The Not So Great COVID Bake Off

Our house is home to many, many books on baking. Some nights we pull down one of those tomes and start mixing up a confection just for the hell. Other nights we become baking voyeurs by switching on The Great British Bake Off. We love to bake. 

So it wasn’t really a strange moment when I clicked buy now on a Madeline pan after watching an episode of the bake-off where the treat was featured in one of the challenges. Obviously, by our lack of necessary bakeware, neither myself nor Adam had made a run at the recipe. There was bound to be a recipe waiting for us in one of the many books we had readily on hand. As the inspiration came from Bake-off, I went right for Mary Berry’s Baking Bible. I have been itching to attempt a recipe since receiving the Bible as a gift.

The ingredient list was short, but not necessarily simple. We had to Google caster sugar and self-rising flour. This resulted in the manufacture of the required flour from all-purpose and baking soda. Simple enough if you’ve got a softer handy, which we did. Thank you, King Arthur, for the assist. 

As for caster sugar, we didn’t have an easy straight-up purchase option. If we had been more industrious, we would have pulled out the blender or Cuisinart and refined regular sugar. But ultimately, we used regular sugar for the sake of simplicity and time.

With the mis all set, we got down to the actual baking instructions. I wasn’t overly worried. This wasn’t my first rodeo. Instructions are instructions, right?

Color me surprised to find myself smack dab in the middle of a Bake Off technical challenge.

For those unfamiliar with the British reality show- technical challenges are where bakers are given identical and extremely vague, instructions. They are expected to turn out a perfectly baked and/or constructed batch. For example, if eclairs were the item selected for the technical, a complete step in the recipe might read: Make choux pastry.

Gulp. Hope you know a) what choux pastry is and b) all steps to making choux pastry.

Mary Berry’s Baking Bible doesn’t boil down the instructions quite that far. She does manage to guide prospective bakers with a bit more detail. However, her editor must be an avid crocheter. The Madeline recipe directions bore a shocking resemblance to any new crochet pattern I’ve ever picked up.

I’d come this far. I wasn’t about to chuck the mis and slam the book shut. One little recipe wouldn’t defeat me. I bake damn it. And I can bake madeleines. So, I soldiered on.

The shock from the confusing steps rattled me so much that instead of putting my trusted Kitchen Aid to work, I picked up a hand whisk to bring the batter together. I had been at it for about five minutes when I realized I was incredibly stupid. I love arm day and all, but not that much.

A quick switcheroo and I was stretching my arms as the reliable mixer spun away at working magic. Soon enough, the batter was mixed, and the oven preheated. That was when I got to the part where I needed to fill the tins. 

I read, reread, and reread the sentence. When I stopped scratching my head, I attempted to put the batter into the shell-like divets as directed. Into the oven, the pan went, and on went the timer. 

It became apparent after about a minute and a half that I had not understood the direction. The batter was spreading rapidly. Adam was by the book, so I asked what the yield was. When he said thirty, I knew I was sunk. I had used the entire batching the one tray of twelve madeleines.

This was the end result.