Judith Woods and the Great british baker boy.

Apologies for those of you that buy the Saturday Telegraph, but I thought I would share with you this article by Judith Woods. She has previously hailed Paul Hollywood as a sex symbol and praised him for his efforts on The Great British Bake Off.

I find her articles amusing, they make me laugh over my leisurely Saturday breakfast, although I'm guessing Paul Hollywood's wife is not laughing all that much, except maybe all the way to the bank!


Photograph by Love Productions, article by Judith Woods.


It’s always slightly heartbreaking when married friends split up, but I still can’t fathom why I feel so upset at blue-eyed baker boy Paul Hollywood’s separation from his wife.

I’ve never met the man. I’ve never handled his rye and wholemeal trencher. But I feel sad. Sad as a crushed croquembouche. Sad as a decapitated choux swan. Sad as Mrs Hollywood, who is said to have fled to Cyprus while her errant spouse packs up his non-stick spring-form cake tins and moves out.

Well, maybe not that sad, but it’s hard not to feel emotional because I – we – thought her husband was one of the good guys. In these very pages I wrote fondly about his new-found sex symbol status, a state of affairs (sic) he found baffling. Not any more, it would seem.

The women of Britain never thought for a moment that the 47-year-old artisan breadmaker would have his head turned by his star turn on The American Baking Competition or indeed by 34-year-old Marcela Valladolid, his winsome co-presenter. If we’d known, we would have slapped an export ban on his bloomers and swathed his malt loaf in red tape at Customs. I hope this saga ends well; a study for the Office for National Statistics has just revealed that marriage makes people happier than a six-figure salary. Let’s hope Hollywood wakes up, smells the yeast and remembers which side his bread is buttered on.

Read a previous article from Judith by clicking here.

If like me you don't normally have a paper (let alone the time to read it), buying the Telegraph on a saturday is a real treat, I've found many a nice place to visit and book to read amongst its pages.