Delightfully quirky hosts Mel and Sue provide comic relief
in the form of corny culinary and occasional off-color quips. They take turns
having “the happy privilege of announcing this week’s star baker” to the
apron-clad contestants nervously awaiting their fate. When Mary and Paul
determine the person “to whom we must sadly say goodbye,” there’s an outpouring
of hugs, tears, and promises to stay in touch. It’s all very British and
genteel—until it’s not. (More on “Bingate” later.)
Not only do the bakers come to feel like family after we see
clips of them with their loved ones and colleagues at home and at work, but
watching them create sweet and savory delicacies from scratch is the icing on
the cake. If you’re counting carbs this may not be the show for you, but if you
have a pinch of self-control it’s a great way to indulge your cravings
vicariously. It can also be pure torture. While the competitors labor to
produce the perfect Black Forest gateau or quintessentially British Bakewell
tart, I press pause and scour my kitchen for something—anything—sweet.
Handsome blue-eyed Paul Hollywood, dubbed the Queen of Mean
by Mel, can reduce a baker to tears with the words, “that’s a mess” or simply,
“it’s a shame,” while grandmotherly Mary Berry almost always finds something
positive to say. After tasting one of lovely Ugne’s Lithuanian cottage cheese
cookies, Paul looked her in the eye and declared, “I don’t like it.” As she
struggled to hide her disappointment, he admitted, “I love it.” Mary’s harshest
critique, meanwhile, may have been, “it’s a bit under baked, and the raspberry
is bleeding into the sponge.” She distains a “soggy bottom” but her
pronouncement of “scrummy” is highest praise.
I can now toss around culinary gems like genoise or crème
patissiere (crème pat, to those in the know). Thanks to GBBS, I’ve added a
wealth of colorful British expressions to my vocabulary. Aerospace engineer and
Cambridge-educated Andy, who skipped graduation to practice for the Season 4
quarter-final, was “really really chuffed” when Paul liked his marjolaine. And to
console Chetna--dismayed at having received a less than stellar review--Paul said,
“don’t lose your rag” over this. “Fiddly” ingredients, I found out, are particularly
difficult to work with, and the bakers are forever “whacking” things into the
oven, which is not nearly as violent as it sounds.
Realistically, I’ll probably never make any of the petit
fours, mini pear tarts, biscotti, or Victoria sandwich cakes myself. I can whip
up a “cracking” carrot cake and my apple crisp is legendary, at least among my
family. But when an early attempt at baking a German Chocolate cake with my
teenage daughter went horribly wrong, I hung up my measuring spoons for good. I
suspect Belfast-born Iain, following the infamous Baked Alaska meltdown of
Season 2, could relate.
After a rival contestant inexplicably removed his ice cream
extravaganza from the freezer on a hot summer day, poor Iain, in a fit of
frustration, dumped the entire mess in the bin and stormed off. He was, unfortunately,
eliminated as he had nothing to show the judges. The culprit, claiming illness,
never returned to the tent.
Not all episodes are so fraught with drama, and one
disastrous outcome does not automatically spell dismissal. (Spoiler alert: Despite
her walnut cake placing last in a technical challenge, Nadiya went on to become
the Season 3 winner and a minor celebrity herself. The following year she was
asked to bake the Queen’s 90th-birthday cake.)
I was rooting for 17-year-old Martha from Season 1, who
smiled through her tears and was so supportive of her fellow bakers that I was
crushed when she was sent home. And how could you not love Richard, the rosy-cheeked
builder with two adorable little girls, whose self-effacing humor made everyone
laugh. I emailed my relative in South London that I was hooked on the show. She
wrote back to admit, “it’s been a bit of a viewing highlight for us
over the years,” adding “it sounds a bit sad.”
It seems we’re
in excellent company. The Great British Bake Off, as it’s called overseas, is
one of the most popular programs in the U.K.
In the comfort of your own kitchen you can recreate some classics
from the first season by borrowing “The Great British Bake Off: Big Book of
Baking” by Linda Collister. For the truly inspired, there’s “The Great British
Bake Off: How to Turn Everyday Bakes into Showstoppers.” It’s full of
mouthwatering photos and recipes for afternoon teas, bake sales, lunches with
friends as well as scrummy desserts for dinner parties, birthdays, and other
festive occasions. It also contains ideas for creating gorgeous garnishes using
chocolate curls, spun sugar, and elegant piping to achieve that wow-factor
every time.
Whether you’re Michaelangelo with a mixer or more of an
armchair baker like myself, I challenge you to check out any of GBBS’s five
seasons on DVD and not end up binge-watching the entire series—or just plain
bingeing.
