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.
No comments:
Post a Comment