Dear Paul Hollywood,
You are quite the boy - with your sparkly blue eyes and your cheeky sense of humour. And you can bake - all the lovely, carb-y, bread-y stuff that makes me ridiculously happy - if ridiculously bloated as well.
I tried to resist your charms. I really did. I vowed that I would not watch this series of the ‘Great British Bake Off’ because it would just be too painful.
Because earlier this year I broke up with baked goods. I joined Slimming World and vowed as the big 4-0 loomed that I would finally, finally get to target weight.
The reality of that is that me and bread, and buns and biscuits, are no longer in a loving and fulfilling relationship. (PS: I could still have bread and buns and all - but with me, such goods are like a can of Pringles - once I pop, I can’t stop, so I have to take an all or nothing approach).
So it seemed obvious that watching ‘Bake Off’ would be a cruel form of torture - and lead me down a very slippery slope towards temptation.
I would struggle to watch each episode without being overcome with a craving for icing topped, burnt turnovers and thick slices of plain bread clattered in real butter. (Even writing this is making me weep).
But as the weeks went on, you wore me down, Paul - glaring out from the Iplayer at me with those eyes and the promise of great bakes, delicious desserts and not a whisper of a soggy bottom.
So, my resolve crumbled and I found myself binge watching all previous episodes of this series while sick last weekend. Once I stopped, I couldn’t stop. I had to see the dough rise. I had to see the show-stoppers succeed or fail. I had to to see who the master baker was - even though we all know, Paul, that it’s you. It’s always you.
But, my big 4-0 looms still Paul and I can’t give into temptation and actually eat buns. It would do me no good in the long run, so I have to find other things to admire while watching. Of course, top of the list is you. I like a man who knows how to handle his dough and can knead like a pro.
But I’d be lying if I said that was the only thing which caught my eye. Because Paul, something else had me dizzy with jealousy and I wondered if you could help? How on earth do those ovens stay so clean? Is it one glance from your super sparkly eyes that does it? If so, I know an oven that you could have a great time with,