It's a similar story for Toby, whose banana and peanut flavoured facsimiles of his dog Bex are judged by Paul to be ‘more like a cat.’ Iain’s cat-shaped creations are commended for their flavours of spiced orange with mincemeat ganache, but whilst pet Victor’s claws may be sharp, Paul thinks the design isn’t.

Aaron’s ‘Mini Winnies’ are fashioned after his best friend’s baby girl but, with the addition of a black fondant fringe, one winking offcut proves to bear more than a passing resemblance to Noel. Prue praises the ‘layers of flavour’ of milk chocolate, tonka and malted milk and Paul agrees they’re ‘delicious.’

Thoroughly tried and tested in their lunchboxes, Nadia admits her kids are now sick of the sight of her avocado-shaped matcha and chocolate biscuits. Much to their relief, she vows never to bake them again when the judges declare them lacking flavour and ‘underbaked.’

It’s a common problem as Lesley, Nataliia, Jasmine and Jessika also get a grilling for soft specimens. ‘All I can taste is chocolate,’ bemoans Prue, as she samples Lesley’s orange-flavoured cupcakes. Nataliia’s Yorkshire roses have a stronger almond accent but look a little wilted. Jasmine’s orange and nutmeg boats rescue points for their ‘simple but effective’ design and ‘absolutely delicious’ taste, whilst Jessika’s black cherry and almond slices of bacon and egg on toast win on wittiness but lose out on crispness.

Which leaves Leighton, who, having scraped through last week, has the look of a man desperate to impress but not holding out much hope of doing so. ‘These look amazing,’ says Paul, admiring an array of pristine orange slices with a chocolate orange dip. ‘Very clever, well baked, great flavour,’ he adds, and I for one let out a little cheer.

Celebrations are more muted for this week’s technical challenge. ‘Use your temperature probe,’ advises Prue cryptically, as the bakers spend the next two hours trying to read both her mind and the minimal recipe to create twelve chocolate and caramel hobnobs, unsure if they should be testing the temperature of the caramel, the chocolate or the ever-increasing heat in the tent. At the judging, it’s revealed that the requisite ratio should be three fifths biscuit, one fifth caramel and one fifth chocolate, but it’s an instruction that comes far too late for Pui Man’s sticky millionaire’s shortbread-like wodges, of which the unfortunate baker has only retrieved seven. Unsurprisingly taking the bottom slot, she’s closely followed by Leighton. Textbook proportions and ‘perfect feathering’ put Toby on top for the second week in a row.

Considerably more down to earth than the biscuit towers and chandeliers of previous years, this season’s showstopper has the bakers constructing a highly decorated time capsule containing at least five edible mementos.

‘It is moving,’ says Paul of Iain’s record player, but this turns out to be an observation of the mechanics and not an emotional response. ‘It’s basic,’ he heartlessly concludes, although Prue shows some affection for the rotating lemon and pistachio shortbreads.

Nadia’s Italian-inspired hamper flavoured with limoncello includes a little vine of tomato-shaped macarons. Prue praises the complementary flavours and confirms ‘the bake is good.’ However, in the battle of the biscuit baskets, Jasmine wins with a pristine picnic of Scottish shortbread holiday memories. ‘Exquisite, delicious and baked to perfection,’ exclaims Paul, and Prue agrees ‘it’s a blinder,’ adding ‘I think your future could be in biscuits.’

‘You set yourself a really high bar to jump,’ says Prue ruefully, as Nataliia’s ambitious (but underbaked) cake slice box fails to make it to the judging table intact. Jessica’s ‘quite chewy’ espresso and chocolate box with painted windows of holidays reaches its destination safely but her delicate little self-portrait puppet is soon destroyed by Paul’s hulking digits.

Lesley’s gingerbread box of holiday memories includes shortbread chips and what Prue describes as ‘melt in the mouth’ Viennese battered fish. She’s less complimentary about Toby’s treasure chest. Twice baking his chocolate and orange biscuits for extra stability, he assures us ‘I don’t think it’s at risk of drying out too much.’ ‘Looks terrific… tastes quite dry,’ Prue splutters.

Aaron’s vision of a Japanese style box with chocolate cherry blossom trees doesn’t quite go to plan. His gingerbread bridge cracks and he runs out of time to decorate his contents. ‘Quite clumsy,’ concludes Prue, though she concedes his Earl Grey biscuit is ‘simply delicious.’

Replicating a favourite floating Hong Kong restaurant that sank, Pui Man could well be tempting fate. Fortunately, she achieves a hugely impressive recovery. ‘Spot on with the flavour and the bake,’ says Paul, admiring her ‘beautiful gingerbread.’ ‘You’ve pulled off every element of it,’ adds Prue.

Now, eagle-eyed viewers who have spotted a perfectly executed edible baby grand in the trailer for this year’s bakes will share my excitement when Leighton says he’s creating a biscuit piano. Can he finish the week with a spectacular showstopper? Unfortunately, the answer is no. Whoever is responsible for the stunning Steinway isn’t Leighton. His boxy black gingerbread instrument looks, by his own admission ‘condemned’ and sadly he is too.

So, it’s left in Tom’s capable hands to deliver the bake of the week and secure his place as Star Baker. His cardamom spiced replica of his granny’s cottage is judged by Prue to be ‘absolutely perfect.’ ‘Pretty much untouchable,’ decides Paul. And then he hesitates, for this is a bake that demands contact. Tanned and refreshed after its little break, the handshake is back.