Jeremy Paxman: How I got a stuffing on Celebrity Bake Off

Well it’s all Jon Snow’s fault. In the last few years I have been invited to take part in Strictly Come Dancing; Big Brother; I’m A Celebrity . . . Get Me Out Of Here! and Desert Island Discs. I said ‘no’ to all of them. But Bake Off seemed different.

There was the fund-raising aspect — I have lost several friends to cancer. There was the challenge of the show: what can be so hard about mixing stuff in a bowl and sticking it in the oven? And there was the fact that the producers claimed that the Channel Four newscaster Jon Snow had agreed to do it.

If it was good enough for my fellow grey-hair, it was good enough for me.

But when I turned up at the famous tent in Pinewood, the only other contestants there were an actress from Coronation Street; a pretty girl from an alleged ‘reality’ show; and a Channel Four comedian who wanted to bake a cake of his bottom. Plus me.

Of Jon Snow there was not a sign, though he did, apparently, send along his on-screen valet, Krishnan Guru-Murthy, to take part in another recording. But the old leftie was nowhere to be seen. Not even a flash of his hideous ties or socks.

I will happily admit that I am not a natural baker. Cooking I enjoy. But the closest I generally get to baking is when I make my signature quiche. (Real men not only eat it, but make it.) Even then, there was an occasion last autumn when I forgot to put the eggs into the thing. For some reason, various people found this ludicrous.

Baking is — excuse me — a different kettle of fish altogether.

In cooking, you taste — and modify — things, as you progress. In baking, you must stick to the recipe. Even a minute or two in the oven or a few degrees difference in temperature can apparently make an enormous difference. Cooking is an art. Baking is a science.

The producer brought a tame expert to my home beforehand, to demonstrate what a mixer is. I signed up for a Saturday morning session at a local cookery school. But the closer the fateful day came, the more nervous I became.

Paxman revealed that he has lost several friends to cancer, which is one of the reasons why he decided to take part in the show. He also blames Channel 4 presenter Jon Snow, as he believed his news rival has also agreed to take part

They say lambs arriving at the abattoir can sense it’s not a good place to be. On the appointed Saturday morning I knew how they felt.

Since it was — mercifully — off-mic and off-camera, I will not disclose what presenter Sandi Toksvig said when we met that day. But it was not the sort of language you associate with the chancellors of universities.

Our first task seemed easy enough — to make biscuits in homage to a pet. Since we’d had advance warning, I had brought along a pastry-cutter which vaguely resembled the head of my dog, Derek, an elegant Battersea Dog’s Home mutt.

It all began to go wrong when I decided to try to reproduce his markings with something called Royal Icing.

Apparently, this is considered easy to make. Perhaps it is, though it didn’t seem so to me.

Paxman is usually more inclined towards grilling university students on BBC quiz show University Challenge, which he has presented since 1994, and has decline several television opportunities including Big Brother and Strictly Come Dancing

But it is definitely not easy to apply to ginger biscuits through the nozzle of a plastic bag.

Each time I tried to squeeze out a dribble of icing to replicate the dog’s colouring, a volcano erupted at the other end of the bag, covering my hands. Royal Icing is sugar and egg-white. Having it all over your hands does not make precision easier.

Poor old Derek would have happily eaten them, of course. But, then he lives on dog biscuits. And he certainly would not have recognised himself.

For the ‘technical challenge’ we were asked to make chocolate crumpets, which, frankly, are such a disgusting notion that no self-respecting human being should have a clue what they are.

I would not presume to dispense advice about baking, but if any reader is ever inveigled into Crumpet Madness, it is important to take seriously the advice about only half-filling the funny container things with batter.

(From left) James Acaster, Russell Tovey, Rylan Clark-Neal, and Michelle Keegan are all appearing as contestants on the five-episode charity special of the Great British Bake-Off

The following day we reassembled for the co-called ‘show-stopper’, which was to be a cake made to the theme of a hobby.

Toff [Georgia Toffolo], the reality show girl, chose to make a cake in the form of a disco. My new-found actress friend wanted to celebrate the Suffragettes.

I decided to make a lemon drizzle cake on the theme of fly-fishing. Any sensible person might have asked ‘why’? I have no decent excuse. It was — as politicians say when they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing — a moment of madness.

There are few things in life more disappointing than a lemon drizzle cake which doesn’t taste lemony-enough. But it wasn’t a particularly clever idea to treble the recommended quantity of juice.

And it wasn’t especially bright to stab a skewer through both top and bottom of the cake, so that when poured on top, the juice ran straight through and out onto the work-top. I covered much of the cake with a blue marscapone icing (extremely easy to do, even if blue looks a bit unappetising.)

The presenter claims that Paul Hollywood surprised him by saying that his lemon drizzle cake tasted good, and Prue Leith had taken some of it home with her

For reasons which escape me now, I decided to put a figure of Prue Leith, a fellow fisherperson, on a rock overlooking the water. I think by now I could sniff failure in the air (along with the smell of burning) and was trying to be smarmy.

I eventually settled for what I thought was an adequate model of Prue in long raincoat, with what was either a deer-stalker or a sou’wester on her head. She didn’t seem much impressed when she saw it.

I didn’t have enough icing to cover the sides, but Paul Hollywood said that it was quite fashionable to leave them in their natural state.

I told him that was the look I was going for. But on reflection perhaps he was trying to be diplomatic.

And that was it. It took two days and dozens of crew to produce one episode. I am not going to disclose who won our episode and accept that agreeing to take part was an impulsive thing to do. But I shall look forward to seeing Jon Snow put his money where his mouth once apparently was.

If nothing else, I have discovered that baking is much harder than it looks but raising money for cancer research is a good enough cause for public humiliation.

True, it was insulting for the producers to try to confiscate our phones in case we looked up help online: as if any of us cared enough to cheat.

And I’d have been a lot more impressed if the production company involved had donated their fee to Stand Up To Cancer, and if the vast number of techies had also been working for free, but there we are.

Paul Hollywood said with surprise that my lemon drizzle cake tasted good, and Prue Leith took some of it home with her.

A career as a pastry chef does not beckon. From now on, I shall stick to eating things baked by others. I can manage that easily.

The Great Celebrity Bake Off … for Stand Up To Cancer is on Channel Four on Tuesdays at 8pm. Jeremy Paxman appears in episode four on March 26. You can donate here.