Cooking up a storm
When half a dozen stars, a couple of judges, and two comedians get together for a right royal bake off, things are bound to get crazy, and Bridget Jones has a front row seat.
Celerity shenanigans in the Bake Off kitchen
‘S..., my biscuits.’’ It’s not the first – or last – time someone will scream that this morning. I’m behind the scenes of The Great Kiwi Bake Off Top Secret Celebrity Christmas Charity Special (though I’m sure there’s a snappier title).
The secrecy is high.
By now, you all know who is lining up behind the famous Great Kiwi Bake Off benches – Toni Street, Dave Fane, Bree Tomasel, Jackie van Beek, Art Green, and Paula Bennett – but rewind to the depths of winter, and at the time of filming, these six names were more secret than the identity of the next Bachelorette (spoiler: she’s definitely not in the tent whipping up cakes).
It’s early and there are no delicious smells filling the air here at Kelliher Estate. There’s just a lingering scent from the nearby wastewater treatment plant that borders Puketutu Island in the Manukau Harbour.
And, by the looks of things, this is going to be a chilly Christmas, with the winter coats only being removed as the celebrities walk through the door. Ah, the magic of (well-lit) television.
The tent though, looks exactly like it does on the telly, with six identical benches lined up perfectly, surrounded by fancy sponsored fridges, computer screens, shiny cake mixers, working ovens, and everything else you could imagine a kitchen would have.
And then you take a good look around. Lining the walls of the tent, it’s a lot less culinary.
A dozen or so crew, all bundled up in winter clothes (because they don’t have to pretend it’s the middle of summer), watch eagerly.
There’s more excitement in the air than usual. Executive producer Greg Heathcote, who spends his time perched behind a wall of monitors, yelling instructions to the camera people, and trading quips with the famous people, is surprised we’ve got to this point.
‘‘We got them all on set and makeup on their faces,’’ he says, trading a high five with the makeup artist.
As if on cue, the cameras roll and the celebrities march through the doors, in pairs, before nabbing a bench each.
‘‘This is a kitchen!’’ Paula Bennett, deputy leader of the National Party, and leader of the animal print appreciation party, exclaims.
‘‘What did you think we’d be cooking in, Paula?’’ Bree Tomasel is raring to go. There’s been a bit made about her ‘‘feud’’ with Bennett after the ZM radio host announced to listeners earlier in the year that fighting the MP was, bizarrely, on her bucket list.
Now, they are going to battle things out in the kitchen, which is maybe not what either of them had in mind, but at least it adds a layer of tension.
‘‘It’s going to be fun, not as tense as usual,’’ host Madeleine Sami says, moments before Heathcote called action.
Her co-host, Hayley Sproull agrees. The dedication, not just the baking, might be a bit uneven today.
‘‘Some are going to take this very seriously and others aren’t,’’ she says.
It’s time for the pair to get to work. Suddenly, out of nowhere, they are joined at the front of the tent by judges Sue Fleischl and Dean Brettschneider.
Like four teachers trying to wrangle the kids on the last day of term, they finally get the attention of the six bakers.
Action is yelled again from the corner, and Sproull and Sami spar with each other, bouncing jokes around as they welcome the contestants and explain the premise of the day: two bakes, then the winner walks away with $30,000 for their charity.
The stakes are a little higher than the other version of this show, where the winner heads home with a glass cake stand. Now, there’s cash and egos involved. But, on the surface, everyone seems very friendly . . . for now.
Fleischl announces the first recipe – I’m not going to spoil it, but if you want a hint, the air will be thick with golden syrup in about 30 minutes. There are appropriate oohs and ahhs from the benches, and then it’s ready, set, pretend bake.
Don’t worry, the stars eventually get their hands dirty, but in the world of TV, things are never as they seem.
While they fluff around with flour and measuring cups, looking like they know what they’re doing, it’s decided they have to redo their entrance into the tent, and the speil from the hosts and judges needs a bit of tweaking, so we do it all again. Then, the stopwatch is set and the clock starts counting down for an hour and 45 minutes of baking.
That is, once they all get a quick lesson on how to use the fancy stove tops.
Wait. Bennett needs her glasses to read the instructions. And those glasses are back inside the homestead, leaving her, well, pretty useless. The crew scrambles into action, and soon the politician is back in the game.
Now she can see again, Bennett is keeping her eyes on van Beek at the bench in front of her. She says it’s always the quiet ones you have to watch.
Behind her, Brettschneider is threatening Art Green with a chef’s knife.
‘‘If I see any paleo baking . . .’’ Green assures him this is a full-sugar experience. He’s a TV host now,
The stakes are a little higher than the other version of this show, where the winner heads home with a glass cake stand. Now, there’s cash and egos involved. But, on the surface, everyone seems very friendly . . . for now.
he can’t risk an angry judge ruining his moneymaking face!
‘‘How do you cream something,’’ he asks the universe once they’ve left his station.
Speaking to the judges out of earshot of the contestants, even they have different approaches to today.
Brettschneider is staunch when I suggest there might be some leniency for the famous folk today.
‘‘No, no, no, no,’’ he says. In fact, he’s on high alert for some sneaky tricks from these professional storytellers. He’s expecting savviness when it comes to emotional back stories, and descriptions that pull on the old heartstrings.
‘‘I’m trying to be a little more lighthearted about it,’’ Fleischl says, firmly pulling on her good cop hat.
‘‘When they spin a good yarn . . . well, we’re here for a charity event. They’re not here to be good bakers, they’re here for a good cause.’’
Dave Fane is definitely not at risk of being pegged as a good baker. He’s too busy laughing at how he ended up here, but he is also the first to actually start baking. He has no clue what he’s doing, and based on the giggles from behind the gallery, it’s exactly what the bosses were after.
Meanwhile, Bennett is certainly making her presence known. She’ll belt out a lively version of a Roxette classic before the bake is over but, right now, she is on her knees digging out her scales from under the bench, chucking trays and bowls out of the way.
‘‘It’s a lot noisier than normal,’’ director Heathcote says, almost to himself.
Finally, about 20 minutes into the bake, the tent goes perfectly silent, save for the sound of spoons smacking against bowls and a few heavy sighs.
It’s almost as though this is a competition worth winning. But it doesn’t last long, of course.
‘‘You’ve got a big fat nozzle,’’ Toni Street shouts to absolutely nobody in particular. She’s clearly a baker, and clearly someone who likes to do well.
But, maybe surprisingly, New Zealand’s sweetheart is one of the biggest trash talkers in the kitchen.
‘‘Dave’s only being nice to you cos he doesn’t see you as competition,’’ she quips to Tomasel. Savage, Street. Savage.
Behind her, Fane and Tomasel are indeed busy making trouble rather than something edible, as they do their best to sidetrack the rest of the tent, while Bennett and Green have formed a particularly unusual alliance, bonding over sneaky food mixer tips.
In amongst it all, Jackie van Beek is diligently going about her work at the front of the class. Soon, Sami is called in to chat to (or distract) her old friend. The pair have worked together for years, including on The Breaker Upperers.
Not to be beaten after two whole series of
The Great Kiwi Bake Off, Sproull chimes in, and soon she and van Beek are fighting for Sami’s love.
It’s hard to tell if anyone is actually going to finish anything for the judges, who have managed to escape the madness, as this a blind taste test.
The clock is always king in reality TV cooking competitions and, finally, the hosts call time on weirdness, just as Tomasel is doing something strange with a potted plant.
‘‘Who’s on dishes?’’ Green’s question is an important one and before I start to look like an easy target, I scream down the driveway and away from the rubber gloves, washing up, and some very messy cooks, who are all, suddenly, full of the competitive, rather than Christmas, spirit.
The Great Celebrity Kiwi Bake Off screens on TVNZ 2 tomorrow, at 7pm.