Walnut whirlwind ending as Peter takes the cake

Jubilation! Lovely Scot Peter won! Last night’s final felt exciting, even as a two-man race – hapless, hopeless Laura was really only there for the misfires, mess and misanthropy. There is much talk of her being a survivor but even broken-biscuit Britain still aspires to an immaculate Victoria sponge and Laura just can’t bake. As she surveyed the first of many disasters she declared “it’s a nightmare! What can I do?”, a reluctant admission that self-improvement wasn’t an option immediately available to her.

Dramatically, she then ran to the fridge and stuck her head in – perhaps hoping Boris Johnson would still be hiding there, eager to advise on monetising ineptitude and failure.

The technical challenge was walnut whirls, with Laura emerging from the fridge to declare that she was apparently on fire. Noel reappeared conversing with Mr Spoon, a self- indulgent nonsensical prop, hemispheres from Hamlet – although only a numbskull would praise Fielding as a fellow of infinite jest.

By now it seemed that sweet, unflappable Peter was certain to win but he lost out to Dave in the technical and suddenly looked vulnerable. The showstopper became crucial.

As the temperature rose so did passion – Dave got hit on by Matt and Noel, manically encouraging everyone to kiss the wooden spoon, a conduit of lust and possibly Covid. Even Prue, imperiously disguised as a technicolour quilt, seemed gooey before sexy Dave.

Matt announced he would like to be Dave’s baby, before remembering he was on national television and not a private chatline. Dave replied that he might feed Matt later and you could have stirred this cauldron of awkward tension with Mr Spoon himself, had Woodie not been so busy selfsanitising elsewhere.

Charming, talented, Scottish and young – Peter happily triumphed. Exceptionally nice guy, worthy winner, and emotional ending.

“Even broken-biscuit Britain still aspires to an immaculate sponge