The Not-So-Great-Bake-Along '24
Seven-Strand Plaited Loaf
Happy Bread Week to all those who celebrate!
I love bread. I think I’ve made that abundantly clear in my past Bake-Off commentary. I look forward to bread week. I delight in dough. I love a loaf. I adore…nevermind. This is getting silly.
I’m getting silly because, to be honest, this wasn’t the most exciting technical challenge I’ve ever baked along with. I moaned last week that hyper-specific challenges kill the contestants creativity on Bake Off, and this week was delightfully the opposite. I would, however, not have hated some specificity, at literally any point, especially in the technical challenge.
This week's challenge - a wreath-shaped loaf made from a seven-strand braid. Not terribly terrifying, and at least I didn’t have to faff about with jam. It is, however, at its core, just plain white bread. The only challenging aspect was the shaping, and there was a handy demonstration at the top. (To further handicap myself, I waited two days before attempting the bread, and did not rewatch the instructions in the meantime.) I would’ve loved a pretzel, or a bagel, or any specificity.
Then again, did the technical challenge matter? Dylan, who came last, was star baker for the episode thanks to his signature gochujang buns and his final cornucopia. I’m of the firm belief that Nelly was robbed, especially with her technical challenge win. I’m also of the firm belief that the delight, shock and awe at this wonderful new-fangled gochujang was utter nonsense - something simply cannot be considered exotic once it’s used on the menu at Wagamamas. The Bake Off subreddits (yes I’m in multiple Bake Off subreddits - does this column really imply that I have a life?) are certain that the technical challenge is simply irrelevant in the grand scheme of the show. They might be right. Still! I made some bread.
The Rules
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.
Bread Week - Seven-strand Plaited Wreath
Dough first, obviously. I start with 500g of flour, and, just like the bakers, have to guess the amount of water. I go for 300ml and change (as in I got distracted and poured slightly too much into the dough.) Checking Paul Hollywood’s recipe afterwards, he calls for 340ml, which I would argue pushes the doubt into ‘ball-ache to work with territory’. He is, however, the expert. Still, 300 or so works for me, and I’ve sensibly purchased fast-action yeast for the occasion. Bit of salt, bit of sugar, and I have a successful dough.
I knead said dough for the requisite ten minutes - my only work-out for the week. To be perfectly honest, I would absolutely cut a corner and use a stand mixer for this because I’ve got things to do. The bakers in the tent, however, weren’t permitted stand mixers (I’m assuming in an attempt to force them closer to the wire on time limits) and so I suffered through the manual labour. I have been personally victimised by Paul Hollywood.
Two hours and fifteen minutes to go, and the bread is in for its first prove. I go and watch an episode of Riverdale, because that is technically my job right now. Chad Michael Murray makes an excellent cult leader. (Between doing this challenge and writing this up, I’ve watched a further two seasons of Riverdale. No one should have to do this.)
One hour and twenty minutes to go, the dough has risen (praise the lord) and it’s time to braid. I start rolling out seven strings of dough, realise they’re not all the same amount of dough, and forge blindly on because cutting things into seven is nonsense in the first place.
Just as I’m about to start the dreaded braid, I have to pause. My wonderful co-host at The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret has stopped by to pick up a book. She later informs me that she did not even slightly register me being slightly covered in flour, as that’s effectively my base state of being. She’s not wrong. I’m not sure how it happens.
Surprisingly, I manage a neatish braid without too much drama. Years of cultivating ridiculously long hair have paid off. An hour and two minutes to go, and the second prove begins. I need to preheat the oven, so I can’t prove the bread in there, and my house is freezing. I start making a curry in the hopes it’ll warm the kitchen up enough to get the bread going.
It does! Thirty-One minutes to go, and my (admittedly, slightly wonky) wreath is glazed and in the oven, baking away! A delight! I apparently haven’t made enough bread so I knock up some flatbreads to go with the curry. They are a delight, and require no braiding. I take the wreath out with ten minutes to go, and call the challenge a success!
I name it A-wreath-a Franklin. We make our own fun.
Wasn’t that entirely unexciting in every single possible way?
The Judging
My partner gives it a 9/10 for both appearance and flavour. He tells me ‘it tastes like bread’ and really, I can’t ask for more than that.
I give myself an 8/10 on the basis that it’s slightly wonky and I don’t want to get too big for my boots.
This was a dull, not-at-all-challenging challenge. Honestly, I can’t make it sound more exciting on the write-up. At least it’s not overly-complicated, unfair, or stacking the deck against the contestants with unfair timings. But, at the end of the day, it’s a plain white loaf of bread and a test to see if the contestants can remember visual instructions. It’s unsurprising that it wasn’t important in the grand scheme of the episode - it wasn’t so much a test of the baker’s technical skills as an excuse to squeeze in a couple more advert breaks.
Would I make this again? Probably not. If I’m going to braid bread it’s going to be a fancier dough to start with. Also this is an awkward shape to end up with. Having a pretty, braided wreath of bread is all well and good but it’s a bugger to make sandwiches with.
This was a fair challenge in an almost entirely fair episode. It was fine. I have one bugbear about the proceedings. I know I joke on here a lot about a completely imagined mutual loathing between Paul Hollywood and myself, and that’s not entirely fair. He has his credentials, and he deserves respect. That being said, it’s sad and frustrating watching him being lauded as the ‘bread genius’, and never seeing Prue Leith getting the same kudos for, well, anything. This is a woman who’s worked in the food industry for over sixty years. It would be nice if Bake Off could spend a week treating her with the hero-worship Paul Hollywood receives for his time spent in bakeries.
Next week - Desserts! (I think, It’s been a few days and I’m not spending twenty minutes watching adverts on the channel four website just to watch the ‘next time on’ again.)
Shameless self-promotion time - I’ve written a book! Friends and the Golden Age of the Sitcom is available now in all sorts of places, including signed copies on my website! (Please buy it so I can buy nicer ingredients.)