I recently moved to Haarlem. The center of Haarlem, to be precise. More specifically: the bustling city center. All catering establishments have opened their doors again and the first rays of sunshine have shown themselves, so then you know it: bulging cafes and terraces. The friends who especially braved the provincial border between North and South Holland to come and have a look at my new apartment had imagined something different this Saturday – at least not with a ginger-orange tea on the couch and All of Holland Bakt on the tube. To my left and right I hear comments like “I’m going to drink my sorrows away with the bottle of booze I found in your kitchen” and “I can’t believe this is my life”. It will (not) be a night for the books.
difficult moments
Already during the first baking round – on the schedule: a whipped cream cake – we are having a hard time. Not in the least because of André van Duin, whose jokes don’t really appeal to all three of us (read: really not). I mention: “In March all bakers bake a cake.” and “Lynn, we’re looking forward to it!” Friend D. is an extremely picky eater and can hardly bear that the Iraqi Zeinab dares to ruin whipped cream cake with ‘wan ingredients’ such as pistachios, saffron and cardamom. And then there’s friend R., who is preparing for an Ayahuasca ceremony, is currently on a – among other things – sugar-free diet and is visibly struggling with the chocolate and biscuit on the screen in front of us. I myself am seriously starting to wonder whether six blocks on my stomach are all worth it and I fondly remember the last twix pie I baked.
Nice for the variation are Mary’s sugar-free cake and Enzo’s copy. The latter is lactose intolerant and has adapted the composition of his baking accordingly. I wouldn’t serve the pie myself, but it’s a brilliant option for anyone who spends hours on the toilet after consuming dairy products.
Weak, bad, thin and sticky
The technical round in this first episode consists of making six pink cakes. According to Zeinab, it is best to prepare glaze at a temperature of 33 degrees. Make it hotter than that and you’ll apparently be left with a soupy substance. “Yeah, this is a really educational program, guys,” I say. “Great, then next time I’m here I want to see homemade glazed cakes on the table. You can eat rabbit food by now anyway, because you look like a stick insect,” D. grumbles back at me. My coach will be proud.
After fifty minutes it is time to have the cakes judged by the jury. Floppy fondant, poorly mixed egg yolks and almond paste, thin and sticky icing… It amazes me that so much can be wrong with something that looks so delicious. In my current state, I’d shoved all the cookies in piece by piece, even Tom’s slightly gooey looking creations.
master baker
On day two, the bakers are expected to create a ‘madeleine tower’. Enzo manages to shake a beautiful swan-shaped baking out of his oven. It can’t quite match the stack of cakes (the whole represents a wedding dress) from Zeinab, who took the win this first baking weekend. She gets a pin and can call herself a master baker. According to Robèrt van Beckhoven, she has made ‘cool cakes’. I can’t imagine anyone disagreeing with that. Well, D. then. If you’re reading this: same place, same time next week?
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