A pheromone frenzy as the kitchen heats up

Temperatures rose in the kitchen, pheromones swelling like plumped bagels as Bake Off got raunchier. Paul struts around powered by a machismo so strong he glows with pride as he reveals he has never seen a West End musical. His jeans ache to leave the 1970s and when he talks about “growth in the loaf”, such brooding manliness becomes hilariously camp.

Meanwhile Noel also channels the ’70s. Sporting the kind of long hair we had before, this Poundland Goth, more motorhome than Motorhead, seems mildly pointless next to the amusing and likeable Matt Lucas.

This week was bread week and things got tough.

Rowan overdosed on polenta and Paul smouldered in distaste. Paul can’t quite grasp that Rowan doesn’t really give a damn – his insouciance throughout the show is hilarious.

Meantime Lottie remains confident and funny, which I would be too if I looked like a gorgeous French actress with a pout to rival

Bardot.

Handsome Dave didn’t have such a good week although his flirty badinage with Lottie about what 15cm looks like was worthy of a Carry On film.

Meantime Matt and Rowan milked further innuendo about size and sausages like fishwives over the privet, all mouth, moues and arched eyebrows.

The technical challenge was won by Linda but more interesting was Rowan, who announced that his rainbow bagels “go in looking OK and then things happen” – an allegory for politicians in Parliament and possibly existence itself ? Rowan’s admission that his bagels were “soft and wrinkly, which is not attractive” decreased the sexual frenzy somewhat.

The showstopper saw Michael Gove soundalike Peter announce he was going to give the Forth Rail Bridge an eggwash, but sadly his reductive, compressed Edinburgh cityscape was more girdle than girders.

Marc Elliott was star baker and Rowan went home.

Paul can’t quite grasp that Rowan doesn’t really give a damn – his insouciance throughout the show is hilarious