Who’s the Daddy column: Great British Bake Off every day in our house

Great British Bake off.
Great British Bake off.
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The one good thing to come out of the absolute slew of cookery shows on TV at the moment is that we have never eaten so well in our house.

Daughters #1 and #2 had their imaginations well and truly captured by the daddy of all programmes about people making things to eat, The Great British Bake Off.

They watched it with the fervour normally associated with lifelong season ticket holders at football clubs. As unmissable TV goes, it was unmissable.

But like the ‘your ball, my ball’ Joe Hart/Matija Nastasic communications disaster that gifted a last-minute tap-in winner to Chelsea’s Fernando Torres against Man City in El Cashico on Sunday, they both forgot to record the final last Tuesday when daughter #1 was in Manchester watching Bastille and daughter #2 was at rehearsals for her Christmas dance show.

Harsh words were spoken. There were recriminations. The finger of blame was pointed. Sky Sports’ Geoff Shreeves was on standby to ask the soul searching questions while Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher were waiting in the wings, honing their niggling agro act to perfection.

Then they realised they could watch it on the BBC’s iPlayer so they huddled around daughter #2’s laptop and watched some people baking cakes until the judges judging people baking cakes said one person was better at baking cakes than the other people baking cakes and so they won a prize for baking cakes, which apparently came as a shock to people who like watching TV shows about people who bake cakes.

Personally I’d rather watch milk turn but each to their own.

Anyway, the upside to all this is our kids love baking cakes. And they are brilliant at it.

And who am I to discourage their new-found cake baking fervour?

Once they’ve had their fill of junk TV and their homework is done (don’t know where they get their work ethic from but it certainly isn’t from yours truly) off they pop into the kitchen, out come the scales and mixing bowls and a short time later out pop the lightest, fluffiest cakes known to humanity. Om nom nom.

One can only hope that in the light of the success of aspirational but achievable shows like TGBBO, the BBC commissions a raft of programmes about not leaving your stuff lying around the house for days on end and going to bed on time on a school night without making a big song and dance about it.