‘I’m in a cake sweat’ Paul declares, with a smile and a wipe of the lips...but tension is building
the salted caramel creation with burnished shards of butterscotch rising out of its innards that my photographer colleague Jonathan had eyeballed when we arrived.
The lady next to me is concerned. Her lifesize chocolate tree stump – a new spin on the chocolate log – would not be out of place in the Disney props department.
IT EVEN has perfect edible mushrooms and a set of “food-safe lights”. But Paul only tastes the bottom layer. “He hasn’t tried the other flavour, the peanut layers,” she cries exasperated. I hail Melissa’s brother, Scott, who also works in the family pub, to correct this oversight. But Paul has moved on to other plates.
“It’s a late entry!” cries a little boy, to a big smile from Paul, as a life-size koala cake complete with homemade bamboo shoots and textured fur makes its way above the crowds massing around the pub door.
A murmur goes around the room from the bakers, many of whom have made absolutely exquisite grownup cakes with sugar shards, carefully iced peaks, and other edible intricacies that show real talent rather than ostrich feathers, bamboo shoots.
“It’s a game changer,” says a man behind me. But in fact, it’s not. Paul cuts a slice from its pert bottom and moves on to the next plate.
And then it’s time for the judging. The three shortlisted cakes have been carefully analysed, and the knives are out. “That one’s out of a mould,” says one unimpressed competitor.
Paul turns over the label on the caramel or cake. “Who’s Luke?” says to the crowd.
A young man in a red checked shirt puts up his hand. “You’ve won, mate,” says the king of cake. Luke Burston, a Smarden resident who made four attempts at his butterscotch shards after the first lot went floppy, receives a signed Celebrity Bake Off apron and an autographed copy of Paul’s latest book.
He also gets a fabled Hollywood handshake. But then comes the clincher. “How did you make that salted caramel sauce?” asks PH quietly. “Um, with sugar, er, I can’t actually remember. Sugar and…butter.” “Butter?” says Paul, no doubt intrigued by the super-high boiling point involved. Cream is usually added at this point to emulsify and cool the sauce. “And salt…” fumbles the flummoxed Star Baker. “Well, it’s not the he perfect cake, it’s a bit messy, but it works,” adds the Bake Off king, rather generously in the circumstances.
“You didn’t like my cake,” I wail as Paul and I pose with my two-foot tall gold embossed cake after judging has finished. I’m not expecting a Hollywood handshake, but I don’t want him to tell me it has a soggy bottom either.
It’s worse. In an attempt to ensure the base layers would support the upper stories, I’ve apparently nuked my Hollywood showstopper. “It was a bit dry,” Hollywood confides, kindly.
The event raises £622 towards Australia’s bush fires crisis, and Paul has a final tip for the baking hopefuls: “Lots of the cakes looked amazing and I think you should all enter Bake Off, but it’s not enough to look good, it has to taste good too. It’s no good if the cake inside isn’t up to the job.”
Crumbs of comfort indeed, but always Sandi Toksvig’s job… there’s