Allison Pearson
Has the soggy bottom fallen out of ‘Bake Off’?
OK, what I say next may be so hot it has to be handled with oven gloves, and if you violently disagree, you can always hit me with a deluxe heavyduty anodised baking tray – but is this series of The Great
British Bake Off a teeny bit tedious?
Has that perfect soufflé of primetime patisserie run out of puff? Does the sound of Paul Hollywood’s molars chumping on pastry no longer make you sigh with pleasure, but want to ram a misshapen brandy snap down his smug, beardy throat? Beneath the show’s crisp crust, does there lurk a dreaded soggy bottom?
I shouldn’t feel this way. The contestants for the sixth series of BBC One’s quest to find the country’s best amateur baker are a delightfully varied bunch. In fact, drawn from every culture, they are like an extended Benetton ad. It’s been lovely, in particular, to get to know Nadiya, who shows us an absolutely normal British Muslim woman, lighting up with pleasure or frowning with disappointment, instead of some forbidding stereotype.
But maybe it is that I’d-Like-to-TeachThe-World-To-SingIn-Perfect-Harmony vibe that is the problem. Where is the simmering tension?
I had high hopes of Ugne Bubnaityte. Not only did the Lithuanian bodybuilder have a name like a bad hand of Scrabble, she was ferociously competitive. Given the chance, Ugne looked like she could devour gentle ruminants like Ian and Alvin for lunch. Unfortunately, Ugne overstretched herself with a chocolate hazelnut cake that looked like the clear winner of a Scoop the Poop competition.
TV reality shows are designed around something producers call “jeopardy”. In order for the viewers to invest in a series, there has to be an element of suspense.
You can tell a programme is struggling when the jeopardy has to be whipped up artificially. Like last week, during the Who Could Be In Trouble? spot, when Paul ventured: “Dare I say Ian?”
Ian? Star Baker for three weeks in a row Ian?
“Oh, that would be a shocker,” said Sue Perkins. What Sue should have said is: “Don’t be bloody ridiculous. Ian is a dead cert for the final.” Instead, she had to go along with this slightly desperate attempt to inject suspense. It was about as appealing as those boring pitta breads that look like smelly inner soles.
That said, I shall be watching tonight. Who knows, maybe prison governor Paul can take the other Paul hostage, stage a breakout from the tent and demand that perfect Ian comes second? Perhaps Tamal’s sunny equanimity will crack and he will pinch Flora’s amarettis? Whatever happens, may Bake
Off rise to golden heights again.