Screen Time: On your marks, get set, bake

The three great loves of my life — in no particular order — are competitions, British baking and my grandma. Incorporate any of these elements into your show, and you’ll probably win my ardent and undying favor. Incorporate all three, and you’ll ruin me. Enter: "The Great British Bake Off" (2010-present).

I used to think I loved all televised contests. I’ve watched so much "Chopped" that Ted Allen’s voice alone makes my palms sweat. But "Bake Off," a competition only in the very loosest sense, is radically reshaping the way I enjoy food programming.

Instead of the foul-mouthed, ambitious, culinary-degree-holding brats populating other shows, "Bake Off" contestants are affable amateurs — high school students, construction workers, eccentric grannies — who prepare for each week’s bakes in their spare time. They are incorrigibly British, never reveling in each other’s misfortune, assisting one another in tricky moments and pausing for tea while their dough proofs. The time allotments for each challenge are actually reasonable, and there is a shocking absence of overwrought suspense. The grand prize awaiting each year’s champion? A cake stand, flowers and some loving hugs from all in attendance.

It’s all rather disconcertingly gentle. I am quickly losing the ability to sit through competitions that don’t feature frequent cutaways to gamboling lambs. Is this normal?

"Bake Off" also preys on my weird, secret nostalgia. Although my family came to the United States from England before I was even born, hot cross buns, mince pies and summer pudding have been every bit as integral to my culinary upbringing as dosa and yogurt-rice. The mere mention of Good British Dairy and Eggs in my house elicits otherwise-unimaginable emotional depths from my parents and grandparents. Because I’m weak-willed and sweet-toothed, and Sainsbury’s trips are once a year at best, I’ve shamefully learned to tolerate American baked goods over the years. But every episode of "Bake Off"still brings out a reverential pining for the Proper British Bakes I can only love from afar (at least in this timeline).

The show also reminds me of the things — well, people — I love up close. I’ve discovered my grandma has a secret White twin, and that twin is Mary Berry. As Paul stomps around the marquee growling ominously about lamination and crumb structure, Mary appears, all fond smiles and encouragement, making everyone feel loved again. She is mischievous and stern and an absolute delight. But woe betide the baker who attempts to serve her dry or flat sponge: she is Mary, Queen of Cakes, and she is NOT to be trifled with. (Mary, I’m sorry for that pun. Please love me back.) In the long months between trips home to the radiant octogenarian who judges my every bake, Mary is the grandma-away-from-grandma I can visit anytime.

So, tell me: How does "Bake Off" warm the coldest corners of your heart? Have you been craving butter lately, too? Can we talk about Mary walking off camera to have a quiet sob in last summer’s season finale??!

Hidden Gem: Each season’s Masterclasses, in which Paul and Mary banter adorably and walk you through that year’s recipes.

#RelationshipGoals: Mel and Sue!

Selectively Forget: That you won’t get to eat any of those delicious-looking bakes.