Bread week.
Bye bye: Dorret - to no-one's surprise, really. There's experimental and then there's baking Tracey Emin's bed in bread, which is officially the worst idea ever. Nothing says 'unappetising' like an unmade bed covered in fag butts and indeterminate sex stains. Not even fresh bread can save that hot mess of a concept.
Lucky escape: Fireman Mat, who was surely, and quite rightly, saved by his "dough-verload" pun. *applause*
Ma Baker: Ian again, for a bready pot plant, no less. But it was silver haired Simon-Pegg-alike Paul who got the first Hollywood handshake. And that was before we'd seen his phenomenal lion bread, for which he got a "special commendation", a thing the producers clearly made up to please Paul Hollywood, uncharacteristically über-impressed by the doughy Cecil (RIP).
Tent gone mad: Baking powder deemed acceptable!!!?!?!! Despite sniffing out the raising agent, Mary rated Ugne's soda bread. (She must have been drunk - the only possible explanation. Then again, isn't Bezza always drunk?)
Nadiya Face Watch:
Amazing work.
Next week: Desserts. Brûlée olé olé.
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