2018 GBBO Blog - Week 2

Cake Week

Last time

Briony made good Brizzle biscuits, but Manon made even better Frenchie ones.  Ruby was nearly out, but in the end it was Imelda and her child-friendly swear of “shhhhhh-ugar plum fairies” who left the tent.

Preamble

Noel is dressed as Marie-Antoinette and the only take-home fact you need is that he looks objectively good as Marie-Antoinette and he’s going to do for giant powdered wigs what Gareth Southgate has done for waistcoats.

Rahul predicts he is going to run out of time; “Spoiler alert!” he giggles, before demonstrating the sound of a spoiler alert, which is we learn is “beep beep beep”.   And here’s me thinking it’s “he was dead the whole time”.

Before we get to cake, let’s talk spectacles.  This week Prue’s glasses icon is nineties John Major.   Unexpectedly, she is working it.

Signature dish: The tray bake

Antony is making a Cardamom and Coconut Burfi Traybake – burfi is a sweet made of milk powder and desiccated coconut.  We learn that Antony lives somewhere above the DLR and has made minimal effort to magazine-spread style his home into a pad of envy for filming.  He lounges on his is-it-brown-is-it-purple-is-it-maybe-just-in-need-of-a-spruce sofa, wearing flip flops and FaceTiming his mum.  Please don’t misunderstand me – I love that he’s barely bothered to tidy up.  He does have a fancy silver pig ornament though, so it’s not all just a brief hoover and don’t worry about hiding the TV remotes.  Also noteworthy - Antony’s mum seems to have managed to have angled most of her face on to the iPhone screen, so perhaps she can hold a FaceTime master class for all other Baby Boomer mothers.

Briony loves Spain, so is using Spanish nougat, for her Turron and Orange Traybake.  Sandi turns up to chat fake comedy Spanish and is surprised by Briony replying in actual real Spanish, which she studied at university.  Sandi gets competitive by switching to actual real Danish and making Briony say “I am the King of Denmark and I like strawberries”.

Dan is making Black Forest Slice because Black Forest Gateau was his absolute favourite as a child.  To hammer the point home, we see a picture of Dan as a child (dressed like a caveman, which is... odd).  Dan is also pretending to be pretend-peeved that he’s not the only one using cherries and chocolate, whining “Ruby’s stealing my ideas” and trying to make out like he’s joking when he absolutely isn’t.  Ruby is having NONE OF IT, and quite rightly, as her Boozy Black Forest Traybake sounds tastier that Dan’s, because it has chocolate ganache in it, and chocolate ganache is the mmm-mmm-MMMest thing you can add to cake.

It's home life VT time, and a little trip to Manon’s French egg farm, which has all the egg-laying animals – hens, goats, deer, a wallaby...  Manon, who will be making a Rosemary and Honey Traybake, is featured petting the animals and suddenly launching into a passionate outburst of French; perhaps it sounds a bit sexy to any non-French speakers who missed the subtitles explaining that she was expressing her utter hatred for chickens.

Terry’s already managing expectations about his Rum and Raisin Traybake, claiming it’s better a few days after you’ve made it.  Terry keeps bees and uses their honey to brew his own beer.  Well, who’d have predicted that a man with a waxed moustache was interested in beekeeping and home-brewing.

Little interlude as we a) watch Karen blow her tray-bake a kiss before she pops it in the oven and b) learn that Briony’s jam thermometer has a setting for “hard crack” (that’s got to be a Mary Berry own-brand, right?).

It’s a cliché that the Welsh love Wales, but Jon has zero fear of that stereotype, waxing lyrically and ever so welshily, about how he loves rosemary because it reminds him of Welsh lamb.  Jon is making a rosemary syrup for his Lemon Meringue Traybake.  He also has an entire wardrobe of Hawaiian shirts which he wears for work – and that work is couriering blood.  I am 100% warming to Jon.

Kim-Joy is making a Pandan Chiffon Cake with Palm Sugar Cream.  Pandan is a long leaf you get juice from.  Paul smells it, and even with his OTT mugging for the camera, there’s no way his immediate disgust is in the slightest bit faked.  He’s so repulsed it quickly turns to hysteria, giggling to Prue in maximum Scouse, “it’s like I just cut me lawn, it’s like I just cut meee lawwwwn”.  You might think the pandan fumes have some of the hard crack/party bicarb about them, but Noel, a more likely connoisseur, is reminded of frogspawn.  Either way, it all sounds completely scrumptious, if completely scrumptious means disgusting.

Home life VT for DJ Luke – not raving at the decks, but walking three adorable dogs in knitwear.  The producers have also kindly decided to feature a shot of his fiancée hoiking up her jeans whilst she wrangles her dogs.  Luke is going to be attempting a Lemon and Poppy Seed Traybake.

Rahul, in a similarly unexpected home life scene, is featured in his local leisure centre, working out on the weights and in the pool – he’s clearly taken that “chubby little face” comment to heart, Paul.  Back in the tent, it’s seventh time’s a charm for Rahul's Lemon and Cardamom Traybake, which he’s been refining with multiple practice runs.  He and Sandi agree the lemon and cardamom juice he’s concocted smells like disinfectant.  What treats await us, what with Kim-Joy’s pond scum and Rahul’s Cillit Bang in the offing.

Karen is wearing purple-rimmed specs, a striped jacket, and a monochrome pussy-bow style scarf draped over her brown apron.  She looks excellent - like a Quentin Blake character.  We learn she likes to sketch her designs at home, whilst asking her husband existential questions like “do seals have legs?”.  Sadly, no blubbery mammals (belegged or otherwise) will illustrate her Almond and Marzipan Traybake with Rhubarb Jam.  She’s going for classic stripes and “full disco” glitter.

Interlude in which we learn that Terry is going to “have to caramelise my nuts a bit quicker” whilst Jon’s famous sweats are being gratefully fanned by an attentive Sandi.  The dramatic strings then herald a cutting and decorating montage and Manon is doing some maths in French; I’ll bet it’s not the first time such scenes will be hitting the spot for at least some of the demographic.

Signature judging

Rahul’s made beautiful tasting cakes which remind Paul of a wholemeal sandwich.

Manon’s sponge is “bland” and “tough” – the cake equivalent of the Gallic shrug.

Antony’s produced a “messy” but “decent” tray-bake with delicately balanced flavours.

Luke’s bakes are “tough as old boots” and “sloppy”.

Terry’s rum is working for Prue whilst Paul is happy with the apple.

Karen’s bakes look elegant, but there is too much marzipan and an overly dry sponge. “Thank you very much for your feedback, that’s great” says Karen, in full product-taster work mode, where the subtext couldn’t be more “like I give a stuff, what do you know” if she tried.  Please immediately high-five me, Karen.

Kim-Joy’s bakes look lovely and she gets compliments galore about the chiffon (whatever the eff that might be), but the pandan flavour isn’t a success – oh really, who’d have thought?

“I really hope they taste OK” says Briony of her brow sloppy offerings.  “So do I” replies Paul “because they look hideous” - and he is right; they look like a tray of dog turds on a particularly warm day.  The taste, however, is “divine”.  Briony has a relieved little sob about it.

Jon’s made elegant-looking squares, which are nearly very good, but no-one fancies eating the full rosemary leaf on top.

In the battle of the Black Forest, Ruby’s managed a great taste but not such a great look, whilst Dan’s managed a great look aaaaand... yup, a great taste too.  Such a great taste that Paul proffers the hand.  Congratulations Dan, on the first Hollywood Handshake.

Technical challenge: Le Gateau Vert

Where’s Manon, who must surely be thinking, “ah ha last semaine, I knew nuh-zzink about your stupide Vagon Veels, but maintenant, I can win zee technical, avec this Frrrrench gateau, mwahaha!”  Ah mais non - she’s as blank as the rest of us.  All she can muster is that cake is green, but that comes quickly across from Noel and Sandi’s description anyway: the bakers will prepare the artist Claude Monet’s favourite cake: a pistachio sponge sandwiched by a pistachio crème au beurre, covered by a green fondant coloured by spinach.  

Yep, spinach.

“This is absolutely ridiculous” grumbles Dan, as the bakers peel back their gingham shrouds to reveal a large bowl of actual spinach leaves.  Dan is, of course, entirely correct that it’s ridiculous, but I’d really like to see him demonstrate some humour alongside his evident rampant desire to WIN WIN WIN.

Our old friend the genoise sponge is back.  Nine series later, I still don’t know what a genoise sponge is, but I have learned to spell it.  I think.  Most of the bakers are using their electric whisks.  Karen is going old-school with a manual whisk; it’s not a good move, based on the consistency of her mix, which resembles the last few retches before you hit bile-town.  But fear not, Karen thinks she knows what she’s done wrong – “I should have done something with this” she states, tentatively turning to the electric whisk which she’s apparently never seen before.

Terry’s made the same sort of liquid mustard as Karen, whereas the others have a thick pale yellow gloopy thing in their bowls.  Karen’s binning her mustard to start again, whilst Terry’s forging on.  Anything could happen (where by ‘anything’ I mean that one will fail and the other will create an acceptable gloop but run out of time).

The recipe tells the bakers to “bake”, so there’s debate about how long. “Eighteen minutes” says Jon, confidently.  Indeed it’s confidence all round for Jon, who loves making genoise and has also previously made marzipan.  He’s less confident in his knowledge of fine art – he indicates to Noel that he can’t quite remember whether he’s heard of Monet before (let’s face it, there’s only one artist any upstanding Welsh man needs to have heard of, and that is panty magnet Tom Jones).  Jon’s a little better on Van Gogh - “he done his ear in, right?”.  But an Art degree isn’t the key here anyway– it’s making an acceptable sponge, and boom: Jon’s managed it.

Unlike Dan and – oh there’s a surprise – Terry.  Your liquid mustard didn’t turn to sponge, Terry?  Shocking.

It’s spinach time!  Time to get green. “It smells like health, doesn’t it?” observes Briony, which sums it up perfectly.  The bakers then cook, blend and puree the spinach before bagging it and squeezing drops of their green mush into a measuring jug.  It all looks absolutely delicious.  OF COURSE IT DOESN’T.  It’s spinach flavoured cake topping resembling a testical-shaped dollop of green gulpsh.  Even the glossiest of glossy Instagram food influencers would struggle to make that look desirable.

As if the green ballbag squeeze wasn’t penance enough, the bakers then have to slice their fairly thin cake into three thinner slices.  This is as ripe for disaster as you’d expect and several bakers end up producing three pieces which are more hole than cake; Luke’s are essentially sponge crumbs mushed into three vague circle shapes.  At least he can use the pistachio butter-mortar to glue together his three ‘slices’ and hide his crummy debris with mouth-watering spinach fondant.

And yet, thanks to the magic of Bake Off, and the incredible talents of our bakers, come the final whistle, they’ve somehow all managed to produce cakes that at least look as they are supposed to.

Karen comes last – the outside look was fine, but she basically made a rubbery cake without layers.  She is joined at the bottom of the green cake barrel by Ruby, Antony, Terry and Luke.  The usually high-achieving girls, Briony, Manon and Kim-Joy, make up the middle bracket.  They fall just shy of the podium, which is made up of Dan in third, Rahul in second, and genoise-marzipan-and-vague-knowledge-of-tortured-artists fan Jon in first.

Jon adds winning the technical to life highlights like the birth of the kids and his wedding day.

Showstopper: Chocolate collar cake

Two tier cakes, framed with a chocolate collar.  The main plot point here is that the bakers have to melt and harden chocolate whilst the tent temperatures soar, thanks to global warming and the ridiculous summer we just endured.  On the other hand, Danish Sandi is wearing a jumper, so how hot can it be?  (Clue: HOT.)

As if I hadn’t already decided Jon was one of my new favourites, then his fate would be sealed after he announces, entirely deadpan, that he is making a Hawaiian Shirt Pina Colada Cake, “because I like pina colada” (mild pause) “and getting caught in the rain”. 

As if we hadn’t had enough of green tiered cakes, Antony is baking a Pistachio, Saffron and Rose Cake – fortunately it’s spinach-free. 

Ruby’s Chocolate Orange "Jackson Pollock" Collar Cake allows her, by her own admission, to make her chocolate collar look a bit of mess.  (If you don’t get that reference, maybe art fan Jon can help.)  She also chucks a tonne of orange liqueur in, so no complaints here.

As the task is to wrap at least two tiers of cake in a chocolate collar, Terry’s decided he’s going big or going home, with a Champagne and Strawberries Eiffel Tower Collar Cake – cue Noel wandering over in his Marie-Antoinette outfit for a slightly forced visual Parisian gag.  Again, the main takeout here is how good Noel looks as Marie-A.

Rahul describes his cake plans, as Paul, Prue and Sandi’s eyes glaze over - it’s a funny contradiction that Rahul's charm is in his long-winded, slightly drone-y, ultimately boring monologues.  His Chocolate Orange Layer Cake looks AMAZING.  But of course it does - it’s made of chocolate orange. 

At the other end of the scale, Kim-Joy’s Yuzu and Raspberry Genoise Cat Cake looks weeeeeird, but of course it does; it’s made of Yuzu and cats.  Fondant cats, for the avoidance of doubt.  “I think I get a lot of influences from Japan” says Kim-Joy, to absolutely no-one’s surprise.

Manon is making an Almond Princess Cake as a regressive tribute to a little girl she used to au pair for.  Actually, strike that ‘regressive’ – Manon’s fondant princess is sitting on the top tier defiant and furious, whilst a fondant prince is lying at the bottom, not even on the cake, looking like he’s just passed out from having been kneed firmly in the noisettes.  Manon then jokes that it’s actually Noel and Sandi – and Sandi is looking “BLEEP”-ed off because Noel is late.  The “BLEEP” is beautifully timed so that it’s entirely clear Manon just said “fuck” in the tent.  Noel and Sandi are completely thrown that someone’s dropped an F-bomb drop in the hallowed canvas walls.  Somewhere in the Shires a gammon Brexiteer screeches "treason".

Ohhhh HELLO Briony’s Chocolate Fudge and Salted Caramel Creation flavoured with vodka buttercream and decorated with peanut butter brushstrokes.  Yup, that sounds pretty divine, especially as her chocolate cake is “raw” and any fule kno that surprise cake mixture is the best bit of any sponge.

Luke’s making a Raspberry and White Chocolate Collar Cake – the most interesting feature the programme-makers can highlight for us is that he’s whipping cream.  So that’s nice.

Cake-melting montage:  “Lordy lordy it’s hot” says Ruby, WEARING A CARDIGAN.  May I suggest....?!?! 

And now the science bit, concentrate.  Or glaze over, it’s Rahul boring on a bit about crystals.

We move swiftly on to Karen, making a Strawberry Fayre Chocolate Cake which is going to feature lyrics about a woman who may or may not be a prostitute.

Dan, attempting a Dark Chocolate and Raspberry Birthday Cake, tells us he hasn’t practised against the clock as he “can’t get four hours of uninterrupted time in my house”.  I HEAR YA DAN  #parentalsolidarity and sorry I thought you had had a sense of humour bypass earlier.  I now realise you are just very very very very tired. 

Four hours to yourself – that has to be The Dream... I can only imagine how efficient my Bake Off postings could be!  (I am currently typing this at 2.30am, because I was woken an hour ago by the six-month old, and have far too stinky a cold - thanks to the three year old and his nursery buddies - to go back to sleep.  If it feels like I’m phoning this collar showstopper recap in, it’s because I 100% am.) 

Collaring montage/dramz stringz.  Ruby’s too chicken to get hers on, Terry’s is too melty to work, and Luke’s is embarrassingly wonky donkey.  It’s amazing he even got a collar on, seeing as his (cake) bottom is a mass of slowly melting cream.  I’m sure it will taste amazing, but it’s a literal hot mess.

Manon’s having a cry as she didn’t get her acetate off.  Rahul gives her a lovely hug.  Oh Rahul, you can drone on as much as you like after that hug.  What a complete sweetheart.

Showstopper judging

Dan’s cake gets called “rich”, “moist” and “delicious”. (Who needs four hours of me-time?)

Kim-Joy has impressive cats, but the sponge is slightly too dry.

Antony has too much saffron and not enough pistachio.

Karen gets piping props for her melt-in-the-mouth “really lovely chocolate cake”.

Jon’s Pina Colada cake arrives at the gingham altar complete with grass skirt decor – the pineapple, sponge and coconut are all well-received.

Luke’s cake looks it’s been dropped on the floor and he’s desperately grabbed handfuls of white chocolate cream and sponge and hastily reassembled it back on the tray whilst sobbing.  The judges sympathetically hope it will taste better than it looks; the strawberries and cream do – but the sponge is “tough” and “not good”.

Fucked-off Sandi sits happily atop Manon’s “nice-looking sponge”.  Paul takes the acetate off to reveal perfectly set, “beautifully shiny” chocolate.  It’s unclear whether she’ll be penalised for an inadvertent cheat ("TREASON!").

Terry’s unfinished Eiffel iron-work is praised, but his cake is “boring”.  Ouch.

Briony’s sponge is over-baked and “like rubber”, but her flavours are lovely.

Rahul’s construction is “an unbelievable job”.  It truly, truly is, you know.  Indeed, Paul is moved to do something he has NEVER done before.  “Come here, Rahul” he says, in an incredibly sinister way, before... out comes the Hollywood hand, for the first ever Showstopper Handshake. 

“Elegant and restrained” is Prue’s assessment of Ruby’s cake – she loves it.  And it’s ANOTHER handshake from Paul.  (He is in a good mood!)   The best thing about the handshake is that Ruby, whilst pleased, doesn’t really care that much, as it’s Prue she wanted to impress.  HAHAHAHAHA!

Animal watch: in a break from the usual cutesy animal shots, we see a bird of prey ominously swooping over a teeny gambolling lamb.  It is unclear whether the lamb is a target.

Star Baker: It’s Rahul!  “Cheer up Rahul” says Paul – it’s true that Rahul looks like he just been given some unexpectedly bad news, But he’s just processing his emotions as he’s worried he might have peaked too early.   

Leaving this week: Luke.  He knew.  To be honest, the game was up when the most interesting thing about his cake was that it had cream in it and Mrs Luke-to-be was featured unpicking a wedgie.

Next time: Bread week

Paul gon’ get even smugger.

2018 GBBO Blog - Week 1

Biscuit Week

Hola peeps!  Autumn’s here, so it’s time to celebrate with a TV show about baking in a marquee during torrential rain/extreme sun (MOTHER OF GAWD IT WAS TOO HOT THIS SUMMER).  A fresh batch of contestants are here and excitedly telling us things like “more people have been in space than the Bake Off Tent”; whilst this sounds good on the surface, it really means that clearly loads of people have been in space.  One of our bakers says getting into the Great British Bake Off tent is like getting to the FA Cup final, which I’m led to understand is as impressive as getting to represent your country at Eurovision, or as impressive as getting into the Great British Bake Off tent.

Noel has new Elvis sideburns and some colour in his cheeks - I do not like this.  Prue is all complimentary colours in a bright orange smock and electric blue specks - I do like this.  Sandi is still short and Paul Hollywood is still my favourite cake judging villain.  I'm planning on making this a full frame by frame blog, so strap in for many many paragraphs.  On your marks, get set, blog.

Signature dish: 24 Regional Biscuits

Briony the Bristolian mum has to be my favourite, because I too am a Bristolian and a mum and all humans are essentially that shallow and self-interested.  There is no native Bristolian biscuit we learn, but Briony is whacking some scrumpy in her Apple Cider Empire Biscuits, and cider is up there with other very Bristolian things like Banksy, Brunel-inspired engineering and problematic feelings about making use of so many things built on slavery.

Dan, a SAHD, has a daughter who screams “I LOVE FISH” as he serves her up some dinner.  What the bloody hell is your secret, Dan?  My eldest will only (grudgingly) eat chicken nuggets and Pom Bears. (He went off blueberries this week, which was a blow.)  Cad Jr is ok with biscuits though, so would probably give Dan’s Lemon and Strawberry Shrewsbury’s a try.

French Manon grew up on an egg farm, so she’s an archetypal GBBOesque contestant, in spite of her non-blue passport.  She’s making Hazelnut Cornish Shortbread, cause cream.

Elsewhere, Ruby is using a cream substitute for her Masala Chai Devon Flats - somewhere in the ether, Mary Berry raises an eyebrow.

Rahul is chatting to the judges about how his family are in Calcutta but he’s been in the UK seven years and Paul interrupts with a sarky comment implying Rahul is banging on a bit, which HOW VERY DARE YOU PAUL, Rahul is a delight!   Hilariously Rahul doesn’t give a shit anyway and breezes on by, continuing to natter about how he loves to natter.  Rahul is making Fennel and Coconut Pitcaithly Bannock, which looks better than it sounds.

We’re getting Cherry and White Chocolate Oatmeal Biscuits from Norn Iron Imelda, whilst Luke is offering up Yorkshire Gingernuts.  Luke, taking the role of ‘the one who doesn’t seem bourgeois enough to bake cakes’ is a “night DJ’ in ‘Sheffield’s music scene”.  Indeed, DJ Luke immediately proves himself adept at getting out an electronic scale and measuring 15 grams... of biscuit dough - to make sure all his biscuits are uniform.  (Do you see what I did there?  I made a drug reference, because Luke is a DJ.  Water-tight legal disclaimer: there is no implication that DJ Luke likes a cheeky snort of Party Bicarb.)

Antony is a Bollywood-loving Bengaluru-born banker – at least I think that’s what Noel said.  His biscuits are the less alliterative Turmeric and Caraway Goosnargh Cakes.  He performs a spot of Bollywood dancing for Sandi – screwing in a light bulb with a bum wiggle (that’s ‘with’ as in ‘whilst’ rather than ‘using’, FYI).  Antony is my early non-French or Bristolian favourite, thanks to his charisma and sass and bum wiggling and perfect black beard.

Jon is making something Welsh because he is Welsh.  The Welsh thing he is making is Aberffraw Creams, which is rather pronounceable for a Welsh thing.  It’s always disappointing when a Welsh word has vowels.

Kim-Joy has too much blusher on.  There, I’ve said it.  I don’t want to be all unwoke about it, but it’s too much, Kim-Joy.  Kim-Joy will bake Orange Blosson York Biscuits, inspired by her hair conditioner – that, I’m certainly not judging.  In the late naughties, Waitrose did this Christmas cinnamon or chocolate or cinnamon chocolate hand soap which smelt so amazing I couldn’t believe it wasn’t edible.

Karen, making Yorkshire Perkins (no, me either), is rivalling Prue’s handsome older woman in funky, colourful glasses look, with some panache.  She works part-time forcing the unsuspecting customers of Asda Wakeful to try spoonfuls of unidentified food. (Full disclaimer: I cannot resist a supermarket food taste.  Yes, I’ll even circle back in from another aisle to get a second sample, as if they a) won’t recognise me, and b) would even care if they did.)

Old gent Terry has a white curled moustache and is featured, FKW, riding a horse.  Well, I say ‘riding’ - Terry is telling his horse to “walk on, walk on, Amy” - but Amy is resolutely refusing to move.  Sorry Briony, Manon and Antony, but Amy is my favourite now.  Amy’s human Terry is cooking up some Lake District Ginger Shortbread, with some chocolate lambs sketched on the top.  Terry is a professional artist, so Paul takes the opportunity to throw some shade by claiming to not recognise what Terry’s drawn on his biscuit plan.  I would usually side against Paul, but it’s true that Terry’s sheep have something of the cow about them.  Sandi kindly suggests it’s because they are upside down.

That’s everyone covered - time to ramp up the tension with an exciting oven-door-opening montage, some dramatic string music, and a Noel and Sandi voiceover warning about cooking times, lest the bakers get AN UNEVEN BATCH.  Classic Bake Off stuff, but TBH honest everyone seems generally all over it - bar Terry, whose chocolate lamb-cows haven’t set.  He looks so sad.  Don’t be sad Terry!  Amy’s right behind you!  (Refusing to walk on.)

Signature Judging

Good:

Antony’s bright orange psychedelic biscuits stun – Prue takes one away so she can accessorise with it later.  Kim-Joy has “exquisite” and “beautifully balanced” biscuits and Briony has managed “melt in the mouth and crumbly shortbread”.  Frenchie Manon has also nailed it and gets extra points for offering up milk.  We have “good ginger” from DJ Luke, whilst Imelda has produced a “delicious biscuit”.

Middling:

Karen’s cookies are too chewy for Paul, but she’s already run out of fucks to give about what Hollywood thinks, and her specs sista Prue is happy enough.  Rahul’s fennel hasn’t come through – that’s disappointing solid 2:1 territory for our rocket scientist.  Dan’s biccies have great flavour but are too tough.

Ugly: 

Jon’s Welsh biscuits are “bland” and “under-cooked”, whilst Ruby’s offering is deemed too dry, and “more sponge than biscuit”.  Poor Terry gets “I don’t like the colour.  I don’t like the look of them.  It’s a rough old biscuit” and some OTT fake sticky chewing – brutal from Paul. Prue tries to buoy Terry with a “great flavour”, but it’s clearly done out of sympathy rather than candour.

Technical challenge: Wagon Wheels.  

Manon and Antony have no idea what on earth they are. Someone tell them that they are not a thing you bake, but a thing you purchase from the corner shop for under a quid when you popped in for milk.

Sandi tells DJ Luke that she has never tried a Wagon Wheel and was 55 before she tried a Pot Noodle.  Luke LITERALLY CANNOT BELIEVE IT.  But yes Luke, it CAN happen – women over 55 on your television DO exist.

Montage-watch: a ‘raspberry jam bubbling in saucepans’ montage into a ‘marshmallow fluff bubbling in saucepans’ montage.

Terry, who is merely a few centimetres taller than the famously tiny Sandi, fails to notice as she gently mocks him for being short, whilst Karen and Noel bitch about Paul’s skant recipe detail.  The dramatic strings are back to overcompensate as everyone seems to be more or less on their game, bar Antony whose wagon wheels are lolllllllllz.  

Technical Judging

The gingham “table” (RIP “altar”) is covered by what looks like eleven plates of Wagon Wheels, and Antony’s lolz.  Paul and Prue get ranking: Antony comes last, obviously, followed by Imelda, followed by Kim-Joy, followed by Terry, Luke, Rahul, Karen, Jon and Dan.  It’s Bronze for Manon (who can’t even remember what they’re called), Silver for Briony and Gold for Ruby.

Showstopper: 3D biscuit selfie  

A self-portrait, constructed with decorated biscuit layers and fillings and placed upright on an easel stand.

Jon talks passionately about his Sailing Selfie by the Sea, whilst his arm jiggles vigorously under the table - for he is orange zesting.  His selfie is inspired by “a flaccid journey over to Tenby followed by a Force Six storm”, which is certainly a image to behold - until I casually mention to Mr Cad that I didn’t realise “flaccid” was a nautical term and learn that Jon actually said “placid journey”. 

Briony’s showcasing Bristol, because DURRRRR – it’s the best city in the world.  But would you believe that her Bristol Biscuit Selfie will feature the Suspension Bridge and the Balloon Fiesta rather than the M32 and the Broadmead underpass?

Rahul is recreating his First Spring in the UK, from seven years ago, which features greenery and a swan, and was probably the last time he saw the sun out.  

Ruby is making the not-at-all-showing-off Gingerbread Marathon Selfie from the time she ran the London Marathon.  She’s making forty biscuits and has never finished it in practice, let alone in time, so what on earth she thinks is going to happen in the tent is anyone’s guess (clue: FAILURE).

More showing off from Antony who is doing a Kilimanjaro Selfie of when he climbed... I imagine you can guess.  Meanwhile Karen is showing off that she has a holiday home in France with her Rosewater and Cardamon Holiday Selfie.  Like an sane human Prue isn’t convinced about rosewater and cardamom.  And whilst we're on the subject of things that are fairly rank, we unexpectedly learn from the man himself that Jon is really sweaty, so that’s nice.

Dan’s New Dad in Palm Springs Selfie sweetly commemorates him and his husband becoming parents, as they had their baby via a surrogate in California.  It’s all palm trees and sunshine, and Dan cuddling... um... how to describe what it looks like... a pink glow worm?  A pink jelly baby?  A large pink peanut shell?  Basically guys, there’s no getting around that these all sound like euphemisms for a penis, because that’s what his swaddled biscuit baby looks like.  A penis.  (Which bravo – quite impressive to inadvertently make the act of labouring a baby all about the penis.)

DJ Luke, also commemorating a significant time of vagina-based carnage and making lifelong bonds in America is recreating a lads’ weekend in Vegas.  

In contrast to Luke’s ‘What Happens In Vegas’ Selfie, there’s a perky-young-woman-in-Japan-selfie-off between Manon (Matcha and White Chocolate Ganache Japanese Selfie) and Kim-Joy (Me at Miyajima Shrine).

Terry’s Brandy Snap Selfie is the only 3D self-portrait – which sounds amazing until we learn he is draping brown dough over a “three-dimensional surgical plaster face cast”.  Mmmmm, delicious.  Finally, poor Imelda has burnt her Seaside Selfie, which seems to be mainly made of stress and nervousness.  

Indeed, it’s time for the ‘stress and nervousness’ montage, with a bit more burning from Terry, and the inevitable lack of time crisis from Ruby.  We move swiftly into the piping montage – my my there’s some garish food colouring in that there tent.  Mary Berry, still miffed about the cream substitute, looks on from afar with pursed lips.  In my mind she has a TV screen built into her Aga, and is watching with a vat of sherry and Mel’n’Sue on WhatsApp. (Group name: 'Hollywood is a Traitor'.)

Time’s up – stop the showstopping.  Ruby has made a pile of undecorated brown biscuits but, on the plus side, she has fashioned herself some funky marshmallow gloves. “They’ll judge it on biscuit, right?” she asks Manon as the camera tellingly lingers on her sketched plans, all about the colourful, intricate design.

“What are you holding?” Kim-Joy asks Dan, referring to the pink swaddled thing in his ‘New Dad’ selfie.  “It’s a baby!” says Dan, looking utterly confused that it isn’t supremely evident.  “Oh, I thought it was something else” replies Kim-Joy, speaking for the nation. 

Showstopper Judging

Paul doesn’t mess about either – he praises Dan’s general biscuit, but bluntly tells him that the baby “looks like a massive prawn”.

Kim-Joy gets praise for colour and taste, but could have done with more spice.

Paul likes DJ Luke’s orange and cinnamon combo, though Prue questions whether Las Vegas is underbaked.  That’d be a first etc etc.

Antony has “a gorgeous balance between the cinnamon and the gingerbread”.

Jon’s is cooking is deemed a little off, but the flavours get big time praise.

Whilst Rahul’s biscuit is deemed “fantastic”, Paul can’t help negging Rahul’s well-drawn “chubby little face”. MIRROR PAUL?  

Paul’s clearly on a bitchy roll, calling Karen a cross between Dame Edna and Su Pollard.  Karen zings back that “that’s been said a few times” – i.e., ‘come on Paul, some originality, please’. (I love Karen.  Also, this blog would NEVER just lazily compare Karen to another older female celeb known for her bold, colourful glasses.)  Oh hi Prue.  What do you think?  (Lack of rosewater.  And that’s a bad thing?)

Prue deems Imelda’s biscuit face “a bit bland”.  Then “quite thick”.  Then “and a little dry”.  Paul kindly follows up with “it’s a bit like stale shortbread”.  Uh oh.

The judges are quite kind about how Ruby completely failed to finish her overly ambitious marathon, but are less kind about the dryness of her offering.  Double uh oh.

Briony’s Bristol biscuits are “nice” but “needed more punch”, whilst Manon's Japanese scene gets just superlative after superlative.

Terry’s crime scene, I mean 3D face biscuit, is deemed “ingenious” and “absolutely delicious”.  Go Terry!  I now live to see Amy the horse hanging out in the garden to cheer Terry on come the final.

Final deliberations

The judges gather in the special judging annex and cast their views.  Manon gets praise, as does Briony – my two natural faves top of the class.  Boom!  At the other end, Terry seems to have escaped eviction – or has he?  Imelda and Ruby get mentioned too.  Tense times.

Star baker

Noel announces star baker: Manon.  He pronounces it beautifully.  I.e. Mah-non, not Man-Non.  

Sandi and Noel sandwich

Sandi announces that it’s Imelda getting booted.  At least poor Imelda’s had a lovely time (though what else can you say?  Paul’s mean and I totally messed things up?).  Ruby fully recognises that she just missed not coming back again for Week 2, which is...

Next time: Cake week

Someone’s made a plate of turds, the technical challenge seems to be squeezing giant testicles made of broccoli, and Ruby and Dan seem to be having a feud – FRIDGEGATE THE RETURN?!

Oh my Gawd, the length of this blog is ridiculous.  If you have made it this far, please now fetch yourself a lovely cup of tea/gin/gin tea.  And be assured - here’s no way I’ll manage to blog this much again.  Surely.  Until next time.