Bake Off's Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry: 'We argue over every cake'
Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood photographed in London SE1. Photograph: Pal Hansen for Observer Food Monthly
Sunday 18 November 2012
Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood are the year's unlikeliest
TV stars after the success of The Great British Bake Off. But even
they're not sure why it's been such a huge hit
Getting to speak to Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry
is not easy. If you imagine trying to persuade the pope to pose for
photographs alongside Madonna, Barack Obama and all five members of One
Direction, you get some small idea of the hype surrounding these two
unexpected stars of the small screen.
The Great British Bake Off was
the hit of the year – a soufflĂ© of niceness in the midst of schedules
dominated by talent show nastiness – and Paul and Mary, the show's
judges, have been catapulted into the celebrity firmament. Their diaries
are filled months in advance with TV appearances, radio interviews and
cooking demonstrations. I grab an hour with them in the green room at
Radio 2, just after they've appeared on the Chris Evans breakfast show
and just before they are bundled into a car with blacked-out windows to
be driven to
Loose Women. Is it strange, I wonder, suddenly being this famous?
"I
think the nicest thing is that you'll be walking somewhere and someone
will just touch you on the shoulder and say 'I love the show,'" says
Mary diplomatically.
"You've got to watch what you put in your shopping basket, that's for sure," adds Paul.
Has he ever been caught out? "Pork pie," he says, dolefully.
We meet on the day of
Bake Off's final,
in which 7.2 million viewers saw law student John Whaite triumph with a
towering chocolate chiffon cake. Paul, 46, with his steel-grey hair and
piercing blue eyes, has already become something of a sex symbol (the
baking woman's crumpet, if you will). Mary, 77, is a bona fide fashion
icon – when she wore a £29.99 silk bomber jacket from Zara on screen, it
flew off the shelves and similar ones were being sold on eBay for £200.
"I
think it's hilarious really," she says. "I mean, I just buy what I
like. And all the scarves I wear are purely because I have a scraggy
neck."
They can barely go anywhere these days without getting
mobbed by amateur bakers asking for advice on the moistness of their
lemon drizzle cake. Paul has even been recognised while standing at a
urinal.
"They want to shake your hand, which is not ideal really."
Mary gasps. "No!" she says, half-shocked, half-delighted at the thought.
They
make an unlikely double act and yet something about the two of them
together just works. Watching them argue playfully on screen or in
person is both entertaining and somehow reassuring, like eating hot
buttered toast in a perfectly heated bubble bath. BBC bosses are aware
they have struck TV gold –
The Great British Bake Off Christmas Masterclass
will be on BBC2 over the holiday period, and next year, Paul is
embarking on a mysterious "solo project" while Mary is making two
programmes about her life.
"It's terribly difficult trying to remember what you did when you were little," she says.
Paul interjects naughtily: "Especially before television in 1820."
She taps him sharply on the leg.
Both
will spend Christmas with their families, eating turkey with all the
trimmings. It is, one imagines, the first bit of peace either will have
had for a while.
Paul has already made his Christmas pudding.
"The secret is the moistness," he says. "I like alcohol but it has to be
cooked out. The last thing you want is to have too much of it because
it takes your breath away, takes the flavour away from anything that
you're trying to eat. And a good mix of fruit. I like lots and lots of
sultanas in mine and the sixpence has got to be in there as well."
It is knowledge like this – unpretentiously expressed, easily shared – that made
Bake Off,
presented by Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins, so watchable. It helps that,
unlike some primetime talent show judges, Paul and Mary know what
they're talking about and care enough to want to communicate their
knowledge to a wider audience.
Paul is a former head baker at the Dorchester
, born
and raised in Wallasey, Merseyside. Mary is the daughter of a former
mayor of Bath. She has written more than 70 cookery books and received a
CBE in October. The success of their
Bake Off pairing relies
in part on these complementary differences: he the straight-talking
Liverpudlian and she the kindly rosy-cheeked grandmother we'd all like
to have.
"But basically we think alike – we want to achieve the
very best baking," says Mary. "It's got to be the right texture, the
right flavour, it's got to look good, to tempt, the crumb's got to be
right – everything's got to be right. And they [the contestants] also
have to follow what they've been asked to do. But within that, they've
got to be creative and individual."
They've also got to avoid the
baker's nemesis: the soggy bottom. "To me, soggy bottom is not
acceptable and it spoils the whole of the bake," says Mary briskly.
Paul is generally the sterner critic. In the three series of
Bake Off,
he has caused more than a few wobbly chins. Does he feel guilty when he
upsets people who have poured their body and soul into a flabby beef
Wellington?
"No. I'm not having a go at them, I'm having a go at
the bake. I'm not being horrible, it's constructive. They can disagree
with me." Pause. "They're wrong, but they can disagree with me."
Still, if Mary disagrees with you, you wouldn't think she was wrong? He laughs. "It comes down to opinion."
Mary
pats him on the knee. "He is difficult," she says fondly, as if talking
about a mischievous child. "But we respect each other. I would never
argue with him over a loaf of something because he knows the science of
it, how they've achieved it and everything."
Paul: "I'll argue with Mary over every cake she makes."
Mary [rolling her eyes]: "Oh yes, he'll argue with me."
And
yet they get on famously – Paul will stay at Mary's pied-a-terre when
he comes to London from Kent, and they obviously enjoy teasing each
other remorselessly.
"I took Mary to a drive-thru McDonald's
yesterday," Paul says at one point. "Yeah, she loved it. Big Mac, large
fries, six chicken nuggets, barbecue sauce, strawberry milkshake, a
Dunkin' Donut..."
Mary: "I had nothing!"
Paul: "… and then she went back for an apple pie."
Neither of them is entirely sure why
The Great British Bake Off
has been such a success – the format has already been sold to eight
countries, including Sweden which, Paul says, has the best-looking
contestants.
"There's no one thing," he continues. "It's a sum of
its component parts. You take out one of the cogs and it wouldn't work.
It's a mixture of everything – so many different elements, down to the
music, the setting, the tent, the bakers, Mary Berry, Mel, Sue, me, the
challenges, the contestants – the whole thing together with the
atmosphere, with the British countryside, even with the rain, it works."
There
is a gentleness to it that is deeply appealing, as well as a sense that
baking represents far more for the contestants than simply eggs and
flour in a tin. There was a moment
in this year's final when
Brendan, a hot contender for the title, became speechless with emotion
trying to explain why he had been inspired to bake a "family reunion"
cake. It was an understated scene and all the more powerful for it.
"The
whole show is totally honest," agrees Mary. "It's not hyped up, we
don't want people to cry… it's a totally true programme and people make
friendships among all the bakers. And if you look at them, as they're
baking, they're never cross with each other – they're
sympathique. I think it's lovely."
Paul: "I think baking's far easier than cooking, and because of that it's more approachable."
Mary: "Rubbish! Honestly."
Paul: "Making cake is one of the easiest things in the world."
Mary
[vociferously, shaking her head]: "He's very grumpy isn't he? No, I
don't agree with that. I think baking is very rewarding and if you
follow a good recipe, you will get success."
One thing they do
agree on is that they would like to see home economics become part of
the national curriculum. "It needs to be put back on so that people have
a basic understanding of what we're eating," Paul says. "It makes a
huge difference."
"Particularly as the country is obese," Mary adds.
"Yes it's a fat country!" Paul laughs, then slaps his own stomach. "Says Mr Slim here."
Will they be signing up to a new series of
Bake Off? For a few seconds, there is an awful silence.
"I'll be doing it," Paul says finally.
"We'll be there," adds Mary brightly. "The team will be there."
A nation of bakers breathes a sigh of relief.
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Try Paul and Mary's Christmas recipes