The Not-So-Great-Bake-Along '25 - Week 2

It’s biscuit week! 

I feel like I need to issue a formal ‘thank you’ to whoever comes up with the challenges on Bake Off. Particularly, the showstoppers. Every year, we get to hear more and more ridiculous descriptions of biscuit-related items, presented as if they are a totally normal thing. Last year, it was a ‘Biscuit Puppet Theatre’. This year: ‘A Biscuit Time Capsule’. No one in their right mind has ever thought to themself ‘Hmm, yes, I shall bake a biscuit time capsule. That is a normal way to spend time.’ And yet, here we are. It’s an absurd delight, an exercise in surrealism, and something we are truly lucky to be experiencing in these troubled times. (It’s possible my experiences with caramel this week have made me slightly loopy.) 

It’s always a frustrating week on Bake Off when the tent is clearly running at ridiculous temperatures - it gives me flashbacks to wrestling buttercream in submission during heatwaves, and reminds me why I no longer work in a professional kitchen.  It was sad to see Leighton go, but I can’t lie that I was cheering a bit when Pui Man pulled herself back from the edge with that showstopper. 

On to the technical then - HobNobs! With caramel! Once again, I had just a delight of a time putting together something that I, personally, would only buy in a packet (to be eaten in one sitting, dunked into clotted cream. Try it. You’ll thank me.) 

The Rules:

• I have to recreate, to the best of my ability, the Technical Challenge. 
• I will not be looking at any kind of recipe. Each week, I have to do this purely with some context from the show and my own store of baking knowledge. 
• The time limit: The maximum amount of time I’ll be allowing myself is the time given to the bakers. However, as I don’t want to be wasting food and I don’t have a vast team of producers and camera operators to eat my bakes, I will sometimes be scaling my bakes down. When that happens, I’ll be reducing my total time accordingly. 
• The judging: I do not have handy professionals available to judge me. I have not, as of yet, however, purchased the fabric to make my own gingham altar. I will be judging myself, and I’m a raging bitch so I won’t be particularly lenient. My partner will be scoring as well, and probably his office mates if there’s too much cake for us to consume in one sitting. 
• The equipment: I like to think I’ve got the sort of decently-stocked kitchen any skilled home baker would have. If a technical challenge requires specialist equipment I don’t have, I won’t be buying anything for the occasion. I will be MacGyvering it, and adjusting my handicaps accordingly. 

Biscuit Week - Caramel HobNobs 

First up - the biscuit dough. Obviously, I’ve never made these before. But they are oaty, and I definitely spotted some golden syrup on the show. So, I start with my basic shortbread recipe - 2 parts flour, 1 part butter, 1 part sugar. I swap half the flour for oats, half of the remaining flour for wholemeal (bread flour, specifically, because I already had it in the cupboard), and half of the sugar for golden syrup. A very un-exciting few minutes with the stand mixer ensues, and I have achieved some kind of biscuit dough. (Having checked Prue’s recipe after the fact, I wasn’t far off.) 

Now comes the thrilling part of any Bake Off challenge - juggling the chilling times. Sadly, I don’t mean the time I have to relax. Quite frankly, I haven’t been relaxed since I gained an awareness of the world around me. No, I mean how long I can chill the biscuit dough before cooking, while still having enough time to cool the biscuits post-bake. These are the thrilling decisions I get to make, at least once a week. My life is fantastic. 

I opt for around ten minutes. More importantly, once the dough is rolled and spending time in the fridge, I decide to immediately embark on the caramel. Those who have followed my Bake Off adventures in previous years will know that caramel and I are not friends. I resent it. I especially resent the presence of caramel in something that doesn’t need caramel. Putting caramel in something just to make life harder is cruel and unnecessary.  I think Prue Leith has it in for me, specifically. 

Still, some sugar goes into a pan, on the heat, and I try not to think about it too much. I cut the biscuits, give them a whole three minutes to chill again, and they’re in the oven with an hour and a half left to go. 

Of course, because I’m incredibly competent and good at managing my timings, the biscuits are ready just as the caramel is at a stage where it absolutely has to be paid attention to - I have just added some butter, in an attempt to make a caramel that won’t set completely hard. I am just one person, and even in my small kitchen I cannot quite manage both. The caramel comes off the heat, and I rescue the biscuits just seconds before burning. 

I don’t want to wait too long for the biscuits to  cool, so I immediately start trying to pour the caramel into my silicon moulds (bought for a cheesecake challenge a couple of years ago, only for me to realise they were far too small. This is, I think, the first time I’ve used them.) This is a mistake. The caramel has started to set while still in the pan. I frantically put it back on the heat, and start desperately trying to pour it. It’s setting in the silicone immediately. Despite this, I still try to shove the biscuits in. The caramel is solid at this point. 

If this was a Werther’s Original challenge, I’d be on to a winner. But it’s not. I accept defeat. I dig the toffee pennies out of the silicone, prying off a couple of biscuits as I go, and accept that I need a new batch of caramel. With one hour to go, I get more sugar heating up. 

This time, I’m less shy with the butter and cream. Having checked the recipe, I definitely could have been more heavy-handed, but I get this batch of caramel into the molds, and cram the biscuits in, without incident. The moulds go into a hastily-cleared space in the freezer (my big bag of cocktail ice temporarily related to a cool box for the occasion), and it’s time to start on chocolate. 

I only have two bowls and pans that might work for a double-boiler situation, but I don’t let that deter me. A bunch of dark chocolate goes in one, and a tiny bit of white chocolate in another. I wasn’t optimistic about finding caramel chocolate, and thought I was going to have to look for some Caramac - remember Caramac? I used to love that stuff when I was a kid, mostly because it was the closest thing to chocolate I could eat without having an allergic reaction. (I had a tough childhood.) Cadbury, however, have come through for me - with some ‘Caramilk’ buttons that I absolutely bought an extra bag of, as a treat for doing so well in these horrible, caramel-laden times. 

Weirdly, things actually start coming together for me at this point, with less than half an hour to go. The caramel sets, and I can start the chocolate dipping, the piping and the feathering and the rotating of bowls to get the caramel chocolate melted. I am confused that, in the episode, so many of the bakers had trouble with the feathering. I get that there were issues with actually melting the chocolate, what with it being hotter than Hades in the tent, but is dragging a cocktail stick through some lines particularly difficult? Am I just privileged, with my feathering knowledge? 

Admittedly, I don’t manage to decorate the biscuits with any kind of precision. That’s less to do with my feathering knowledge, and has a lot to do with who I am as a person. Still, with fourteen minutes left on the clock, I am done. A relief. 

The Judging

I’ll be honest, the caramel was a bit…solid. I think I just about got away with it - no one in my partner’s office has threatened to send me their dental bill. 

My partner’s verdict: 10/10 for appearance. 8/10 for flavour. He’s docked points for caramel. He’s tired, so I get a ‘Insert Nob joke here’.  

My verdict: 9/10 for appearance. (They aren’t perfect.) 9/10 for flavour. I refuse to dock too many points for the caramel, considering I don’t think caramel has any place in a HobNob. Most importantly, these are absolutely banging when dunked in clotted cream. 

Was this a fair challenge? Honestly, it wasn’t that unfair. I do think, considering the heat, the bakers should have been given an extra fifteen minutes or so. Yes, I came in under the time limit, but I absolutely could not have done that in a tent, in the middle of a heat wave. Still, it was doable. 

More importantly, this challenge hit two of my Bake Off pet peeves. The first is making the challenge something most people just wouldn’t bother making for themselves, because the version that comes in a packet can’t really be improved on. It seems like a sneaky way to make sure the bakers in the tent won’t have attempted this bake before. The second is, as I’ve mentioned, adding caramel just for the challenge. If the bake, as it is, isn’t particularly challenging - try a different bake! There are a plethora of complicated biscuits out there that would fairly test the contestants skills. Also, I just don’t want to make more caramel. 

Next week - bread!