The wonder of you...

Taking my Lemon Drizzle into Binland yesterday morning, I have to confess to feeling just a little nervous.  I had made what I soon discovered, a massive error.  Deviating away from my tried and tested recipe, I had looked up online for the 'Best Ever Lemon Drizzle Recipe'.  Finding which professed to be so, I set about making it.  However, it wasn't till I read through to the syrup ingredients (demerara sugar?) that I realised that the Bake Off might not be in the bag.  Right at that moment in time, it was clinging onto the handles, waiting to be told which way to jump.

Placing it reverently on Master J's desk (empty because he took a sneaky day off yesterday) I waited for Brains to bring over his offering.  We'd agreed that the judging should be done at 10.30 which in Binland, is lunchtime.  I could then distribute my drizzle (and the other two I'd made) around my colleagues.

The minutes ticked away, and as 10.30 got closer, I felt sicker and sicker, terrified that I'd lose the Bake Off to a young whippersnapper, and a male one at that.  It didn't matter that he regaled me of how he'd perfected his drizzle after making them for his grandmother, nor did he draw any sympathy from me when he mentioned that his cake had sunk in the middle.  (Have to confess to a small mental fist pump at this point).

So at the allotted hour, Mr K, our adjudicator, sat down at a desk with two slices of lemon drizzle on separate plates, marked A and B.  And the tasting commenced.

And boy, did he milk it...

Ten minutes of sniffing, staring, poking and prodding, before various sections of both cakes were finally tasted.  With my jumper pulled over my head, we waited for the verdict...

Mr K was extremely generous in his comments, but just when it looked like it was going to be a tie, Mrs H handed him this situation.

'You're in the shop and can only buy one slice.  Which one would it be?'

Yet more dithering, and then finally, the winner was announced...

It was mine.

Brains was not happy, and said that I'd got the upper hand because, wait for it, my drizzle was still warm, having only come out of the oven a couple of hours earlier.  As I said to him as he skulked back to Technical with his tail between his legs, 'Well,if you want to play with the big girls...'

He emailed me later on that morning to congratulate me, saying that it 'was a close run contest'.  Indeed it was, but as I replied to him, 'Inch or mile, I still won'.

He did ask that I didn't gloat about winning the Bake Off, preferring to bury his shame rather than have it broadcast to 8,224 Words from a Bird readers this morning.

As if I would...




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