TMA GBBO AU Chapter 2

As in, The Magnus Archives-The Great British Baking Show AU, Chapter 2.

This is about seven pages on Word, so, you know, pace yourself. I noted good spots to take a break in the chapter. I hope you like it!

Chapter 2: Biscuit Week

           Jon stands at his station after saying hello to some of the bakers. Granted, he didn’t initiate any greetings with them, but he still said hello back, and that was something, wasn’t it? After all, he could have just as easily not. It was odd, the things you can just do. He can just punch Manuela, his table partner, in the face if he wanted to. Not that he would! But that’s the point. What’s stopping him?

           Well. He doesn’t want to hurt a stranger. But he can really just do anything. He thinks he likes Manuela a bit, though, actually. Respects her, anyway. They are both very precise bakers. He can appreciate that.

           “Are you philosophizing?” she asks him now. Jon is startled out of his philosophical reverie.

           “Oh, uh, yes. I-I suppose I am. How did you know?”

           Manuela shrugs. “I know that expression well enough from my own face, I guess. Oh, look: I think Michael and Helen are going to make some spiral-related puns now,” she says, pointing to the front of the tent. Jon laughs. Sure enough, there they are: the headache-inducing cohosts.

           “Good morning!” says Michael. He is dressed in a deep blue suit jacket, a bright cotton-candy pink T-shirt, and floral swim trunks. The weather isn’t really hot enough for swim trunks, Jon muses. “Welcome to Week Two of the Great British Bake-Off! I hope you had a good week, and that you practiced baking a lot, because you’ll need all the practice you can get.” His blond hair is straight on one side and curled on the other, like half of his hair curled in fright from some eldritch horror while the other half leaned away. Or perhaps towards it, like an enraptured devotee.

           Jon wondered if his semester studying Romantic poetry had rubbed off on him. He didn’t usually think in quite so Gothic of metaphors.

           “Don’t we all love biscuits? I know I do! Sweet, savory, spicy, salty—well, maybe not salty. But we want you to make 36 savory biscuits for us and the judges to savor, preferably with cheese,” says Helen, not laughing at her terrible joke. In Jon’s opinion, this makes it worse, as now it simply appears that she is being redundant for no reason. She is wearing a lime green denim jacket over a vertical-striped black and white polo shirt and two skirts, as well as bright red foot-high flats. Jon didn’t even know they made those. (The heel is a foot high, but the toe is also raised a foot high, hence foot-high flats.) “You have two hours. Now, bake, bakers, bake!”

           Simon is stirring blue cheese and mashed-up blueberries together as Elias walks up.

           “Simon, what…exactly are you making?” he says, careful to not sound disgusted. Simon smiles.

           “I’m making blue cheese and blueberry biscuits. You see, blue is my favorite color, since it’s the color of the sky, and I love the sky!” Simon scoops the blue mixture into each biscuit and rolls each up.

           “I see. Are you…quite sure this will, ah, taste good?” says Elias. Simon shrugs.

           “I don’t know. But I’m having fun, and that’s what matters.” Elias backs away slowly, which is the second time he’s done that in two weeks. These contestants are weird these days. And he can’t even chalk it up to kids these days as he usually did, as Simon is older than he.

           Simon rather thought Elias was being too harsh. After all, the sky was beautiful. It also tasted good when he fell through it, like open spaces and screams and pine. So why wouldn’t these biscuits both taste good and look beautiful?

           He explains all this to his table partner, Agnes. Agnes looks into the bowl and sniffs it.

           “Mmm. Doesn’t smell very good. But who knows? Maybe it’ll taste good.” She returns to her chili cheese biscuits.

           “Hello,” says Gertrude as Manuela uses a graduated cylinder to measure out her flour. No one knows where she got it from. She mutters something about complex carbohydrates and electron shells. She does not notice Gertrude until Jon gently taps her arm and points up at her.

           “Oh! Um, hi. I’m making biscuits.”

           “Yes, I can see that. What flavor?” says Gertrude. Manuela meets her eyes, unblinking.

           “No flavor. Just biscuit. You see, biscuits are a lot like the universe. Much like darkness is the universe’s natural, beautiful state, biscuits are naturally empty and flavorless dough. Without flavor, there is baked dough. But without baked dough, there is no food at all. Thus, I will serve biscuits in their natural state, and they will be beautiful like the encroaching dark.” Manuela stares into Gertrude’s dumbfounded face. Jon, too, stares at Manuela, biscuits forgotten. Her tone had changed from her usual quick, light matter-of-fact-ness to something reverent and terrifying, her voice deeper and resonant.

           “All right, then,” says Gertrude. Manuela turns back to her biscuits, muttering something else.

           “Manuela?” he says quietly, nervously. Manuela looks up at him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, quality-wise? I mean, I-I respect your decisions, but it seems like one you’d regret. I’ve been through enough to know.”

           “Oh, thank you, but no. I won’t regret this decision,” she says, smiling, her voice back to its normal register. “You’ll see.” Jon shrugs and returns to his neglected biscuits.

           “Basira! Hello there,” says Helen. “What are you making for us today?” Basira looks up from her food. One hand has found its way into Daisy’s, but Helen doesn’t dare mention it. The camera notices, though. The camera notices all.

           “Oh, um. I’m making biscuits with pastry dough, and they’re going to have cheese and chives in them. I hope they’ll be good. What about you—” Basira blushes intensely. Helen smiles graciously.

           “I’m not making any biscuits! It’s a great system I’ve set up, you know: you bakers make biscuits all day and I get to eat them!” Basira whispers her thanks for Helen’s tactful yes-and.

           “What do we get out of it?” says Daisy, in an indecipherable tone.

           “The satisfaction of a job well done!” replies Helen, spreading her arms wide to indicate all the bakers hard at work. She moves on to ask Daisy about her biscuits, which are poppy seed and rosemary.

           “That was very nice of Helen,” says Basira later. “Somehow I didn’t know she could be so tactful.”

           “Mmm,” replies Daisy eloquently. “Probably has lots of practice.”

           Their hands are still entangled under the table.

           “Alright, bakers!” says Michael a while later. “You have made biscuits! Now Gertrude and Elias have—I mean, get—because they definitely haven’t been bound here by some kind of eldritch ritual that means they can’t quit—they get to taste your biscuits!”

           “Mmm,” says Gertrude as she tastes Manuela’s biscuit. “How does this taste like both everything and nothing until I think about it, and then it becomes one or the other? Points for breaking the rules of physics, I guess?” Manuela does not say that this is what she is an expert on. It is not the time to brag about her scientific expertise.

           “Jon, this is a very well-done sandwich biscuit. My only question is: why this is sour cream instead of cream cheese?” says Elias. Jon’s eyes grow wide. “Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t complacent. It tastes brilliant.” Jon sighs in relief. It didn’t make sense that he’d been so worried—he hadn’t gotten out any sour cream, nor had any other baker. But that comment had scared him a bit.

           “Melanie, this biscuit is good. Or, it would be, if you had not peeled the apples and included the bare peels in the biscuit. It makes these a bit of a choking hazard, I’m afraid. A bit alarming how the peel is coming out of the biscuit like blood or something, too.” Melanie wishes Elias had eaten the biscuit, not Gertrude, if the peels were a choking hazard.

           “Ah, Basira. What have you got there for me? Mmm, quite good. I think I’ll be taking all of these, thank you very much.” Elias smiles at Basira. Basira smiles weakly back. “In all seriousness, these biscuits are a bit overbaked, actually. But they’re otherwise good.” Basira nods. An overbaked pastry biscuit was a bit gross, now that she thought about it. She had worried they would be too undercooked, so she had overcorrected.  

           They continue tasting. Simon’s blueberry and blue cheese biscuits actually turn out great, to his own surprise. Agnes’s biscuits are so spicy that the judges have to drink the milk she had ready for them. Daisy’s are a bit simple, good but bland. They look quite nice, though, with scalloped edges.

           Jon wonders who would scallop a biscuit. Daisy, apparently. Martin wonders why Melanie’s presentation skills are so bad. And he knows Melanie’s eyesight isn’t great, but there’s a difference between fine and it looks bloody.

           “Well, bakers! It is time for your next challenge, where you will follow a recipe of Gertrude’s very own! You will make Florentines, 36 of them in fact!” says Helen. Everyone laughs despairingly. “I know, what a twist—something challenging!” Helen’s grin does not waver. Jon snorts at the sarcasm. No one else laughs.

           “These Florentines must be very good to impress Gertrude, since it is her own recipe. Bakers, get ready, get set, twist those lacy Florentines!” says Michael.

           Jon doesn’t like Florentines particularly. He’s always thought that fruit and nuts have no place in crispy biscuits. But he will follow this vague recipe if it helps him win fame, glory, and a cake stand.

           He realizes that the chocolate on the bottom of a Florentine forms a sort of zig-zag pattern. Looking around, Jon finds people using pipettes to pattern their chocolate.

           Suddenly, he remembers, as if it was dropped in his head by the powers that be, that it is done with a fork. So do it with a fork he does. He isn’t sure where he saw this done, just that it was done. Maybe Gertrude had done it on her cooking show. That happens to him sometimes, where memories will come unbidden into his head from who knows where.

           Daisy uses a cutter to cut her Florentines into perfect circles. She has made it her personal goal in this competition to make everything she bakes look presentable. Not necessarily amazing, just attractive. So, she used a cutter for her Florentines.

           Basira looks over at her cutting and nods approvingly. She does not ask to use the cutter. She knows that the answer will be no. She does, however, spot Jon using a fork for his chocolate patterning and recalls his technical skill at baking, so she grabs a fork and uses it to pattern her chocolate.

           Daisy copies her, drawing zig-zags across her chocolate with the tines of a fork.

           Jon seems to notice it (somehow? Basira is behind him) and turns around, looking at the forks in Daisy and Basira’s hands. Jon looks at Basira. Basira raises her eyebrows at Jon. Jon shrugs and turns back.

           Melanie enjoys chopping things. She expertly chops the fruit and nuts into small pieces and pours them into her biscuit dough. Martin watches in awe until Melanie catches him in the act.

           “What?” she asks, voice softening by the time the t rolls around in the syllable.

           “Oh, um, nothing! It was just, uh, I was so impressed that you chopped those so fast. You seem to, uh, really enjoy it!” he says.

           “Thanks. I’ve been doing it ever since I was three. Of course, I was cutting cream cheese and whipped cream with a plastic knife back then, but still. It was the first thing my mom ever taught me: ‘Always know how to chop things. You never know when you might need that skill.’”

           “Oh. I see. Has that skill ever served you outside of cooking?” says Martin. Melanie shakes her head.

           “Oh, no, no. No, it hasn’t. But maybe someday…” Martin nods at this as Melanie trails off.

           The Florentines are lined up in a row in front of the bakers, and Gertrude and Elias sample some from each plate.

           “Looks like the lacing isn’t right here,” says Gertrude. “Someone didn’t do it with a fork, I think. And that someone hasn’t been watching my cooking show.”

           “This biscuit is indelible, and no, I do not mean inedible. I shall never forget the taste of this biscuit. Stunning,” says Elias.

           Eventually, the judges taste them all, and a final placement is determined.

           “In last place, this one,” says Gertrude. Agnes raises her hand. They were too overcooked, she knew…

           Melanie took a surprising third place. Jon took second, and Annabelle took first for her stunning patterning on the chocolate. It made you want to look at it forever.

           Martin’s Florentines were not the prettiest this time. In his defense, he barely knew what a Florentine was. Melanie had had to explain what they would look like. They had still tasted good.  

           Manuela’s Florentines were a bit too chocolate-y, with hardly any biscuit. They looked fine, but they didn’t taste much like Florentines. Simon’s Florentines were too thin, with hardly any substance to them. He also forgot to pattern his chocolate.

           After the bakers have left for the day, Helen and Michael sit around the ‘gossip table’, as Helen call it. They ‘gossip’ about who is doing badly and well so far.

           “Well, I think that Manuela did very well with the savory biscuits, but then went a little rogue with the Florentines. It was a surprising deviation from her normal quality of work,” says Elias. “Jon is a very technically skilled baker, as always.”

           “Yes, that is true. It seems like in this round, Melanie is getting better and Martin is getting a little worse. Annabelle is doing wonderful work as always. As for Daisy and Basira, I think they need to distinguish themselves a little. They’re a bit too alike to last in the later rounds.”

           “I agree. Simon is not doing well, but then again, I don’t think he’s trying very hard. As for Agnes, it’s hard to tell whether she’ll do well or poorly in the end. She’s very middle-of-the-road.”

           “Her ideas are usually quite intriguing, and do make for interesting baked goods, though.”

[This is a good place to stop if you need a break.]

           “Hello again, bakers!” says Helen the next day. Jon stares at her bright orange earrings, from which drape her shirt and her pants, both bright green. (She’s wearing them—they are just connected to her earrings.) This is too much this early in the day, even for a morning person like Jon. “Welcome to the showstopper challenge of Biscuit Week, where you will make a scene out of biscuits. Any kind of scene will do, like a rocket ship, or a submarine, or a cottage in Scotland.” That seemed specific, notes Jon. He sighs. Fine art is not his forte. Art in general is, in fact, not his forte. His decorating had taken the utmost concentration to come out prettily.

           “You know what to do,” says Michael. “You have four hours. Now, bake and build those dioramas! It’s like primary school all over again.” Jon shudders at the memory. He is glad, though, to have four hours. “And don’t forget to make them taste good, too!”

           “Hello, Martin. What scene are you planning on building?” asks Michael, coming up to Martin. Martin blinks and rubs his forehead after seeing what Michael is wearing. He is wearing a neon pink crop top over a black polo shirt, as well as pants that look like two barbershop poles.

           “I, um, I’m wearing—I mean, what are you wearing? I mean, why are—ah!” Martin puts his face in his hands, embarrassed. He’s usually prepared for Michael’s clothing, but Helen’s was so weird today that he was distracted by it earlier, and this is the first time he’s really looked at Michael today.

           “You know me, Martin: always the stylish one,” Michael says, grinning.

           “Um, yeah,” Martin stutters out. “I’m making a cozy cottage in Scotland, like Helen said? I had the idea before, sort of, but I just like the idea of a snowy little outdoors scene, with a gingerbread biscuit house and marshmallow snow, you know?”

           Michael nods. “Sounds great,” he says.

           “Hello, Annabelle! I don’t think I’ve talked to you this entire competition!” says Helen. Annabelle thinks for a minute, stopping her baking.

           “No, I suppose not. At least not in front of the cameras. Well, hello then, Helen,” says Annabelle.

           “What are you making for us? Will it be something to do with spiders?” Annabelle laughs and shakes her head.

           “No, not this time. I’m changing it up, actually. It’s going to be something to do with spiders.” She says this very drily. Jon laughs from somewhere behind her. He always seems to hear everyone’s jokes, somehow. It’s almost become a running joke in of itself. “I’m making a loom out of a biscuit, and the wool will be marshmallow fluff, or whatever that’s called. There will be chocolate spiders crawling around the loom.”

           “That sounds very cool, Annabelle! But don’t you think spiders every time might get a bit old after a while?”

           “No. Why would it?” Annabelle asks innocently. Helen shrugs.

           “Hello there, Daisy,” says Elias. He sets his elbows on the opposite side of the table from where Daisy is standing. “What are you making?”

           “I’m making a forest. The trees are pistachio and coffee. I’m also making a fox and a hound from pieces of biscuits. I am kind of having to carve out the dough myself, since there aren’t any fox or dog cookie cutters. But that’s fine.”

           “I see. I will be quite intrigued to see and eat your diorama.” Daisy nods.

           “Yeah. Better than in primary school, since we didn’t get to eat them after we made them.” She chuckles. “Shoebox dioramas…” Elias nods. Privately, he wonders at the silly things public school kids do.

           Four hours go a lot quicker than Jon would have liked. Still, he is able to finish. Manuela helps him a little bit, since she has a steadier hand than he does. Ever since that horrid wasps’ nest he’d found in his attic…well, let’s just say his limbs were never the same again.

           She’s made a diorama of space. What she’s done is stand a bunch of shortbread biscuits up and glaze them in chocolate, sticking coconut bits in for stars. It’s quite a nice idea, but Jon wonders if it’s not too two-dimensional. Not that he would say that out loud.

           Everyone brings their biscuit dioramas up to the judges, one by one.

           “Jon, this is very nice. Very creative, and let’s see if it tastes good too.” Gertrude tastes a bite of Jon’s biscuit book. He made an open book out of two very large white-chocolate-covered biscuits over two large biscuits that make the cover. In the middle, he stood up a few biscuit trees. “Oh, yes, this is well-done.” Jon smiles a relaxed smile for perhaps the first time in the entire competition. It soon vanishes, but it was there.

           “Ah, excellent work, Annabelle. An interesting thing to make out of biscuits, a loom. But you’ve done it well. And these biscuits snap quite nicely, good,” says Elias. Annabelle nods. “Don’t you think all the spiders are going to get old at some point?” Annabelle shrugs at this.

           “Maybe they will. And maybe they won’t. You never know.”

           “This is a very quaint scene you’ve made here, Martin. In a good way. It’s cozy.” Gertrude munches a biscuit off the house Martin made. “Mmm, a nice snap on this biscuit. But it is a little too hard, actually. Remember that you aren’t actually trying to make hard gingerbread.” Martin nods.

           Agnes’s campfire scene is declared a little messy. The fire seems to have spilled over its base onto the logs beside it, sending melted caramel and food coloring where it shouldn’t be. However, it does taste quite good. Manuela’s scene is declared a little too flat, but the biscuits are fine. And Daisy’s trees actually fall over when the scene is placed on the judges’ table. She did not use enough fondant, apparently.

           Melanie did not use homemade fondant. This earned a disapproving look from Gertrude. Simon’s scene is a little too simple, as he just made a blue sky that didn’t stand up.

           “So,” Helen says later, “who’s our top three and bottom three after the week?”

           “Hmm…I think that Simon, Melanie, and Agnes are near the bottom. Manuela has also struggled this week, but she did superbly in Cake Week, so I’m loath to eliminate her just yet.”

           “We will have to see, as you say, Gertrude. As for the top three, Annabelle did very well, as she did last week. Jon and Martin both improved, especially Jon. So have both Daisy and Basira. The actual top three might be Annabelle, Jon, and Basira, in my opinion.”

           “Well, bakers. It is my turn to announce our Star Baker! This person wowed us with their technical ability this week, and they made a biscuit diorama that would be just as fun to read as to eat! Jon, you are our Star Baker!” says Michael. Jon’s eyes grow wide with delight. Martin sees this and thinks it is very cute to see Jon smiling like a kid on Christmas.

           Everyone is thinking this (if only in an aesthetic-attraction way), since Jon’s eyes are large and kind of cute.  

           “And I have the solemn duty of telling you who will be eliminated. That person is Simon,” says Helen. Simon does not seem very surprised or upset. He accepts hugs from everyone anyway, even if he doesn’t really like them. He prefers open spaces.

           “That’s it for another week of the Great British Bake-Off!” says Helen. “And now, we’d like to thank our sponsor, Mr. Jurgen Leitner. Ever want a book that makes you disappear? Or maybe one that makes you want to dig endlessly? Well, want no longer! The Library of Jurgen Leitner has all those books and more. Just call 555-LEITNER today or go to leitnerlibrary.com for more information. That’s L-E-I-T-N-E-R.

           “As always, we’d also like to thank our editor, Miss Sasha James, and our producer, Mr. Tim Stoker. And a big thanks goes to Mrs. Georgie Barker for letting us use her haunted land. Make sure to check out her podcast, What The Ghost?!

           “Thanks for watching! It Knows You, so feel free to share your deepest fears and embarrassing secrets! There’s no harm when we already know them.” Helen smiles directly at the camera.