Mother was dumbfounded. I half-expected her to tell me to shut my cake-hole when I spilled the baking beans.
Crumbs, not PAUL. The George Clooney of baking, the man who has buttered up the nation’s women with his twinkly periwinkle eyes and one heck of a masterful kneading technique.
Even if you’d never made so much as a cornflake bun the hunk of wholesome manliness on the Great British Bake-Off got you going. And I don’t only mean in the kitchen with an ounce of yeast and a bag of strong white. Single-handedly (a firm and lightly floured one) he turned thousands on.
But now Paul Hollywood is toast with his ardent female followers. Including mother.
The way we see it, he’s allowed his silvered head to be turned by fame. Hollywood has gone Tinseltown.
The baker seemed genuinely bemused and bashfully flattered when he first came out of the GBBO oven all golden-brown and a heart-throb of a TV star.
Then recently he went to America for their version of the Great British Bake Off. And what was the result? His marriage got burned to a cinder. He’s dumped his wife of 15 years like a stale rock bun.
It’s rumoured the baker’s making cookies with his young, attractive U.S. co-host Marcela Valladolid, a woman who looks a bit of a tarty minx to me but whom Hollywood has described as having “exceptional tastebuds.” Oh, aye.
Why is Womanhood UK taking it so personally? Because we have been women scorned/sconed at some stage. Boyfriends, husbands, employers too have dropped us like hot cakes for a fresher model. And heck, it hurts your (Mothers’) pride.
His wife Alexandra, mum to their 11-year-old son, sounded just lovely. She’d found her husband’s heart-throb status and a string of marriage proposals hilarious, by all accounts. If the whispers are true, we feel just as taken in as her by a loaf of a man who, once his ego started rising, failed to see where his bread was buttered.