The theme this week was the Roaring Twenties and there truly was a lot of flapping going on – mainly from our Michael from Scone who you probably wouldn’t choose to be the passenger in charge of the emergency exit row of a crashing plane.
However, other flapper options were available; Rosie dropped her custard pie, leading to the melodramatic yet perceptive theory that “everything is just going wrong in the world right now”.
Her exchange with Noel about killing rabbits, angry stallions, snakes and a crab with herpes was truly surreal and, like some of the baking last night, a trifle unsavoury – chlamydia not being an obvious conversation starter over tea and 18 beignet souffles.
Lovely Steph is starting to really shine as the favourite and doesn’t seem daunted by surly, mean old Paul. In his mind Mr Hollywood is Easy Rider, stepping from his Harley, bestriding the kitchen like a Colossus. In reality he’s a star baker and a brilliant TV presence who brings real insight to the judging.
The technical challenge saw Michael break down, barely holding back the tears like the Garbo of Perthshire; later, amidst higher tiers on an actual cake, his were not enough.
Posh Henry, who will surely run the country with Rosie one day, proved affable and funny; “this is the strongest coffee I could find in the world. Well, in Waitrose”. You somehow knew it would never be Lidl or Poundland.
Steph won star baker while Michelle and Helena went home.