Baker's Dozen

This prolonged pandemic, now two years going with no end in sight, has generated two kinds of domestic camps: those who have dived in, apron first, into baking and gastronomy (both for tastes denied as the outer world fell apart and the domestic catharsis of producing tangible yums); and those who watched streaming serials about the first group. Baker's Dozen hits a sweet spot of aspirational entertainment, and it goes down easy. Not normally a fan of anything competitive or even "reality" adjacent, I am an unlikely consumer of this show, won over entirely by Hulu's own advertising for this show during its other programming (hat tip, there). The ads promised a visually appealing, light, fun, well-executed fluff, and the actual experience of watching Baker's Dozen doesn't disappoint. Being a child of a certain generation, I was also enticed to see how Tamera Mowry-Housley (from the 90s sitcom Sister, Sister) was doing, and this definitely seemed less annoying and more creative than some other celebrity-infused-but-otherwise-pointless redux of a game show, improbable travel show, or phony-seeming battle spectacle.

It's hard to explain the low ratings here. Baker's Dozen attempts to do something surprisingly specific, and actually nails it: a wholesome, not-all-that-competitive, contestant-elimination show with judged food production, specifically baked goods and sweets/confections. It's sunny, upbeat, and not grating or saccharine, which, these days, is an accomplishment in itself. What's novel about the show (to, again, a viewer who is not all that invested in the reality show sphere) is its embrace of both professional bakers trying to show their stripes (and drum up their and their businesses' profiles), and self-taught, but no less passionate, practitioners who came to baking for as many diverse reasons as there are types of things to bake. I enjoyed that element, of having self-taught people competing against professionals; there's very few opportunities in this society for self-taught people to showcase that "self-taught" doesn't mean "inferior" (while also often being as good or superior to what the "professionals" can do).

Baker's Dozen is, in no uncertain terms, pure eye candy and food porn: you could watch it on mute and still have a delightful experience. It's very enjoyable to live vicariously through the beautiful and inspired creations from the bakers. It is highly aware of our highly visual, screen-oriented age, and openly embraces an ethos of Make It Pretty. It cannot deny that taste alone is not enough; and presentation here means not only designing for the group being served, but for Instagram and Pintrest as well, for clicks as well as bites. This isn't a fire that Baker's Dozen started, but it is interesting to see how they use their consciousness of our specific historical moment in time-one where a constant acute awareness of style is a kind of new normal-to cook up a subtle interrogation of our "viral" culture itself. How, indeed, does anyone "make" anything viral? One can't yell at a rose to bloom. And yet, just beneath the surface, there is a well-internalized sense of what sparks interest, what generates views (and, the logic goes, dollars). What's refreshing here is that the self-taught bakers are on a level playing field with the entrepreneurs and the professionals; perhaps it only took a global pandemic to validate personal perseverance and self-made talents as consisting of real labor and generating real value.

I also truly appreciate how diverse and inclusive the contestant base consistently is: all genders, races, body types, and sexualities are welcome here-baking welcomes all, because what matters more than your ingredients is what you do with them. In a world of almost limitless variety (both in people and food), how could we not have a show as reflective as the world it comes from? Diversity is simply matter-of-fact here; not forced or deployed to evoke some point, and not needing to be. The abundance of difference here is not meant to be politicized, unless one is triggered by being honestly confronted with the world as it is instead of something more "curated," stereotypical, formulaic.

Speaking of formulas: although the show has one, it isn't boring. Tamera Mowry-Housley glows but also shares the spotlight well with her co-host Bill Yosses (former White House chef) and shows genuine interest in the lives and interests of the contestants without being too obviously favoritist (an avid self-taught baker herself, Tamera is encouraging without being overbearing). There's a real sense of camaraderie out of the gate, both because of the literal hard work of baking (some ingredients are definitely more camera-friendly than others), and because of the shared experience of the time pressure. It's fantastic to see not only the diversity of bakers (and, on occasion, get a glimpse into their personal journeys into baking and what they get out of baking), but the amazing variety of work they produce under somewhat arbitrary time constraints (which, while par for the course in professional life, one wonders if the time parameters couldn't have been more generous for a friendlier bake-off such as this).

Each episode, it is enjoyable to see, for example, what the final challenge will be and who the new celebrity viral guest judge will be, especially for those of us who can't possibly follow every new trend in food but who enjoy getting an idea of what "the cool kids are doing." It's nice to learn a new baking term or technique here or there without it veering into formal instruction (this isn't a cooking show, nor does it try to be, but it does take an admirable pride-in-craft). It's good that the frenzy of the competition is interspersed -tempered, if you will- with biographical vignettes and blurbs from the contestants themselves, helping us to feel more invested in certain personalities and backstories (but, thankfully, without letting all that explication get in the way of the real priority: the food).

I also cannot possibly overstate how visually delicious the show is, from the items produced, to the way everyone and everything is photographed and edited so effervescently. It's fast-moving without being erratic, with a structure that quickly becomes more comforting than predictable. Baker's Dozen can't be all things to all people, but it comes pretty darn close. With a few tweaks and America's appetite for new and specialty flavors only growing, Baker's Dozen could easily keep going for multiple seasons. Let's hope it keeps going and doesn't bite off more than it can chew.

RJ Winters, 10/19/2021.