Margot from Margate is boycotting Bake Off. In her heart, she feels that’s what Mary would want. Instead, she pours a nice cup of tea into her Mary Berry Collection mug and cuts a generous slice of the Mary Berry Indulgent Chocolate Cake from Asda. Dear Margot will sleep well, satisfied that she’s taken a firm stance against the commercialism of the move to Channel 4.
Meanwhile, back in the tent, there’s a promising recipe of familiarity and freshness; still sited at stately Welford Park, the kitchen woodwork now gets a lick of blueberry sorbet and mint macaron.
New judge, self-assessed ‘firm but fair’ Prue Leith, hits the spot when she says that cake ‘has to be worth the calories’. My depressingly bloated waistline bears witness to too many bad examples, though admittedly the consolatory red wine and salty yin of chips to cake’s sweet yang haven’t helped either.
Sandi Toksvig, wearing a fitting tribute to the infamous Berry blouson, guides proceedings with genuine warmth and gentle skill. Noel Fielding promises deliciously dangerous eccentricity, yet so far looks like a man who’s discovered a fantastic line in shirts but still needs to find his feet.
Pointing to the fact that ‘we’re all newbies here… apart from old blue eyes’, Noel introduces the tent’s scowling stalwart, Paul Hollywood… who smiles! Yes, the old misery guts seems to have had a bit of a personality makeover.
I’d like to think of Paul as having changed… (I also like to think of Paul in burgundy lederhosen, but that’s a personal cross to bear). Sadly, I suspect any change may be skin deep as he literally appears to glow on screen. Perhaps he’s been given one of those old Hollywood (as in the movie capital) filters (usually a well-placed smear of Vaseline) or he’s using a particularly effective detox shampoo. Either way, he’s less silver fox, more pearlescent polar bear.
Thankfully it’s still all about the bakers. Naturally there are the ones that my partner Peter cruelly and prematurely describes as ‘cannon fodder’, but there are also some instant stars. Liam, Kate and Yan buzz with endearing enthusiasm, but it’s Liverpudlian Flo who instantly takes the top spot for lovability. Paul playfully mocks her accent as she chews on her words with relish, like a mouthwatering pan of scouse.