‘Looks like a cloud, tastes like heaven,’ enthuses Alison, introducing the competition’s first week dedicated to that polarising confection – meringue. She’s clearly a fan of foodstuffs that provide any opportunity, however tenuous, to show off her dance moves, but Aaron is the only baker brave enough to partner her merengue. Still, there are three more weeks in which she may rumba through rum babas, macarena with macarons, and salsa along to anything served with a spicy side. You can take the girl out of Strictly, but…

Anyway, Alison may be enjoying herself, but Prue isn’t so sure. ‘I don’t like torched meringue,’ she tells Tom, as he and his fellow bakers begin their two-hour signature bake of twelve mini meringue pies. Apparently, she favours the solidity of an oven-baked topping, but Tom misinterprets this and subjects his stem ginger Swiss meringue to the merest flash of a flame. ‘Yuck,’ she exclaims, as a frothy blob escapes from its rhubarb and strawberry curd base and refuses to budge from Paul’s knife. He decides it’s ‘not overly sweet’ and tastes ‘fantastic,’ but though Prue concedes, ‘that meringue has a really lovely flavour,’ she adds it’s ‘still a disgusting texture.’

Iain is using rhubarb too, and combining it with almond frangipane, blackberries and an Italian meringue. He’s obviously been doing his homework as he explains that ‘since season one, anyone who’s used rhubarb hasn’t gone home.’ So, will the lucky pink batons work their magic yet again? It seems so. ‘Very complicated, but absolutely beautiful,’ decides Prue, and Paul confirms it’s ‘a decent bake.’

‘Delicious, but too thick,’ is Prue’s verdict on Lesley’s lemon curd, and Paul agrees it’s ‘gloopy.’ He also thinks her sweet shortcrust is ‘overworked’ and ‘needed a little longer in the oven,’ but her Italian meringue is judged ‘lovely.’

‘I do like a Mont Blanc,’ reflects Paul, as he momentarily drifts off to a Parisian patisserie, listening to Aaron’s inspiration for his little pies. ‘Oh, so do I,’ enthuses Prue, joining him for an imaginary café au lait before they return to the tent’s judging business. She decides that the combination of chestnut cream, blackcurrant compote and yuzu meringue is ‘lovely,’ and Paul concurs that the touch of chestnut flour in the pastry is ‘fantastic.’ ‘If I saw those in a pastry shop, I would want to buy one,’ muses Prue.

A sharp burst of reality comes from Jasmine’s tangy raspberry and passion fruit tartlets, with pretty peaks of Swiss meringue. ‘Absolutely perfect,’ declares Prue, and Paul agrees with a handshake. There’s a handshake too for Toby, who, despite a self-confessed moment of ‘squeaky bum time,’ when he temporarily forgets his walnut praline, crafts a beautiful batch of spiced apple and custard pies, finished off with a meringue lattice. ‘Clever’ and ‘delicious’ admires Paul, and Prue even likes the topping.

‘Could everyone leave the tent except for Iain,’ announces Noel, heralding that rare event – the staggered technical challenge. To my reckoning, it’s happened only three times before (in series one, six and eight) for bakes that demand judgement fresh from the oven.

This time, the temperature-temperamental task consists of four raspberry soufflés with leaf-shaped tuiles. Iain is confused from the start. Following the recipe, which, in truth, seems clearer than usual, he weighs out twenty-five grams of sugar to make a raspberry purée. Now he should have two hundred grams of sugar remaining for the Swiss meringue base. Except he interprets ‘the remaining sugar’ as what’s left in the jar, which is more than double what the recipe intended. Incredibly, his super sweet soufflés are so perfectly risen and fluffily textured that he wins the challenge regardless. Lesley’s lumpy, underbaked quartet sends her score sinking.

Remember Bingate? Also known as Baked Alaska-gate, it was the controversial incident of series five that saw the first ‘Iain from Belfast’ binning his bake before judging. Eleven years on, this week’s showstopper of a vacherin glacé proves too irresistible for his namesake not to attempt what he describes as ‘Bingate redemption.’ Espresso sorbet and dark chocolate ice cream are cleverly encased in a ‘dustbin’ of black sesame meringue, topped off with a Chantilly cream lid. ‘It looks absolutely wonderful,’ exclaims Prue. However, the flavours (fairly faithfully reproduced from the unconsumed original) turn out to be less satisfactory. ‘Very strong,’ decides Prue. ‘Too strong,’ adds Paul, and this year’s Iain from Belfast looks completely down in the dumps.

From ‘dirty’ meringue to its polar opposite, Aaron opts for a pristine finish to his lemongrass kitsune – a mythical Japanese fox with nine tails. The creature stands guard over a stem ginger ice cream and lime and lemongrass sorbet. Despite noting a few breaks in the tail and a rather ‘toffee-ish’ meringue, Prue commends the all-white design for being ‘brave and elegant.’

‘It’s really weird,’ bemoans Lesley, as she discovers her meringue mixture is stubbornly refusing to crisp up in the oven. Talking through her recipe with Tom, it becomes painfully apparent that she’s mistakenly reversed the ratio of egg white to sugar and has to start again. Against the odds, she pulls off a hugely impressive Eton Mess flavoured wedding cake with lemon and basil ice cream that Prue says looks ‘fresh’ and tastes ‘delicious.’ Paul agrees it has ‘great flavours,’ but her last-minute meringue is judged ‘chewy.’

‘Very Jasmine,’ is Paul’s assessment of the baker’s French meringue scallop shell filled with pistachio, strawberry and stracciatella ice creams. ‘All delicious and distinctly different,’ confirms Prue.

Tom too achieves a bake of distinction, with complementary layers of banana and cinnamon ice creams, hazelnut dulce de leche and banana sponge. Shaped like a huge cep mushroom, it’s capped with a coffee flavoured Italian meringue that even converts Prue. ‘That’s just torched… but it’s absolutely delicious,’ she exclaims.

Now, prepare yourself for an image that may prove tricky to expel from your head. No, it’s not Toby’s beautiful pastel coconut meringue mango tree, proudly pert on a little island of mango sorbet, coconut gelato and caramel coconut cream. It’s Paul’s revealing critique. ‘It’s like having a pina colada,’ he declares, adding, ‘I’m just not nipple-deep in a pool.’

Moving swiftly on, (if you can) the somewhat shellshocked Toby discovers he’s Star Baker. And Lesley admits, ‘it’s been a sticky week,’ as she becomes the next to leave the tent.
Meanwhile, Alison begins to consider her dance options for dessert week. Perhaps an American Smooth to ‘Pudding on the Ritz?’