The Not-So-Great-Bake-Along '26 - Week 5

It’s dessert week, and for once I’m not full of exhausted rage!It may come as no surprise to anyone who’s clocked my wonderfully sizable arse (huge, so it has a tremendous sense of value) that I’m a dessert fan. Or pudding, or afters, or sweet, or whatever nonsense you want to call it. 

I have historically, however, not been a fan of dessert week on Bake Off. While ‘dessert’ could encompass any number of wonders, on Bake Off, in recent years, it’s come to represent a whole lot of poorly-timed nonsense: the ‘free-standing trifle’ showstopper of last year was particularly infuriating. 

And then there is the steamed pudding of it all. For three years in a row, the dessert week technical challenge has been some kind of steamed pudding, with a time limit that absolutely doesn’t work. And while I appreciate Prue Leith providing the opportunity for vast amounts of phallic humour with 2024’s Spotted Dick, I was absolutely ready for a change this year. 

I could, quite honestly, cheer at the distinct lack of nonsense in this year’s dessert week. Self-saucing puddings (my drag name) for a signature - with a staggered start time that actually made sense as a little gimmick. A dessert trolley signature - and quite frankly I find any kind of food served from a trolley to be a particular delight. And then the technical - bread and butter pudding, and no steaming in sight. Thank fuck for that. 

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, however, considered purchasing some 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. 

Dessert Week - Bread & Butter Pudding

I genuinely enjoyed how the gingham pantry twist was used this week. The bakers did have a base recipe to work from, but could flavour their bakes at will. I gave myself five minutes while watching the episode to settle on my own add-ins, and picked apricots and dark chocolate. My logic here was really impeccable - I had some apricot jam that needed eating, and I like dark chocolate.

I’ve made many a bread and butter pudding in my time. I didn’t learn the process from an older relative or anything so sweet. No, I simply spent a large chunk of my life working in a pub kitchen, where we made such delicacies in vast, honking trays. 

As such, I’ve got no idea what quantities I actually need to be using. We didn’t really do things like ‘weighing ingredients’ or ‘tracking costs’ or ‘stock control’ in that pub - which may explain why the owners eventually went bankrupt. So, I start by pouring milk and cream into a pan - chucking in some bay leaves and cardamom to infuse, for funsies - and whisking some eggs and sugar. It all looks vaguely right. 

Next up is the part of this I had been, admittedly, dreading. Buttering the bread. In my time at that pub, I often worked the sandwich side on a weekend; endless BLTs and Ham and Mustard flying past my eyes as the hours dragged by. Then I moved onto another restaurant, at which I rapidly became afternoon tea-bitch. I have buttered a lot of bread in my life. I can’t do it now without hearing helicopters and Chas & Dave’s ‘Rabbit’*, my eyes twitching as the horrors resurge. Still, I’m quick with it, and I manage to butter the whole loaf in just under three minutes - not a personal best, but a decent time nonetheless. 

*One Easter Sunday, the raging arsehole that called himself a head chef thought it would be amusing to play ‘Rabbit’ every time someone ordered the rabbit dish on the specials menu. I still can’t hear that song without imagining what violence I could perform with a bread knife. 

The custard happens, some apricots, chocolate chips and jam get layered with the bread, and with an hour to go, my pudding’s in the oven.

I breathe a fresh sigh of relief at this year’s lack of nonsense. No faff here for faff’s sake - no custard, no homemade golden syrup, just an hour to let my pudding do its thing. I make a negroni to celebrate. 

With 20 minutes to go, I chuck some demerara sugar on top of the pudding, and stick it under the grill to get the top crunchy. I finish off with a blowtorch to get the sugar really caramelised, because I do not get enough excuses to use it, and with thirteen minutes left on the clock, I’m done. 

The Results

Obviously, it’s a triumph. My partner gives me tens across the board, asking if he can eat the entire thing immediately. I’m slightly harsher - an 8 for appearance as there were a few singed moments, and a 9 for flavour; I could have gone heavier on the chocolate. 

Was this a fair challenge?

Honestly, I’ve got nothing to complain about this week. It’s obviously very doable in the time limit. The base recipe and basic ingredients meant even those unfamiliar with the concept weren’t left in the dark. I do think the judging was a little unfair - both Paul and Nigella seemed upset by anything outside of the traditional, which felt odd - but this was a downright relief of a technical challenge compared to recent nonsense. 

Next week, pastry!