The Great British Bake-Off - TV review
Every now and again, you see something on a cookery programme that makes you gag.
Every now and again, you see something on a cookery programme that makes you gag.
For example, when Stuart, from Staffordshire, turns to camera and grins: "I'm making a tomato and ginger upside down cake," that feeling of nausea rises horribly in the viewer.
The judges on The Great British Bake Off look on his experiment with interest. Sitting at home in front of my telly, I'm not so polite.
"That sounds horrific, Stuart," I yell. "What's wrong with you?"
It gets worse when he reveals he was planning to add tomato jam, then, strangely, things deteriorate still further when he actually forgets to add the jam.
He, this new series tells us, is one of Britain's best amateur bakers.
He's making me feel a little unwell.
Stuart's not the only competitor approaching the competition from left field.
Parsnips, golden syrup and all manner of exotic fruits are thrown at the upside down cakes which are the contestants' challenge in the first round of the new series, which started last night.
Nervous Carolyn is more my kind of cook.
She's shoving hazelnuts and caramel and all sorts of gooey, sweet, golden foodstuffs at her confection.
Sadly, the programme isn't based on what most tickles my fancy – the whole matter would have been wrapped up inside 10 minutes if I had been on duty. Victoria's pear and pecan cake would win silver, for the record.
Instead, stern-looking judges Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood are tasked with the long process of whittling down the 12 competitors to one winner.
And what of Stuart's tomato and ginger cake?
Well, apparently the taste of the tomatoes didn't come through. Thank the stars for that.
He does seem a bit better when he makes a rum baba, but not by much.
After more disappointment in his attempts to construct a Union Jack within a cake, it's he or Tamworth's Natasha for the chop.
Eventually, south Staffs loses out. Clearly there's room for a baking school in The Creative County.
By the time the decision arrives, though, the attention has begun to drift.
If I'm going to spend an hour watching people baking, I expect at least to be able to clean the bowl out.
Instead, we have a series of mishaps, some impressive skills, and a short history of baking.
It's peppered with gags from presenting team Mel and Sue, who have made their own resurgence on the box of late.
"We're making upside down cake, or as they call it in Australia, cake," smiles Sue.
She's at it again shortly afterwards. "10 minutes to go," she bellows, holding her '10 minute' sign upside down.
The Great British Bake Off treads a line between trying to create tension in the Masterchef mould, and at others playing on the increasingly tedious Keep Calm and Carry On fashion that seems to be all-pervading in Britain today.
It's viewing so comfortable as to fall into the realms of the boring. You sit through an hour of watching people bake, without even enjoying the benefit of a nice cake at the end of it all.
You do feel hungry, though. I wonder whether Greggs is still open.
Thom Kennedy