So GBBO is over for another year, returning who knows when, having fled to the sweaty arms of Channel 4 in the process. I’ve typically been struggling to maintain my zeal for baking since this series ended. Not to mention the difficulties of indulgence when you are watching the number on the scales as carefully as I am. But here are some more things I did make in the past couple of months:
In September I woke up possessed with the desire to make cinnamon rolls. I do get quite faddish with baking. The rolls I made, using a recipe from Minimalist Baker, turned out fat and unevenly baked (I put them in the oven the wrong way round), and potentially could have done with more cinnamon. They tasted pretty amazing when fresh out of the oven, but the giddiness they inspired faded after a few hours with the heat. And microwaving just ain’t the same.
Next was a tarte au citron. I wanted to make some kind of nod to my French heritage but this BBC recipe sacrifices tradition for a ‘healthy’ version – so I’m sure someone will come round to rip up my French passport sometime soon. But to me it tasted just as good as the classic would.
I turned to James Morton again when my parents and sister came to visit in London. I need something that would satisfy all three of their palates: sweet but not too sweet, not rich, sharp, interesting, without chocolate or marzipan. I went for an almond torte with a lemon drizzle.
Half an hour before the family were due to arrive, I suddenly panicked that my sister didn’t like almonds, so I hurriedly put together some misshapen scones. This BBC recipe insists they are the perfect ‘last-minute’ treat, using that much-loathed (by me) phrase ‘storecupboard recipe.’ Urgh.
Well, it’s true they are simple to make, and this wasn’t the first time I’d used this recipe; but to bake you still need care and attention, and to me that means you also need time. The resulting scones tasted ok but were so misshapen that I couldn’t be bothered to Instagram them – and that’s saying something. When my family arrived I collapsed on the sofa, exhausted from the day’s travails (it was only 2pm). Further proof I am probably not destined for GBBO glory.