And then there were three. The Great British Bake Off (Channel 4) tent looks very empty now, also haunted by the ghosts of bakers past (Liam, is that you?). Noel Fielding’s gothic presence does nothing to detract from the Halloween vibe; he glides around palely, creeping up behind the final three to ask them, softly, if they’re nervous. They are now, Noel.
He has divided opinion, I know. For me Noel has made Bake Off 2.0, an inspired hire. A bit weird, also weirdly kind, and funny - much more subtly so than the punning and innuendo of his predecessors. He has ever so gently nudged GBBO a teeny bit away from the village green in the direction of the graveyard. Great (flavour) combination with Sandi Toksvig too – tall and short, dark and fair, odd and smart, surreal and real.
Mel’n’Who then? No, they can be remembered fondly. Plus I’ve been enjoying Sue Perkins’s carry on up the Ganges, and I generally disapprove of the celebrity travelogue genre. Everyone wins. Apart from Prue Leith, with her MASSIVE EF UP. She was in a different time zone? Which one, Mars’? That apart, I’ve enjoyed Prue too; she’s not a million miles away from Mary Berry, but spikier. Berry plus brambles. Which leaves Paul…
So you know when you’re having a new kitchen? (No, me neither but we can imagine it) . You get your lovely new units, a beautiful beech worktop. But there was nothing actually wrong with the old fridge, so you kept it, and now it looks old and tired, a reminder of the old kitchen so that you can’t quite move on... Well, Paul might be that fridge.
Which might be unfair. He’s a bit cocky and smug but he does undeniably know his baking, is especially interesting on bread. He should leave the jokes to the experts though, and the handshake thing is just weird – not good weird like Noel, just weird weird. Bread is the final signature challenge, 12 loaves, four intricately shaped, four flavoured, four out of alternative grain, like spelt bread, B-R-E-A-D…. (Wooooo, that’s the ghost of Mel.)
Steven’s garlic and fontina loaves look terrible, his rye bread is underproved, only his sweet Winston knots are good. Steven, who wants this so very badly, can see it slipping away, the Bake Off 2017 title melting like a chocolate balloon basket that has got too close to the sun. Sophie, for whom bread has been an Achilles heel, does better than expected. (I think Sophie has spent her life doing better than expected.) But Kate’s are best, her spelt loaves not only inspired by Spartacus, but also springy and delicious.
The final means meeting families, which always gives whoever’s left an extra layer of humanity. Awww, Stephen will always be his mum’s star baker, even if here his star is on the wane. Sophie’s confirms her daughter has always done rather well. Kate was once into go-karting and angling. And her dad choked up when he found out she was going on the Bake Off. Come on Kate, I want her to win (I’m pretending that I, too, have been on Mars and am unaware of the Leith tweet).
But Kate messes up the decorated nut technical challenge, gets nowhere near to finishing them. Actually – and I know I’m no expert – I think the standard in this final is not the highest. Even in the showstopper, an intricate pudding called an entremet. The most unforgiving final showstopper in Bake Off history we’re told, and they – Sophie’s ode to a honeybee, Steven’s yin and yang, Kate’s Japanese yuzu creation – are certainly complicated, with all their layers and flavours. But, certainly from a viewer’s point of view, the results aren’t as spectacular as they were in, say, the first showstopper of the series, the illusion cakes, Sophie’s Champagne bottle and bucket cake, for example.
Anyway, perhaps that champagne bottle was a portent. Because, guess what, the winner is… Sophie! A brilliant and worthy one too, even if she now has to do battle with Jon Snow coming back to life in Game of Thrones for one further crown: that of the worst-kept secret in television history.
