Teasing Mary about raiding the sherry, Paul’s like a naughty kid
Tellyland is bursting with yuletide excitement. all the schedules are frosted with icing, while the icicles outside studio windows are shimmering and the air is filled with cries of children flinging snowballs.
That’s because all these shows were filmed months ago. The producers weren’t to know that by middecember half the country would be under water and the rest sweltering in short sleeves on deckchairs.
Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood were taking no chances with the weather in The Great British Bake Off Christmas Masterclass (BBC2). From the look of it, they had hired a Transylvanian castle, with a tree taller than the one in Trafalgar Square and a stone fireplace wide enough for three Santas.
There was probably room enough in their cavernous dining hall for Mel, Sue and the Bake Off tent, too. While industrious Mary wrapped the presents, Paul was snoring on a red velvet sofa, 50ft away.
at any moment, you expected the addams Family butler, lurch, to crash through a door and groan: ‘you rang, milady?’ But it appeared Paul and Mary were quite alone.
Why were they here? Is this how they live when they’re not judging the soggy bottoms of amateur bakers? Or is Hollywood’s ego now so grandiose that it cannot be contained by anything smaller than a baronial pile?
all they needed was an ordinary kitchen, because this was a traditional cookery lesson. Paul was
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at his most condescending, addressing the viewers like a Blue Peter presenter: ‘don’t be panicked, just watch what we do. Get your pen and paper ready.’
He of all people ought to know many of his fans are outstanding bakers who can tackle the most complex recipes. and if a contestant served this Christmas fare on a real Bake Off, they’d be kicked out in the first week — Paul’s Chelsea buns were singed, while shop-bought sponges and biscuits featured in a couple of dishes.
none of that mattered. TV loves these two because of the mischievous affection between them, and this year their genuine friendship was more evident than ever.
‘you’re chancing your luck,’ Mary chided Paul, as he separated egg yolks from whites with his fingers. He just gave her a cheeky grin and threatened to plop a bowl of meringue over her head. Paul calls her ‘Mate’ and ‘Bez’, and teases her about her fondness for a sherry: ‘This bottle was full last night, Mary! Where’s it gone?’
The pair are like an aunt and a favourite nephew, and part of the game is that he acts up like a naughty 11-year-old — which makes her youthful, too. Their approach to cookery is different, though. Paul exudes a macho challenge, as if he’s taunting viewers that they can copy his recipes but they’ll never be able to do it quite as well as him. When he kneads dough, he pummels it with his whole forearm, like desperate dan stunning an ox.
Mary does the opposite: she sprinkles useful tips and hints so that, even if you daren’t tackle her rosace á l’orange, you’ll still learn something — such as how a covering of clingfilm will stop the skin forming on custard.
a bumper box of celebs were in full fake-Xmas mode in Very British Problems At Christmas (C4), as they pretended to put the roast in the oven and donned reindeer jumpers.
Many were the same faces who were playing with eighties electronic toys on That’s So last Century earlier this week. Perhaps these shows are all churned out in the same factory, or maybe there’s a law that says every fatuous wafflefest must feature comedians Vic Reeves and James Corden.
There should be a special prize for any viewer who spots a talking-heads show between now and new year that doesn’t feature Romesh Ranganathan, a man known solely for appearing on panel games.
eastenders’ danny dyer did his irritating shtick, swearing at the tinsel, while comedian Catherine Tate supplied impressions of her own vacuous chatter at parties.
When you’re looking at a woman impersonating herself, you know you’re watching rubbish.