I realise I am swimming against the tide of popular opinion on this one, but the Great British Bake Off has always left me slightly underwhelmed.
I can’t really whip up much enthusiasm over the contrived drama of whose soggy bottom has collapsed or sponge failed to rise.
I suppose the personalities of the bakers gives the public someone to root for but as a premise for a programme it seems as thin as a piece of over-rolled pastry; after all, a cake’s just a cake isn’t it?
At least I would have said so until I stumbled on an unusual event staged on the streets of Perth.
Whoever came up with the idea of recreating the landmarks of Perth and Kinross in edible form must have a remarkable thought process.
I was wandering through Mill Street when I saw the creations arriving — a stately Scone Palace, an imposing city hall complete with icing cherubs and a spectacular rendering of the Hermitage beauty spot among the culinary creations.
Suitably impressed by the individual efforts, I was more than delighted when I realised that they were to be united in a form which was greater than the sum of its parts — an edible map of Perth and Kinross.
I didn’t hang around to grab one of the 10,000 slices on offer when it was dismantled. The pleasure I derived from the event was more visual than tastebud-tickling — the map appealed on a childlike level like a giant model railway diorama does.
Let us hope a television producer in search of inspiration was among the crowds at Cake Fest.
Surely a baking programme where contestants take up the challenge of recreating famous buildings, battles or celebrities would be a broadcasting phenomenon?
Throw in the odd under-employed politician in search of reality television fame and it would be sure to be television gold.