Mini blog. Week 5 - Biscuits

Bye bye: Rob. Exterminated by a turquoise Dalek made of edible glue. Turns out baking is not rocket science, mwahaha. He seemed fine – he was especially keen to get into the Mel and Sue sandwich.

Ma Baker: Christine - with perfect tuiles and an Alpine biscuit construction to rival 2012 Bake Off Brendan's birdhouse. Kimberley has decided to channel self-loathing and Japanese philosophy to get back in the running.

Living up to glorious middle-class stereotype: Kimberley used five different types of cherry in her tray bake. FIVE?!?!

Food history: Tottenham Football Club invented pink biscuits. Or was it the Quakers?

Mel'n'Sue watch: Sue can do a cracking dalek.  Mel failed to comfort Glenn by informing him that his tuiles were having a bunga bunga party in the oven, but she was Frances' hero/mum substitute after her biscuit tower dramatically became a biscuit pile just SECONDS before the whistle. (Or so the editing would have us believe.)

Next week: Sweet dough.  But, more importantly, does Ruby have a new hairstyle?

2013 Episode 4 – Pie Week

Last week: CUSTARDGATE.

 

This week: Pies and tarts.  As Mel and Sue sing, the bakers march in over the mini-bridge and don their aprons.  Ali, inexplicably, is also wearing a beanie hat – perhaps he is having a bad hair day.  It certainly continues his hot-in-knitwear theme. (If it worked for James Shetland...)

 

Signature bake: Double-crusted fruit pie; sweet or shortcrust pastry, filled with fruits of the baker’s choice.

 

Move over Mr Glenn, there’s a new partner in town – Kimberley’s boyfriend Giuseppe, who has disguised himself as an aviator from the 1920s.  Kimberley is making Giuseppe’s favourite - Pecan and Roseberry Caramel Apple Pie.  I wonder what Giuseppe’s Mamma thinks of that.

 

Ali discovers he’s been trying to slip clingfilm in his pie, so has to sneak it out the blender and hope for the best.  He then reveals he’s never made a fruit pie. OH SURPRISE SURPRISE.  We can add that to the list of ‘Baking Staples Ali’s Not Baked’ (see also: bread and trifle).  He’s opted for Apple and Ginger Pie with a Pecan and Walnut Shortcrust Pastry, which does sound completely delicious.  However, it turns out that Ali loathes fruit pie and finds it disgusting.  Paul takes that admission as a personal slight and Sue tells Ali she hopes his Granny Smith doesn’t have a damp bottom - which not I’m sure will help Ali’s tastebuds.  Indeed, Ali decides not to judge his flavours by taste, but by smell.  Which would be fine if it was the Great British Smell Off, AMIRIGHT?  (To highlight just how Not Fine this is, we get a shot of Paul prowling around Ali’s kitchen looking angry and judgy.  We all know what the drill will be come judging.)

 

Christine continues the rank bake chat by saying “when I pulsed my fat into the flour I got great lumps in it”.  She’s going super trad and using a recipe which belonged to her grandmother: Granny Rogers’ Apple, Plum and Cinnamon Country Pie, flavoured with allspice and nutmeg.  OH MY GOD, I WILL EAT ALL THE PIES. ME ME ME.

 

We get a look at Howard’s colleagues plugging their mouths with cake in a rather ungainly manner, whilst Howard stands above them in a super sharp shiny suit, looking uncharacteristically menacing and important.  He’s also making Apple Pie - with Sage Pastry, as well as adding sultanas and pistachios.  I find sultanas to be a food which generally lessens the deliciousness.

 

Another granny apple pie - Beca is making her Mamgu’s Cherry Apple Tart ('Mamgu' being the welsh for 'Gran').  Also it’s not really apple, as ‘Cherry Apple’ is the term Beca’s mamgu used to trick her grandchildren into eating rhubarb.  Paul is concerned about the rhubarb-related moisture, but Beca cheerfully informs Paul that her mamgu didn’t give a crap about having a soggy bottom.  Beca’s also sticking pastry alphabetti spaghetti on the top of her pie.  I have no idea what it says, but it's safe to say it's probably Welsh.

 

Ruby’s Granddad Cardi has been replaced by a Geography Teacher Elbow Pads Jumper.  Ruby's going for Apple and Marzipan Pie with dried sour cherries.  Elsewhere, Frances is (obviously) going conceptual again -  her Peach Pie In The Sky will take the form of a hot air balloon, inspired by James and the Giant Peach, and will include full peaches inside, de-stoned and re-stoned , but with almonds.  Paul claims not to have a clue what Frances is on about (it’s ROALD DAHL, Paul, it’s hardly obscure!), but it’s really just a cue for him and Mary to grumble that Frances can be all style and no substance.

 

Here’s the science bit, concentrate!  Time to head to Rob’s station (where he’s baking an Apple and Pear Pie with Thyme) for his Dry Bottoms Theorum; the key is hot hot heat, apparently.   Other bakers have other tricks: Howard is going for semolina, corn flower and icing sugar to soap up the juices, whilst Frances is using frangipane.  No word on Christine’s soggy bottom guards, as we see her merrily spooning a lumpy fruit juice soup into her pastry – I wonder where that one’s going...

 

No sign of Mr Glenn this week, but Molly the high-fiving dog is around and playing scrabble with Glenn and his friends down the pub.  She suggests “quinoa” in exchange for treats.  Glenn is making an Apple and Maple Syrup Pie, with red pastry maple leaves on top and lots of custard inside.  I believe the Canadian for that is: MMMMM HMMMM.  He’s not left enough time for the actual cooking, so his oven is on 7000 degrees.  Sue gently suggests that the brown bits on his pie might be ‘burning’.

 

Just time for a ‘dramatic’ montage of our bakers watching pastry bake.  THE TENSION.   The challenge ends with a classic Bake Off animal shot: a furious looking ewe about to charge.  But how did they do? We’ll find out in the wink of a pie!  (Did I make that ‘gag’ last year?  Very probably.)

 

Glenn hasn’t cooked his pie for long enough and Paul decides to take out all his schooldays frustrations on Glenn, by bluntly telling teacher off: “you had plenty of time to practise and you knew how long it was going to be - you shouldn’t have picked it”.   Glenn just takes it like a teacher man.

 

Kimberley has produced “one of the nicest pies” Paul has had “for some years”.   She BEAMS.

 

Although Frances’ “art work is stunning”, Paul thinks she’s “miles away from the flavour”.  Mary wanted more peaches.

 

Beca’s pie has “good colour underneath”, but there’s not enough rhubarb.  No word on Mamgu’s soggy bottom.

 

Mary thinks Rob has “a beautifully baked underneath” (!!!) and Paul thinks it’s “a nice pie”.

 

Ruby gets the Mary Berry eye-crinkle of joy: “I like that”.  So does Paul, minus the eye-crinkle.

 

Howard’s pastry is too crumbly and Mary can’t taste the sage.

 

Christine’s pie is dripping with fruit juice to the degree that not only is her bottom is soggy, but her top too.  Didn't see that one coming, oh no.

 

Ali hasn’t cooked his pastry and there’s no ginger in either spoonful one or spoonful two – the smell test has failed, can you believe it?!  Paul takes great delight in telling Ali that, next time, he needs to eat the fruit pie (that he loathes and which repulses him).

 

Animal shot #2: an expressionless duck standing up in water.  (Come on guys – don’t make an angry sheep the highlight!)

 

The Technical Challenge: Twelve custard tarts.  Paul is smiling evilly, as it’s his recipe and it’s clearly a bitch.  He describes the tarts to Mary, using the word “perfect” repeatedly.  We assume he’s therefore baked them himself.

 

Ali loves custard tarts!  But - can you believe it - he’s never made them!  Well, I’m shocked.  The bakers eye each other's tarts up suspiciously, not to sure what to do.  Frances is heating her custard, whilst most others don’t bother.  Howard confesses to Mel that’s he’s been having Bake Off dreams, but Mary and Paul are yet to feature - he doesn’t wish to be drawn as to whether he’d prefer the Hollywood or the Berry to make an appearance, but his giggle says rather more (PAUL!). 

 

Foodistory: I missed this bit as I was melting cheese onto nachos in the microwave.  Seriously.

 

Back in the technical challenge, the bakers are all kneeling desperately by their ovens looking horrified and that’s before they even get to the nightmare that is removing their tarts from the casings.  Someone (Ruby?) had foreseen the problem and put in special tabs to lift them out easily, but everyone else is having to splat out custardy crumbs and hope that the pieces will reform on the cake stand by magic.  Glenn has a mini breakdown by the freezer.  It’s just stress and disaster all round.  You can imagine Paul rubbing in his hands in glee at the smug disappointment he’s about to face.  He does so love to be smugly disappointed.

 

Ninety-six woeful tarts are placed in front of the judges.  Actually, it’s way less than that – as some bakers have only managed to make four or five.  Glenn places last, then Ali, Christine, Ruby, Howard and Kimberley.  Bronze goes to Rob, silver to Beca and gold to Frances, whose tarts weren’t actually so bad.  Turns out heating the custard helps.  I’ll remember that next time I.... oh, as if I’m ever going to make custard tarts.

 

Animal shot #3: Some sheep lying down.  Humph.

 

Show-stopper: A filo pastry pie, like a Greek spanakopita (huh?), a Moroccan pastille (whaa?) or something forged from the depths of each baker’s own brain (okaaaay). 

 

Making filo involves stretching the pastry long and wide – so thin you can read the paper through it.  But first it’s time to knead.  The bakers sweatily knuckle, rub, press, slap, smash and throw their dough - apart from Glenn who presses ‘start’ on his mixer.  Paul tells Mary to have a smackabout with Ruby’s dough – it’s clear she wants to aim it at his head.

 

Christine’s offering is a Roasted Vegetable Filo Pie with Feta Cheese; the illustration makes it look slightly like intestines.  Ruby is making Rose, Almond and Raspberry Filo Pie; the illustration makes it look slightly like sausages.  These could be accurate representations, but I’m thinking that a more likely explanation is that the Bake Off artist is finding filo a challenge.

 

Frances is using a shower cap to do... something.

 

Rob tells us he has joined a local mushroom club and it looks like he has brought the fungi of his foraging labours.  He announces, with the blank expression he has worn throughout the show, that some mushrooms can make a person dissolve.  He’s making Spanakopita with St Georges’ Mushrooms – using shop bought mushrooms.  Booo!  It’s health and safety gone mad!  He’s also calling his pie Pie-thagoras, which I’ll admit is brilliant.  He’s using four rulers sellotaped into a square to ensure the ratios are correct – it looks a bit like a homemade aerial.  Maybe it is.

 

Glenn is also making spanky-cop-tartar out of a giant sheet of filo pastry; the filling will be walnuts, with (the apparently traditional) feta and spinach.  Yes, this sounds GOOD.

 

Frances’ shower cap has been put away and we learn she’s producing a Cherry Tree Baklava Filo Pie.  It will be shaped like a tree, which frankly, is just a long tube of filo on its side, with some branchy bits (branches) and cherries (er, cherries) arranged at the top - hardly the high-end conceptual stuff we’ve come to expect of Frances.  That doesn’t stop Paul and Mary worrying that it will be all mouth and no trousers. “On your head be it!” says Mary.  I love her, but she can be a right cow, eh?!  (You know, I'm suddenly worried I might get taken to the tower for that one.)

It’s a Chicken, Bacon and Butternut Squash Pie from Kimberley; this time the filo part of the illustration is ok, but it also looks like there will be several green leeches slithering in the middle of the pie, which I don’t think is the idea – perhaps our illustrator was a wee bit hungover when he or she got to this project.

Ali and Beca have both sought inspiration from Moroccan cuisine – they love the colours and spices, and Beca was proposed to in Marrakesh.  Ali is making an Orange, Cardamom and Date M’Hanncha (translation: a snake cake).  He needs two metres for his pastry, which he will roll into a long tube, then spiral up.  It sounds INSANE.  Beca is going for a Moroccan Vegetable Filo Feast.  She and Kimberley are both using long thin sticks to roll out their dough.  Kimberley explains that it’s “an oklava” which is “a traditional Turkish rolling pin”.  Beca tells us she’s using a “home-made broomstick”.

 

Glenn has made a pastry tablecloth.  Elsewhere there are turf wars, as Ali starts his two metre odyssey and Kimberley finds herself with a ball of filo dough and nowhere to roll.   She’s allowed into the hallowed judges’ area to get her roll on, using her oklava, no less.

 

Sue bounds about trying to help.  Beca looks horrified at Sue's offer to help her roll and Rob flusters Sue away, politely but firmly; he’s very behind schedule – having lost half an hour ‘cleaning his mushrooms’.  However, Sue is allowed to help Howard with his Fresh Fig and Feta Filo Flan, which he needs to get out of the ring mould.  Mel joins in too and the three of them team up to Free Howard’s Ring.  Each armed with a slice, they carefully lift up his pie and - *bated breath* - place it on the table with no dropping!  PHEW.

 

Time, gentlemen, please.  But who has the bestest pie?

 

Paul and Mary LOVE Kimberley’s bake, which is “absolutely beautiful” and “the whole lot comes together as one big explosion in the mouth, which just tastes and looks fantastic”.

Rob isn’t worried that his spanakopita not cooked (not that you can tell from his entirely expressionless face) – but it turns out that it was underbaked with a soggy bottom.  He whispers “disaster”, which totally counts as an action-packed emotional outburst.

 

Frances gets a told-you-so from the judges – her tree’s not baked and they patronisingly and predictably tell her that style has overpowered substance.  To be frank, I don’t believe them.

 

Christine’s pie broke into pieces in the oven, but she has good “stunning flavours and a good bake”.

 

OK, it’s not the illustrator – Ruby’s pie does look like sausages.  As the judges chomp on her pie, she looks constipated with nerves, but Paul proclaims “that is beautiful”.  In the distance, Kimberley picks up her Turkish rolling pin.

 

Mary isn’t sure that Beca’s got the right mix of veg.  Paul agrees – he thinks it’s like mash potato.  Filo and mash – what’s not to like?

 

Howard gets the Mary Berry ‘I Like That’, though no eye-crinkle.

 

Glenn’s Spanakopita has lovely layers and a crisp bottom.  Paul loves it.  Ali looks on forebodingly.  But Ali’s snake cake is crispy too and “tastes good”, even if it could have done with added pistachios.

 

Tis done.

No animal shots, but a camera pan over the lake, as the judges gather in the back tent to deliberate.  They moot Kimberley and Ruby as the possible star bakers again, whilst it’s Glenn and Ali in the potential firing lane.  Time to find out who’s getting the Mel and Sue sandwich...

Ma baker: Kimberley FINALLY.  I think there would have been some serious oklava-related violence if she hadn’t won it this time.  Truly deserved.

 

Leaving: Ali’s beanie hat.  He’s very sad and doesn’t seem to enjoy the Mel and Sue sarnie much.  But everyone’s really miserable to see him go.  Howard's face crumples like an over-tired toddler and he actually sheds a tear.  Christine tells Ali that if he doesn’t keep in touch, she’ll kill him.  She may have trouble without his address.

Next time: A Giant Dalek Biscuit.  Wonder who’s making that one...

 

2013 Mini blog. Week 4 - Pies

Bye bye:  Oh Ali. Farewell this year's hottie in knitwear. It didn't help that Ali had never made fruit pie. Or bread. Or trifle. It's amazing he got this far really.

Ma Baker: FINALLY Kimberley is crowned!  I think there would have been spatulas at dawn if she hadn't.  She can celebrate with boyfriend Guiseppe, an aviator from the 1920s.

Living up to glorious middle-class stereotype: Christine bakes her granny’s apple pie every week, but Rob foraged his own box of mushrooms.

Food history: I missed this bit as I was melting cheese onto nachos in the microwave.

Mel'n'Sue watch: A three way with Howard who needed help manoeuvring his ring. Operation Remove Filo From Casing was a fortunate success - with Howard's track record, there was no guarantee.

Pun fun: PIE-thagoras. Mel was so impressed.

Next week: Biscuits. CRUNCH TIME. Etc.

2013 Episode 3 – Dessert Week

Last week: Bready byes to horticulturalist Lucy.  Bringing in her own her own yeast (mutated from an apple in her garden) wasn’t enough to sex up Lucy’s loaf and she failed to heed Berrywood’s warnings that taking four hours to plonk six tomatoes on a round bread ball wasn’t going to be enough to Stop the Show. Ruby robbed Kimberley of Star Baker Success by baking about as well, but appearing WAY more stressed.  Rob produced a bread octopus.

This week: Desserts

Signature bake: Trifle; defined layers of sponge, biscuit, fruit, custard, peas, beef, onions, jelly. But really, it’s all about the lady fingers.

After a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shot of Ali dressed as a poker-playing rapper at home with his entourage, middle-class comfort is restored as we cut back to the tent and see he’s wearing hipster NHS specs and some red James Shetland knitwear.  We also notice that Ali is, errr, rather attractive – something which had entirely passed me by until now.  Having never made bread before Bread Week, Ali, we learn, has no previous trifle experience either, so he’s topping his Coconut, Raspberry and Lemon Meringue Trifle with macaroons, which he apparently has made in the past.  It seems unlikely that will be enough to trick the judges in a TRIFLE challenge, but let’s admire his resolve.  And he’s hot, remember.

Teacher Glenn’s ‘At Home VT’ once again features Mr Glenn and also introduces their adorable doggie, trained to high-five for cake scraps.  Back in the tent, we are not surprised to learn that Glenn is not one for a traditional lady finger.  He’s piping out spirals instead for a Raspberry and Almond Trifle, which he’s pretending he’s not nicked from Mary Berry. 

Deborah Dentist is just eschewing lady fingers altogether, with lemon swiss rolls at the bottom of her Tropical Trifle.  Deborah’s using her own curd, and as I don’t really know what curd is, the notion of using your own curd to do anything repulses me, frankly.  Deborah tells the judges that she’s going to spray Cointreau on to her sponge and pops out a spray can filled with alcohol.  Everyone has a go on the aerosol, directly spraying liquor to throat, communal glue sniffing-style.  (Mel has several sprays.  No sign of Sue, who I’m assuming has already passed out behind Deborah’s kitchen station.) 

In other booze news, Christine is producing a Caribbean Pina Colada Trifle, so yet more excellent eighties throwback action.  Loving your work Christine.

Ruby’s Desert Island Trifle (a tropical concoction of rum, cardamom, bananas, strawbs and mango) will have sponge palm trees stuck against the sides.   Well, that’s the plan - she’s failed to practice on account of having Philosophy degree exams to take.  She hasn’t had time to Fabreeze her granddad cardie either, but – frankly – is too beautiful for it to matter.  Ruby could wear rags and look good.  She could wear bin bags and look good.  She could wear Mary’s neon lime jacket and... actually, no, only Bezza can 'get away' with that one.

There’s a Ginger Zone forming at the back of the tent.  Beca is making an Orange and Ginger Trifle, Kimberley is opting for a Peach, Almond and Ginger Trifle, and Mark is the gingery-est of all, with three types of ginger in his Ginger, Mango and Passion Fruit Trifle.  Beca seems pretty peeved that she’s not alone in picking the VERY COMMON BAKING FLAVOUR that is ginger, but maybe it is an unusual and dangerously exotic choice in the valleys.

Mel tells us that some bakers are opting for jelly, others for jam, which must be particularly confusing for American viewers.  Howard, making a Caramel and Apple trifle, is curling his lip at jelly, whilst Beca is insisting it’s not a real trifle without it.  Beca pulls rank by informing viewers that she was brought up on trifle, because it’s officially eaten at every dinner in West Wales after a roast for mains.  (I totally believe her.)  Howard’s authority is not helped by a shot of him running around a tower block; demonstrating a unique style of movement whilst claiming to be a “keen jogger”. 

We barely have to time to recover from Howard’s exertions before we’re treated to more active footage – this time of Kimberley salsa dancing.  Kimberley demonstrates a salsa step which involves bowing whilst making train wheel motions on each side and pushing the hem of your top down, which is not a move my Zumba teacher has taught me yet.  Back in the kitchen, Kimberley puts all her salsa flirtation into practice and seduces Sue by feeding her honeycomb.

Apart from Glenn, who thinks he’s scrambled his custardy eggs and Mark, who can’t fit square cake into a round bowl (no worries Mark, toddlers have the same trouble), it all seems to be going quite well at this stage.  Which signals certain disaster must be around the corner.  We’re then treated to a sequence in which Mary loudly praises Howard for making his custard from pure egg yolk and no cornflower, with multiple reiterations of “HOWARD’S NOT USING CORNFLOWER” and “HOWARD IS THE BRAVEST ONE HERE”.  

OH THAT’S NOT OMINOUS, AT ALL IS IT? NOT AT ALL. OHHH NO.

Except, of course, it is.  Massively.

Welcome to CUSTARDGATE.

1. Howard innocently wonders where he has left his custard.
2. Deborah Dentist looks like she’s having a breathless panic attack and is hyperventilating.  Her over-plucked eyebrows have disappeared under her sparsely high cut fringe. 
3. Sue asks Deborah if she’s ok.
4. She immediately folds and confesses to custard theft – she picked the wrong bowl from the fridge and used Howard’s custard instead of her own.  She looks MORTIFIED.
5. On hearing Deborah’s confession, Howard chuckles away in the background – last week Sue elbowed his muffin and that was a good omen, so a nicked custard has got to be a GREAT sign.
6. Deborah manages not to cry and spends the rest of the episode looking harassed and rushing around like a headless chicken, desperately getting Howard any ingredients or tools he says he needs to complete his bakes.
7. Howard continues to chuckle in the background, making up mythological utensils for Deborah to bring him, clearly having a whale of a time.

Bring forth the judges!

Ruby’s palm trees have worked and she’s commended for her coconut flavour.  Glenn’s made another giant dessert which makes terrifying suction noises, but there’s praise for his crème pat and the soaking of his sponge.  Kimberley’s trifle has “very good” layers.  The custard layer of Rob’s Rhubarb and Orange Trifle is “rather thick” (which Mary says like it’s a bad thing - WAAH?!) and his rhubarb has been overpowered.  The layers in Mark’s trifle don’t really meld and his custard isn’t great.  Frances, who didn’t really feature til now, has made an Apple and Blackberry Crumble (and gets my first craving points) but the judges think it’s “over-decorated”.  Beca has “lovely” jelly, but “slack” custard.  Paul struggles to diss Ali’s offering (it’s over-filled, tis all) and Christine gets the best praise of all – a simple “superb”.  Deborah was right to steal Howard’s custard, which the judges like very much.  His trifle, however, has layer issues, probably not helped by Deborah’s custard, which was too liquid – Mary told-you-sos her that cornflower is the problem there.

Foodistory: Erm. Trifles used to be posh but now they’re common and Mel eats a jellied calf foot WITHOUT GAGGING.  (Can you tell I basically pay no attention to these bits?)

The Technical Challenge: Iles Flottantes (‘floating islands’). Little tiny poached meringues in a sea of crème anglaise, topped with spun sugar. 

As usual, the instructions are limited and the bakers all have a general mare working out how to, well, do any of it – whether successfully meringuing their eggs, creating a sufficiently stiff meringue, spooning out the right size iles in the right shape - known as “quenelling” (*makes Scrabble note*), poaching the lot in hot milk, using the leftover milk and cream scraps to make crème anglaise (seriously) or trying to successfully spin sugar by flicking it over a wooden spoon.  Surprise, surprise Ali’s never made this dessert before – but he has both SEEN and EATEN it.  Wowsers.

Judging by Mary’s demo, Iles Flottantes should look like mozzarella balls in watery-milk juice with some crispy orange bath plug hair sprinkled over the top – but in a delicious sweet way.  Howard has under-poached and his iles look like cottage cheese balls.  He decides his meringues are insufficiently stiff and will start again.  Elsewhere, Glenn is making spun sugar using the “Wiggling between two dangly things technique” whilst Ali notices that Beca has “quite big ones", innocently ploughing on to then refer to her "big quenelles”.  We all die snarffing.

The blind judging puts Mark last, just below Beca’s big ones.  Deborah is ninth (her sauce was too gluey), behind Frances, who’s behind Howard, who’s behind Kimberley.  At the higher end, Ali is fifth, Christine and Ruby take four and three, with Glenn just sneaking ahead of Rob.  Glenn is chuffed to bits – and so he should be!  Rob does his fleeting micro smile again, so is also clearly delighted and dancing on the inside.  It's ok Rob, you can bust out a celebratory twerk if you want to!

Show-stopper: Twenty-four Petits Fours. Twelve biscuit-base and twelve sponge-based.  All bitesized. Three hours.  Go!

Glenn’s worrying that his tendency to Go Big is going to thwart him.  He’s making Billionaire Bouchées and Orange Financiers, which involves kumquat (meh) and nutty butter (HELLO).

Christine is producing Sachertorte Parcels and something she’s calling “Christine’s Ninety Niners”, which is only thirty away from the rudest bake ever.  She’s also using a pointy wooden cone-making tool her husband made her.  Let’s not dwell.  (But good on ‘em!)

Ruby’s making Lemon Shortbread and White Chocolate Seashells and Blackberry and Chocolate Layer Cakes.  Paul and Mary quiz her on her presentation plans; she’s going to wing it. (Those blighted Philosophy mods!  Do UCL not realise that she has bakes to prep!)

Frances’ ‘Ballet Bites’ Ginger Nutcrackers and Sugar Plum Fairy Cakes are inspired by the Tchaikovsky ballet – she’s going to present them on a cake stand with a vinyl record as the top layer.  NICE.

Howard’s also going concept, with an après-dinner theme: Black Coffee and Cardamom Cake and White Stilton and Pear Biscuits.  DOUBLE NICE.

We cut to Mark pouring the nation’s recommended monthly sugar intake into a bowl whilst whistling.  He’s opted for Rose and Pistachio Macaroons and Chocolate and Raspberry Bites.  Paul quizzes him on his chilling and resting plans – that’s in terms of his bake, not in general.  Mark replies confidently that a half hour rest will be fine.  Paul gives him the stare, so we all know how that’s going to go.

Beca has made extra petits petits fours to go atop her petit fours and shows off PERFECT mini macaroons  (like teeny purple burgers) which will sit on her Limocello and Blueberry Bursts, which will accompany some Millionaire Shortbread.

Over on the other side, karma’s turned up to act like the bitch she is.  Deborah’s Canelé Cherry and Chocolate Cakes aren’t coming out of the mould and her stress levels, already high, are in need of some serious Mel’n’Sue soothing.  Sue saunters over as Deborah begins some Beautiful Mind style murmurings about needing a “narrow cutter”.  “WHAT KIND OF CUTTER?” Sue unhelpfully booms, before accusing of Deborah stealing from Howard again and suggesting Howard set up some barbed wire around his kitchen.  I can imagine Brendan watching at home, thinking ‘I wish I’d had that idea’ and ‘I both loathe and love you Sue’.

Mark is also having a crapper – his bakes have overinflated and instead of macaroons, he’s produced a tray of comedy rubber boobs.  There’s no disguising that, he tells Sue.  She heartily agrees.  Where’s Mel Good Cop!?!?!

Who knows – let’s let the dramatic orchestral music play as we all enjoy a ‘last minute touches’ montage.  Rob finally makes an appearance, brow fuddled with intense concentration, but we’ll have to wait for judging to know what he’s made.  And so....

To the judge-mobile!

Glenn had trouble with his gold leaf, which stuck to his fingers rather than his petits fours.  Paul tells him off for making a petit four which is TOO SMALL. (!!!!!!!)  Mary says “it’s not a brilliant shortbread”, but Paul “loves it”.

Mary thinks Christine's cones look “tempting” and are “scrummy” and sounds of “mmmmm” ring out from everyone, Paul included.

Up comes Mark and Paul is delighted to inform him that he should have rested his macaroons for more than twenty minutes.  Berrywood like the flavour, but think the macaroons “look hideous”.  As for his bites, Paul says he’d have sent them back to the kitchen and asked for the chef – I’m assuming that’s not a good thing.

Ali has just made a shortbread biscuit with decoration on top, thinks Mary.  Paul finds the offering too sweet.

Kimberley is informed by Mary that she’s produced “a very good chocolate cake – not improved by the topping.”  Ooooh, BURN.  (Erm - not literally.)  But she does get flavour praise.

Rob, we discover, has made Almond Friands and Turon Macaroons, which look “remarkably professional”.  Paul adds that they are “delicious” using that husky guttural throat voice he reserves for extra excellent work and seducing younger, glamorous co-workers unaware of his wife.

Howard is worried that the pear circles on top of his cheesy bics look like onion rings, but it’s the limited cheese that Mary’s displeased by.

Again Frances scores well on presentation and this time her flavour also gets complimented!

Ruby looks ever-worried, but Paul says “that’s lovely” and Mary tells her “that’s a bit of all right”, which is my favourite Bezza feedback of all time.  Turns out winging it isn’t the greatest sin known to bakerkind.

Up comes Deborah – who has had, let’s face it, pretty much the worst week to date – theft or no theft.  She looks utterly miserable.  Mary kindly responds with a death glare and Paul calls her offering “a bit of a mess”.  Mary then adds that her scarlet Rose Cookies are “too bright”, which is an AMAZING comment from a woman in a fluorescent jacket (honestly, my Twitter timeline went into meltdown).  To perk Deborah up (by which I mean ‘kick whilst she’s down’) Paul says her cookies are “bone dry”.  They’re slightly nicer about the taste of her chocolates “if you don’t look at them too closely”.

By contrast Beca gets showered with praise for the look of her petit fours and her “weenie macaroons”, which are “technically perfect”.  The judges love the flavours too.  Beca is well chuffed.  Deborah looks on the brink of collapse.

Just some time for Sue and Mel to gather in the judges’ backstage tent area, take a throwaway comment from Mary and turn it into in some grade A gossip about Paul and Bezza getting it ORN, before it’s time for the bakers to squeeze onto a line of stools, shoulders a-barging, and hear their fate.

Ma baker: Christine!  Pina Colada Success.  Mary does lurve the booze.

Mel and Sue sandwich: Mark and Deborah are both leaving this week – it’s no real surprise, and at least it wasn’t down to theft, but rather to cruddy baking.  Am sure that will be a soothing balm of relief.

Pun watch: A classic week for innuendo (“Let’s get those lady fingers soggy”) and the pun of all puns from la Perkins: “SHOULD DEBORAH BE TAKEN INTO CUSTARDY?”  I know I shouldn’t have laughed, but come on!  Even better though was Mary response: “You are a fool” and then a grudging “well done”.

Missed pun-portunity: After the ‘custardy’ thing?  Are you kidding me?!  Nah, they got them all in this week – no question.

Next time: Pie aye. Soggy bottoms ahoy!

2013 Mini blog. Week 3 - Desserts

Bye bye bye bye: Kitchen Fitter Mark and Dentist/Thief Deborah.  Mark was generally a bit rubbish really.  Thieving aside, (more on that later, viewers) Deborah's rose-flavoured petits fours were just too bright and garishly red - according to the judge in the NEON LIME blazer.
 
Ma Baker: Christine! For continuing her eighties crusade with a pina colada-inspired dessert. The moral of that story: always feed Mary Berry a booze trifle.

Living up to glorious middle-class stereotype: Mark may have his own free range chickens, but Frances based her petits fours on a Tchaikovsky ballet, so...

CUSTARDGATE: Oh. What. Dramz. No blue plasters in the offing, but something FAR MORE SHOCKING occurred in the tent.  ACTUAL THEFT!  Yes indeed - Howard's fridge area was scandalously burglarised.  The way Deborah tells it, she 'accidentally' took Howard's custard from the fridge because she 'forgot' which bowl she'd used.  Yeah yeah.  Though, to be fair, her mortification looked entirely genuine – especially when Howard’s custard was deemed far superior.  As for Howard, he just took it in his stride (he is, after all, a keen jogger), much like when he got his muffin elbowed.  What a guy.

Upshot: The whole thing led to the worst (best) baking pun of all time: “Will Deborah be taken into CUSTARDY?”  100% worth it.

Baking craving: Howard's cheese petit fours with the onion rings on top. I jest. I'll have Glenn's technical challenge winning île flottante please.

Giedroyc's Food History: She ate a jellied pig's trotter. Without gagging.

Bake Off Innuendo: was BACK!  References to rude sounding things all over the shop: soggy lady fingers, Howard getting stiff and, best of all, Ali pointing out “Beca's big ones”.

Next week: Pie Aye!

2013 Mini blog. Week 2 - Bread

Bye bye: YOU DIDN'T HEED THE WARNING, LUCY!  And lo, it was inevitable. Even Sue joined Paul and Mary in gently suggesting that spending four hours on a simple round loaf with tomatoes plonked on top might not quite stop the show or seal the deal, but Lucy plowed on – her tomato and garlic bread looked tasty enough, but not a twirl, plait or animal shape in sight.  Booooring.

Ma baker: Ruby Ruby Ruby! Looking ever shell-shocked in her hipster grandad cardigan. Cue a few bitchy cutaway shots of Kimberley, as she tried her best to look rilly rilly pleased for her new pal Rubes, whilst internally monologuing: 'This is an outrage! I made a blimmin' Middle East Crisis solving peacebread! How's a doughy peacock going to deal with the UN's issues? That's it! Sod this effortless poise and total control, next week I'm busting out the sympathy-inducing stress tears and some effing edible sparkles.'

Living up to glorious middle-class stereotype: Lucy will take Rob's mushroom-foraging and Howard's watercolours-by-the-lake and raise you 'growing her own yeast using an apple from her garden'. Hang on... She grew her own whaaa?! From a whaaa?! Wowsers. Time to step up, bakers. That's one middle-class legacy to live up to.

Baking craving: Pretty much all the showstoppers. Yes, even Ali's chocolate and tikka ying and yang loaf. Tikka – yum, chocolate – yum. What's not to like?  And let's not forget Frances' matchsticks/breadsticks, complete with cardboard matchbox and blowtorched chocolate matchheads. Flavour schmavour – they looked brilliant.

Perkins' food history: Muffin men were a real thing – loud wacky characters who wandered the streets trying garner attention and money. Basically, the chuggers of their day, until the police were invented and ASBOed the lot of them for excessive bell ringing.

Blue plaster alert: Injury free this week, but quite a few breadsticks dropped on the floor. I get the feeling you can't apply the three second rule when you're on camera.

Mel and Sue-watch: Not their most supportive of weeks, as Mel tried to kill Rob with a laser whilst Sue took an elbow to Howard's muffin. Oh, on that note - more baking innuendo please. My Nice Buns Bingo Card is looking a bit empty.

Next week: Just Desserts. Trifles, floating islands and petit fours (apart from Glenn who is planning ENORME ones).

2013 Mini blog. Week 1.

Bye bye: Lovely lovely Dylan Moran-alike Toby. *sigh*  Using salt in the technical challenge was one thing, but, for Paul and Mary, over-baking his choc cake was a mess up too far.  Toby just about held back the tears, but it was still very upsetting, especially when he threatened to quit baking.  (Before he remembered the upside of baking: CAKE.)

Ma Baker: Space engineer Rob – a mild man who gave but a brief smile of acknowledgement at the Star Baker announcement.  However, it was clear that, on the inside, he was performing a full-on Brazilian samba of victory complete with feather headdress and bejeweled party outfit.

Living up to glorious middle-class stereotype: Lucy was inspired by cardamom after a trip to Injyah and grows her own rhubarb.  Of course she was/does.  However, she also turned out to be rather cool and looks bloody excellent in a denim jacket, so not quite the GROLIE I'd feared. Yay!

Special mention: Glenn’s husband. BOOM. #equalmarriage

Baking craving: a fairly disappointing selection perhaps – a lack of general finesse and too many messily decorated giant cakes for me. (Though, can a cake ever be too big?) Time, pressure and over-ambition got to them.  I have to confess that I did like the look of Christine's hat though.  I'm now hoping for an eighties revival this season - let Brendan's legacy of dated cakes live on.  Maybe some marzipan shoulder pads and a giant mobile phone made of butter-iced sponge.

Mel is the BEST: more than happy to re-enact the ghost pottery scene with Toby – “front or back, I’m easy” - before adding some hazelnut testicles to Frances' squirrel (not a euphemism).

Blue plaster alert: TOTAL CARNAGE. Fingers and thumbs strewn all over the tent.

Next week: Bread.  Inevitable plaiting tangles and Hollywood scornballs.