apple syrup. (Mr Cad was well unimpressed with this notion and started making dry boke facial expressions.  Personally I'm all for cereal in cake form.)  Nancy admits that she didn’t really know what baklava was – she’s in store for a treat, then.  I mean, outside of the context of having to bake it competitively and under limited time constaints.

We’re getting Rose & Pistachio Baklava and Walnut and Almond Baklava from Richard. Paul seems to taking a particular interest in the baklava shape (hmmmm, this sounds like an unspoken rule to me).  Richard’s going to make a long tube, which basically looks like a snake made of Labrador wrinkles - truth is, that’s not a terrible thing in baklava terms.

(All this talk of baklava and I was THIS CLOSE on my Thursday lunchbreak to popping to Hiba to get a fix.  I’d love to see the Thursday profit figures on items featured on the Bake Off.  They must be sky high... Hint hint, Vix, my financial journo friend.)

Dramatic montage #1: filo stretching and cutting.  You start with a small pile of dough and spend boring boring moments rolling it until just before it's so thin it's about to tear, but with no safeguards against what happens if you miss the moment and get ripped sheets.  It's a basically like attempting to recreate Cassandra off Dr Who’s face with a rolling pin.  Indeed, Sue wants to use Nancy’s filo as a natural botox.

Nancy has made a small wrinkled phallus. Sue doesn’t think it will make it past the relevant regulatory requirements.  Speaking from a position of relative regulatory expertise in relation to broadcast media, she is right to express concern.

On the final approach, there's lots of oven staring - Nancy is convinced her honey has curdled, whilst Richard is wondering about the correct baklava colour. He reckons Paul has established a secret Dulux style colour chart for the perfect shade - I'm sure he's right, but Richard is typically relaxed about the outcome, pointing out that he'll learn what was right when Paul tells him. Right on cue, Paul stalks up behind him and peers into his oven, wordlessly.

Signature Berrywood verdict: Nancy's baklava is pale, but Mary rates the crispiness sound as the knife cuts into her muesli baklava.   Paul adds that it “tastes good” and admires the texture.  The coffee ones are “a bit soggy”, but “the flavours are good”. Nancy has “got what baklava is” and “has been very original”.

Paul isn't convinced that Luis' baklava cups (which look INCREDIBLE by the way) are really baklava. Channelling Nancy's stand-up-to-Paul spirit, Luis says he researched baklava and had seen little cases made of filo. Mary's not convinced either, but “it's meticulously done”. Sadly, it's “bone dry”. The other lot have great flavours, but “the pastry is just wrong”.  (GAH! I can't lose my sweepstake person so close to the end!)

Richard's proximity to Green Lanes (or thereabouts) has clearly held him in good stead - the compliments flow, and that's just the first batch.  His baklava look lovely, “slice well”, have a “traditional” flavour, Mary especially enjoys the “big nuts” within (oi oi), are “bang on” and “a winner”.  Blimey.  The second batch are unfortunately “underbaked”, but still have “excellent flavour”.

To me, Chetna's baklava have something of the pork product about them – one lot look like pork pies, the other like glazed sausages.  (Not that that's necessarily a bad thing...)  Mary thinks they look “heavy” and bemoans the lack of layers and syrup ooze, but Paul mentions the “good colour”. The chocolate ones “taste delicious”, but again no layers. And clearly, no layers = bad.

Animal shot: Bee truffling a flower.

Post-challenge, Nancy admits she doesn't like baklava.  What the WHAT?!?!?

Animal shot: That white horse again.  This time it's snorting.

The Technical Challenge: Schichttorte

“But they might make a good one” says Sue. It was inevitable.

It's Paul's recipe for a grilled German cake.  Each shit torte (let's get that over with, eh? Not that it's not hilarious - I mean 'shit torte') has twenty layers, light, dark, light, dark, made of simple batter, grilled one by one over an hour.  AN HOUR.  The key to the challenge is 'watching the grill' and 'not losing the will'; it's basically a concentration challenge for those who favour focused over chuck-it-all-in-slap-dash, so Richard and his pencil and Luis and his organisational baking in-tray should have the edge.  (Mind you, it's not one for those who are dodgy of knee, eh? Sadly, the BBC budget doesn't seem to stretch to face-height ovens on this occasion.)

Interestingly when Mary tries Paul's shit torte, whilst she's full of admiration for the technical achievement, she emits zero “MMMM DELICIOUS” sounds. There doesn't seem to be any cream filling, which tends to be key to pleasing Mary, well, if there's no booze to take the edge off.

Chetna's freting and trying to peer at what's going on elsewhere. “She's a bit competitive, is our Chetna” giggles Luis. “WHAT?” replies Chetna – the twinkle in her eye suggests she agrees though.

It's a mere fifty grams of batter per layer, so the bakers are having spreading issues in their tins, as it has go soooo thin. Richard's wondering whether to add more mix instead, but Mel advises he “spread it out with the old spatch” - no-one abbreviates like la Giedroyc, do they?  She just fantas, isn't she? (See, I can't do it.)

Dramatic montage #2: Luis and Chetna bend up and down in perfect unison.  They're having to judge the cooking timings by eye, squatting up and down to check whether each layer is now sufficiently dark, or light, to take out in time.  IT'S OK, THEY ONLY HAVE TO DO THIS TWENTY TIMES.

Sue does her best Gestapo to announce halfway.

Foodistory: Mel goes to a small German town to pour batter on a spit, helped by a German man standing right behind her, which she notes “is very much in the style of Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore”.  A cake on a spit... Hmmmmm. I think I'd prefer a whole sheep, please.

Dramatic montage #3: Counting layers. Luis has written it down and knows he's on number 17. Richard has lost count.  Chetna only made it to 18 and has decided to stop, lest she doesn't get her glaze on in time.

It's judging time. Paul, in his absolute element of jobsworthness, meticulously counts the layers in each schichttorte. Mel and Sue do whatever the opposite is of cheerleading is from the gingham sidelines - booing and groaning that he's actually bothering.  Both Luis and Richard have hit twenty layers, but Paul is delighted to see Nancy and Chetna only made it to 18 and 17 respectively.

Tecchie Rankings: Chetna’s last, then Nancy, then Richard, with a Luis victory!  (Hooray!  I'm back in the sweepstake game!!!!)  “Pretty faultless” says Paul - more impressed than grudgingly.

Richard is happy to “take second and never cook that again”.

The Show-stopper: Entremet

I'M SO FANCY. YOU ALREADY KNOW-OH.

But in case you didn't know, entremets are those super high-end pretentiously elegant little cakes that you see in the windows of Parisian bakeries. Paul says he's seen “pastry chefs crumble at making these things” yet NO-ONE RAISES AN EYEBROW AT SUCH AN IMMENSE USE OF THE CRUMBLE PUN.  Clearly there's no time for fun, when you have horribly complex mini-patisserie to construct.

Even the names are an elaborate mouthful - I refer you to Luis' Chocolate Mousse & Cherry Entremets and Pomegranate, Fig & Pistachio Sponge. Luis' sponges somehow involve pomegranate molasses, which sound more like a swamp monster than a posh foodstuff.

I'd half hoped Nancy would make Salt Of The Earth Entremet and A Spade's A Spade Entremet, but, probably more wisely, she has opted for Raspberry Nonnettes & Lime and Passion Fruit Entremets.  In the fancy ingredients stakes, Nancy takes Luis 'pomegranate molasses' and raises him 'verbena jelly'. (Somewhere over the border, Norman's head explodes.)  Paul says he is "surprised" to hear that Nancy is covering up the colourful content of her entremets with a chocolate coating which will hide the inside - obviously, when by 'surprised', he means 'trying to shit Nancy up in true Paul Hollywood tradition'.  Mind you, even Mary seems up for exposed layer action.  Uh oh...

Indeed, when Richard, off the back of a Mary interrogation, reveals that there will be open layers in one set of his entremet, Mary literally purrs with delight.  And just to show that he can do covered stuff too, Richard's other lot of entremet will feature dots in the sponge.  Yes, people, Richard is making DOTTY SPONGE.  Forget your molasses and your verbana, cause Richard is ALL OVER THIS.  I'm not sure which of his Hazelnut Mocha Entremets & Pink Grapefruit Entremets are open layered and which are spotty, but it all bodes well, even if he is using grapefruit, the most 'refreshing' of all the breakfast fruits.

Chetna lists the thousands of ingredients which will go to create her six-layered Chocolate, Orange & Nut Entremets and Cappuccino Entremets. She does her best to describe how it's going to work and look, but the judges get openly bored and tell her they'll just see at the end.

Dramatic montage #4: Well, not so much a description of a dramatic montage as a description of the whole entremet process: you know when you have a million things to do and so you start them all and then you have all these spinning plates and nothing actually gets done because you keep getting distracted by having to keep that other plate spinning, then that other one, then arghhhhhhh etc etc etc? Well that, only in the context of competitive baking where you do have to finish and it has to be perfect.  Fun times!

Luis seems to have made lime green rice-cakes. Nancy sneers that he's assembling and she's nowhere near that.

Dramatic montage #5: Popping jellies and mousses out of moulds. Luis has pulled a blinder. Chetna needs more fridge time. (Thank gawd Diana's not around to cause freezer havoc.) Mel mews some reassuring words, then makes a 'holy crap not a chance that'll set' face the instant Chetna's back is turned.

Nancy pipes up “oh dear, dear, dear”, which is worrying, but it's only as her chocolate has gone all over the work surface under her entremet. No need to worry about mess, Nancy! It's the fancy we care about just now. Mind you, there does seem to be limited chocolate on the sides of her offerings, so... Hmmm... 

It's the end of the challenge and Nancy mimes a throat cut sign.  I don't *think* it's a threat, but more an assessment of her changes.

Animal shot: I couldn't quite see, but, based on the bleating, I truly hope it was a geep.

Show-stopping Berrywood verdict: Firstly, it has to be publicly stated: their bakes all look fabulous.  Just brilliant.

“The finish is very good, I can't wait to get inside” says Mary, of Richard's entremets. The dots are extraordinary - yes, it's the exact skintone sported by Mr Blobby, but dotty sponge is still really swish. The chocolate layered entremet are deemed “delicious... That is extremely good”. The grapefruit is less successful, but it's marginal: “what a professional selection you've done for us”.

Mary thinks Nancy's nonettes are “interesting”, but Paul snarks on the chocolate “not going to the bottom”. They slice away and there's a square of jelly inside: “that looks stunning when you cut in” says Mary. Even the Male Judge admits he quite likes that. "You've done well". The other batch taste great, but “fall below your standard” on the presentation.

The look of Luis' entremet is “really sensational” and “elegant”. Paul thinks the “pomegranate jelly is delicious”, but saves his real praise for the chocolate and cherry: *serious face*, *pause*, then “that's a very very good entremet”.

Mary thinks Chetna's cappuccino entremets “look bulbous”, but she says they are “the most delicious cappuccino” (did Chetna secretly Irish them up?).  Paul admits “they've got a kick” and - of course - “fantastic flavour”. The others are less flavoursome and Mary and Paul find the layers a bit blended.

In their pimp lounge, Berrywood essentially announce that the men are safe, whilst the women are in danger.

Ma Baker: There was much wrangling, but it's Richard that gets it – FOR THE FIFTH TIME. He has to win this now, surely. (Imagine the riots if he doesn't! It will make the bincident look like a drop in the ocean!)  Mind you, I'm still holding out some hope that Luis produces something so mind-blowingly incredible that my sweepstake chances turn to real monetary pounds.

Mel and Sue Sandwich: Chetna. Awww. It's not even that she had a bad one particularly, just that the others pipped her on the day. I thought Chetna was a bit dull at first, so I'm glad we got to see a cheeky, competitive side to her. 

Luis sheds a bit of a tear that he's made it, as he thinks of his family. Awww Luis - I don't know if you'd be my favourite if I didn't have money on it, but you're aces. But so is Richard. And Nancy. Good old Bake Off – only heroes here. It's just so satisfyingly comforting.

Next time: THE FINAL. The usual Bake Off tea party - with extra Norman, and an Iain/Nancy freezer-door-closing hug, I hope...

2014 Mini blog. Semi final (week 9)

Bye bye: Lovely Chetna and her amazing orange converse - but it was soooo close. You should've used your trusty mango, Chets.

Ma Baker: Richard makes it five. He has GOT to win this now, surely.

Paul's Theatre of Cruelty: Counting the number of layers in the technical challenge.  What a schichtorte.

“BAKlava” or “baklava”:  It's the new macaron/macaroon.

Next week: The final, and if Richard doesn’t win, UK-wide riots which would make the #bincident look tame.

2014 Episode 8 - Advanced Dough Week - Quarter finals

Last week: Fryer timer woes and bye bye to Kate. An eclair stair of yeah for Richard. But mostly Mary Berry wore a brilliant pink bomber jacket with a stork on it.

This week: The somewhat repulsive sounding 'advanced dough'. Mel and Sue make jokes about a bread with a PhD - though Mel seems to have slight doubts about the comedic impact. Sue does a velociraptor impression. (As it's not one of those super mean unrealistic interviews on The Apprentice with Evil Claude or that other one with the nearly-mullet, this is entirely fine.)

Blazer watch: Mundane after last week. Mary's got a fancy floral top on, but if it's not satin salmon zip up with a bird emblazoned on the front, what is the point?

The Signature bake: Sweet fruit loaf.

It has to be enriched dough and freeform, but can be any flavour or fruit, and no tins. (In my mind "no tins!" was instructed in the EXACT voice Edna Mode uses to decree "no capes!".)

Martha tells us that it takes three and a half hours to make enriched dough, but they only have two and a half hours. Hmmm. That would seem to be a problem.

Luis is making what looks like a giant bread broccoli, which he's calling Black Forest Cherry Tree. It will have choc chips and cherry inside, as well as a sugar cube infused with brandy; it's the quarter finals, so now's the time to unashamedly appeal to Mary by upping the alcohol content.  Though he's also got a green glacé cherry, which Mary will probably be less keen on.

Martha too is sneaking the booze in (mind you, that's par for the course for a 17 year old); she's brought in her aunt's home-made cassis to throw into her Spiced Plum Iced Bread Swirl. 

Chetna's Date and Walnut Swirl Bread is inspired by a Croatian bread she is finding unpronounceable. She attempts “peh-teet-za” and “po-eh-teet-za”, but doesn’t look convinced. Mel clarifies that it’s definitely not a pizza though, which is slightly disappointing. Sue, taking on the voiceover then confidently pronounces it “pov-e-tizta” with a V sound. How interesting that Sue should know exactly how to say it - it's almost like the elders of the Bake Off tent are entirely familiar with the poviticia concept. HMMM.   Mary frowns as she asks Chetna, with apparent confusion: “do you tear or slice it?” The Berry confusion is confusing - generally if she hasn’t heard of something, she’s all excitable and bright-eyed; confusion is reserved for when she sees a technique she knows will lead to inevitable fuckupery. DOUBLE HMMM. 

Less confusingly for Mary, there's yet more booze being implemented, as Nancy is sticking Marsala wine in her Lincolnshire Plum Braid, which she points out sounds like 'bread' AND will be plaited, DO YOU GET IT? (We get it.)

Bread puns are par for the course, of course, BUT THEN Nancy drops an ABSOLUTE CLANGER: “I’m going to finish the prove in the microwave.” !!!!!!!!!!  The judges go into silent shock (where's Dani Intensive Care when you need her) and even Mel looks a little scowly as she asks “Have you tried this before?”.  Nancy says she has, as Paul continues to look on with ABSOLUTE DAGGERS (though he's possibly still smarting from MaleJudge-gate). Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, this has 'shop bought fondant icing written all over it!  I fear the worst!

As Mary and Paul murmur about the dangers of microwaving, Mel picks up one of Nancy's bottles and surreptitiously sprays an unidentified orange liquid into her mouth. So much for the attempt to sneak a shot of booze in, as she immediately starts gagging - “I thought it was the Marsala!” she rues. "No!" says Nancy, "That's my oil!"

Dramatic what-will-happen-in-the-microwave interlude #1: It's time for Nancy to attempt her microwave prove. Luis comes over, as he’s “never seen” microwaving before. Nancy says she was told it was dangerous. “Not for our Nance!” they giggle.  At the back of the exam hall, invigilator Paul whispers to Mary that microwaving “destroys the protein structure and can destabilise the dough”. Clearly this is madness Nancy! Ominously, Nancy then drops a random lemon on the floor. “Bloody hell, Nancy!” whispers Luis, nervous as hell.  There's a tense wait and finally the microwave pings (which is a good a time as any to share the AMAZING fact that the Welsh for ‘microwave’ is ‘popty ping’). Nancy opens to door to reveal... A massively risen dough. PHEW!

Richard is make a type of Chelsea Bun he’s calling a Fruit Swedish Tea Ring. Paul sees that Richard has covered his bench in flour and asks the (let’s face it) rhetorical question “do you not think that’s excessive?” - frankly, if there hadn’t been much flour, he would have asked why Richard thought it appropriate to use so little. Richard thinks he had a very wet dough, so it’s necessary. Paul then makes Richard show him his dough and there’s a sharp intake of breath. Paul informs him there was too much carbon dioxide in there and promptly leaves. Nothing like installing confidence in the bakers, eh Paul?

Sue has come over to chat to Luis, which prompts his memory that he’s forgotten to add not only the fruit, but also the chocolate to his dough. Eeeek! It's unusual for Senor Luis to make a mistake. Sue then kindly likens his cherry brandy sugarlump to a polio vaccination - though to be fair, I still dream about the deliciousness of Calpol. Paracetamol tablets don’t have anything like the same tasty effect.

Dramatic what-will-happen-in-the-microwave  #2: Nervously Nancy goes in for her second prove. Mel comes along - they can’t get enough of this microwave action! (I suppose it counts as extreme baking by the tent’s standards.)  Nancy in no way theatrically ups the ante by telling Mel that this could be her “death knell”. Microwave on and popty ping!  The door opens... no black smoke, no fire, no flat plait, indeed a slightly over the top RESULT! “It’s twice the size!” according to Mel. But what will Paul have to say...

Any other mortal would find themselves a bit overwhelmed by the enormity of their microwaved dough, especially as Sue helpfully likens it to a Labrador and Richard asks if it will cook at that size. Nancy just shrugs. Hahaha – I’ve always liked her, but I’m really starting to love Nancy.

Luis sticks a thermometer into his giant broccoli-shaped bread, which looks like a dozen boobs with bejewelled nipples from a certain angle. “That’s done” he says, confidently. Paul lurks in the background looking extra shady and extra judgy. Hollywood just LOVES the superiority of being a master-baker during advanced dough week, doesn’t he?

Chetna’s rocking her orange converse again. They are super aces. (Mango-coloured, someone on Twitter pointed out.)

As the last five minutes are announced Paul takes the opportunity to stalk through the tent putting the heebie jeebies into everyone by poking their loaves and looking unimpressed. Martha disinfects where Paul touched her bread by adding extra apricot glaze. Richard tells Paul “it’s too late now, innit”. Nancy openly stares Paul down and laughs in his face. I LOVE HER.

Mary was probably busy backstage lining her stomach for the booze to come.

Signature bake judging: Martha’s loaf has a “very attractive colour” and “springs back” as they cut through it. Mary thinks it has a “very nice flavour”, but she would have “liked to see some pieces of plum in it”.

The judges like the look of Chetna's “original” loaf and are pleased to see excellent swirls inside. Paul thinks there's “too much cinnamon”, though Mary's fine with that.

Luis' loaf “looks spectacular”. Paul likes the flavour, but “the sugar, I'm not sure about”. Mary, however, “isn't arguing with the [brandy-laden] sugar” and “will have another mouthful please”.

Nancy's microwaved loaf is “either underproved or the protein has been damaged”. Paul pokes around at the inside with a dubious look on his face and Nancy cries “but it's not awful, is it?”. “I've not said anything yet!” snarks Paul. Mary stands in the background chewing away, then announces “I think it tastes absolutely scrumptious”.

Mary thinks Richard's loaf is “sitting flat”, but Paul says he's “nailed that one” with “a nice blend of flavours”.

No obvious disasters there then. It's close stuff!

Mel introduces the technical challenge and asks for “happy faces”. Luis stays resolutely “in concentration mode”.

The Technical Challenge: A povitica.

Sound familiar?! WELL YES – to Cheta, who has JUST made one. No wonder Sue knew how to pronounce it. As we've already learned, it's basically brioche with self-saucing Nutella on the inside. Sue stresses that it was “pure chance” that Chetna had opted for that bake this morning. Chetna's having hysterics of relief in the background. Richard decides to “learn by watching”, which he clarifies is “not cheating”.

You apparently have to roll out a massively large very very thin piece of dough, spread cocoa butter and walnuts over it, roll the whole thing up in a giant tube, then snake it around a bread tin and prove/cook. Sounds simple, frankly.

Technical dilemma ahoy! How long to bake and how long to prove? Shall we ask Chetna? Chetna whispers that the key is a long bake, so proving time can be reduced. She must be well subtle, as no-one else has noticed that she's got her bun in the oven; they are all still proving.

Martha, showing more regard for cleanliness than ecology, says that she uses cling film over all her surfaces, so as not to piss her parents off by causing excess mess. She really is lovely, isn't she? It turns out that it's very handy for spreading the filling on the dough too, sort of peeling stickyback plastic style. The others look like they're basically trying to smooth out lumpy, not particularly well digested, dog shits.  Nancy hits upon using an icing bag and piping it out. Richard promptly “learns by watching”.

Luis isn't sure that he was right to leave his nuts so chunky. Mel reassures him that she "looooves chunky nuts". Meanwhile Sue is basically helping Richard give a handjob to a giant length of dough. Total filth? Yes. So business as usual then.

The bakers wrapping their dough into their tins is very sausage-esque. Nancy's well unimpressed: “It's a funny looking thing”. Martha decides her sausage wasn't long enough, so takes it out to squeeze a few more centimetres. That's valuable cooking time wasted...

Animal shot #1: A white stead.

There's an beaten eggwhite mystery – it's listed on the recipe, but no-one, bar Chetna, knows where it's supposed to go. Mel suggests to Luis that it could be to create giant hair, as that's what she used it for in the eighties. It seems unlikely that Luis can relate to that. Least not with his current hair styling.

Nancy decides it's for royal icing and gets about making some. Richard who has been copying, I mean watching and learning from Nancy this whole time, decides that he's not going to watch and learn at this point, as he just doesn't think that's what the egg is for. It's possible Nancy was just shitting him and seeing how far he'd copy - she's totally got it in her.

Animal shot #2: That white stead again, eating. (It's a new animal - you gotta get your money's worth.)

Luis worried as his loaf isn't cooked inside. Richard tries to reassure him and asks him if he's sure. “Did you stab it with your stabber?” All the technical terms, him.

Dramatic montage #1: Desperate last minute hand fanning, before icing. Everyone's drawn icing lines on top of their poviticia, apart from Luis the Graphic Designer who's gone for an neatly drawn intricate swirl design. It's supposed to be a blind challenge, mate! You might as well have written 'BY LUIS' on the top.

Tecchie Rankings: Not a great crop. Martha's is entirely raw inside, so she's last, then Richard in fourth, Nancy in third and Luis in second, which is actually a RESULT by these standards. Chetna's is the only one that's cooked, so she wins. It probably helped to have already baked it mere hours before.

Nancy admits that if she'd come last she wouldn't have owned up to her bake.  The awesome continues.

Animal shot #3: A GUINEA FOWL! New animals coming thick and fast this episode. Very exciting. (NB: Guinea fowls are the ones that look like over-inflated posh spherical pigeons with a turkey face.)

The Show-stopper: Two different types of doughnuts.

Eighteen of each lot, which comes to a combined total of 180 tent doughnuts. I'm sure Sue will happily eat any leftovers.

Paul reckons he's made 40,000 doughnuts in his life. Sure there has to be more to life than making 40,000 doughnuts?

Luis is making Cocktail Doughnuts inspired by – yes, durrr, by cocktails. But which ones? A Long Comfortable Screw On The Beach? No, perhaps more wisely, he's gone for Mudslife and Raspberry Mojitos doughnuts. Mary's eyes widen with alcohol-inspired joy - to be fair, they sound awesome. He also believes that at least one of the doughnuts should have jam in, which is entirely correct, as well as the punchline to a joke about reggae.

No third povitica for Chetna and – somewhat unbelievably – no mango either. She's baking Chocolate Mousse Filled Doughnuts and Braided Doughnuts, the latter being inspired by a South African recipe.

Martha, who is feeling the pressure, has opted for Glazed Lemon & Poppy Seed Doughnuts and Chocolate & Passion Fruit Doughnuts. Berrywood arrive to find her laminating. Oh not this again. I see no evidence of plastic coverings here, people!

Richard's doughnuts have a fairground theme: Rhubarb & Custard Doughnuts and Toffee Apple Doughnuts. The rhubarb ones are heart-shaped, which is different. Mary's not convinced that will work though. After the success of his eclair stair, Richard has brought more home-created presentation material – this time converted wooden crates which he has “jjjujjed” (sp.?)

Nancy's Doughnut Family Tree is intended to offer up child and adult doughnut options. The kiddy ones are chocolate and the adult ones are limoncello. She's decorating the kid ones with faces and is contemplating going for “grey, spiky hair and piercing blue eyes”. Paul looks on with a poker face - which will prove to be a helpful template. All this Paul backchat – Nancy you are living on the edge! I'm not sure the Male Judge is going to enjoy this...

The bakers demonstrate the satisfaction of manhandling a big fat newly nicely risen dough. It's like a giant food pillow. Mmmm.

Luis has brought a tray of eighteen cocktail glasses to display his wares - and the cool ones, like burlesque dancers perform in, only not giant.  Mel is delighted by the "pizzazz" of it all.

Richard has made "hundreds" of practice doughnuts, which have been gifted to grateful colleagues. "Doughnuts are FOR builders" he tells Mel. New York cops might disagree, but never mind.

Sue has observed that Luis is making food weaponry in the form of raspberry darts. Sue says she'd love to step on the oche with them. Pimp my darts. She's on to a winner.

Disaster! Martha has overproved her doughnuts! That's potentially make or break at this point in the game. "They're awful" she exclaims. "They're sad little pancakes." Poor M. That's not ideal for a doughnut task... Mel suggests she puffs them up by overcompensating with her curd injections.

Dramatic montage #2: IT'S TIME TO TAKE THE OILY PLUNGE!  Although Chetna's using a frying pan.  She claims it's the only way she knows, but I wonder if she's just concerned about the timer issues Kate had.

It's then filling injection time. It always pleases me that they syringe it in. Luis has a four points approach, Nancy's going for 10ml, Richard for 25. He says he even has numbers on the side of his syringe. Chetna shrugs and says she's just doing it "kinda by eye".

Luis is sticking large straws in his doughnuts which he had intended to fill with Baileys. You drink your Baileys shot, then have a doughnut. He's now hesitating as he knows the judges "don't like gimmicks". COME ON LUIS! Firstly, Baileys in doughnuts sounds like the greatest idea EVER. Secondly, Mary might not be pro-gimmick, but there's NO WAY she'll be anti-BOOZE GIMMICK! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Etc.

Nancy genuinely has given her doughnuts grey hair and blue eyes. Sue can't resist using them to do an impression of Nice Paul and Normal Paul. Any excuse to mock Hollywood and go Scouse.

Sue calls time. Richard celebrates by putting an entire doughnut in his gob.

Animal shot #4: They are coming thick and fast today! Hello, duck in a swamp. (Or perhaps a tall hedgerow.)

Show-stopper judging: Richard's rhubarb and custard's are praised for colour and lightness. Mary is happy to see the heart-shapes have held. (Despite Richard's reassurance on the matter, she CLEARLY didn't think that was going to work.) As for the flavour: “that's cracking”. The toffee ones are also a success “professional” and yummy.

Nancy's limoncello ones are slightly over-fryed, but Mary likes the moisture of the cream. “Fun for the children” says Mary of the other ones. Paul's concerned they are irregular in colour. “They look fine to me” says Nancy. “Would you say if they didn't?” asks Paul. “Of course” lies Nancy. Paul decides from the look of them that he has a “strong suspicion” that they are overdone. He pops one in his mouth and LO AND BEHOLD, “they're overdone”. He likes the flavours though.

Paul sums Martha's problem in one sentence: “Great tasting doughnuts, but the look and prove are all wrong”.

“Very, very fatty” says Mary of Chetna's first batch, and Paul agrees, though “the flavours are lovely”. She's managed good chocolate work too, though the mousse isn't sufficiently mousse-like. If it's a delicious chocolate gloop, frankly who cares?

Luis' raspberries are “a little bit uneven”, but they are “glazed nicely”. Mary likes the mint and raspberry. Paul tries one and clearly thinks it's just on the right side of the good/bad line, so tries another on the off chance it's a one-off and he has something to criticise. “I think you're alright actually” he concedes. “Cocktail madam” asks Mel, offering Mary the Bailey's straw. Mary sucks and HER FACE LIGHTS UP. "Oh ho HO!" says Mary. “There we go” mutters Paul. “I mean why are we bothering with the doughnuts?” she asks, entirely serious and immediately takes a second swig. Paul, somewhat more professionally, moves on to flavour critique. They're over-filled with coffee mixture and the “dough is quite soggy”, though he loved the raspberry ones.  Mary doesn't care and says “well I like that one” pointing at the Bailey's. “Of course you do, Mary!” dispairs Paul. Mary responds by taking her third Bailey's doughnut. And her fourth.

The judges are happy with Luis and Richard's offerings. It will be a power struggle between Mary's pref of Luis and Paul's of Richard. At the other end of the scale, Martha looks to be in most trouble.

Ma Baker: Paul gets his way – and it's fourth time for Richard. Unprecedented! All power to the pencil.

Mel and Sue Sandwich: Bye bye Little Martha. Sniff sniff.  (I'm fine, honest, just got something in my eye.) Mary tells us it's not the last we've seen of Martha. It's slightly ominous.

Next time: Patisserie.  Finickity posh cake stress.  More accents, no doubt.  Hon hee hon.