I have come rather late to fandom of Great British Bake Off. I had seen a few minutes of it before, but it hadn’t grabbed me. I really couldn’t give two hoots about the texture of someone’s cake icing. I don’t even like the stuff. So I would hear bits of conversation from the show’s afficionnados eagerly discussing the previous evening’s programme and mentally tune out.
For reasons I don’t recall, I watched almost the whole of the first programme in the current series. I missed the first few minutes, but sat amused and engaged to the end.
Is it always this entertaining? And do the presenters compete for who can serve up the most innuendos with a straight face? Mel and Sue just have fun being naughty; two adult women refusing to act like grown ups.
My favourite competitor is Nadiya. If she gets sent home, I am not sure if my interest will be sustained. It’s All in the Eyes with Nadiya. She’s Bake Off’s twenty-first century equivalent of the silent movie stars. Seldom have I seen a more expressive face. And she’s funny and cheeky, though I am not sure I can forgive her for putting gelatine in her icing to make it super glossy.
I think someone should sign her up quickly as a TV presenter. She could probably do more than any number of committees to make people understand that being a hijab wearing muslim woman is synonymous neither with repression nor terrorism. Here’s a blog dedicated to the faces she pulls.
I am even learning the lingo. On Twitter it’s #GBBO. The presenters are Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood, and Bake Off’s appeal is such that Paul got the gig as the first story in the new series of Who Do You think You Are? which began last week.
In case you are wondering, I made a point of watching Bake Off last week too. Biscuits! and a nice bit of history thrown in to keep us intellectually stimulated, though I admit my favourite comment from the night was from the winner of this round, who siad that in his village with its population of four hundred he had yet to gain the prize for best male baker at the annnual fête.
A village of great male bakers. Now there’s an idea to conjure with.