Yeastenders – Episode One

Image Description:
An overhead view of a fictional baked-goods town called Walnutford, designed in the style of a map. A glossy custard river runs horizontally from left to right across the centre of the image, gently curving as it flows. On either side of the river is a bustling town made entirely of baked treats. You can see pies with lattice and star tops, croissants, bread rolls, loaves, tarts, and pastry parcels, all arranged like buildings on a map. Whipped cream puffs and green fondant leaves appear like trees and parks. The ground looks like it’s dusted with fine flour or biscuit crumbs. At the top centre, large white text reads “YeastEnders”, with “Walnutford” in smaller letters below. The entire scene is warm, golden, and surreal – a deliciously baked parody of the EastEnders opening titles.

 

 YeastEnders – Episode One – Trouble Brewing

 

It’s a blustery morning in Walnutford, and The Queen Victoria Sponge is already thick with the scent of burnt crumpets and brewing scandal.

Behind the polished bar stands Peggy Cherry Bakewell — not a tart, but a proud Bakewell pudding. She’s small in size but solid in presence, with a deep almond sponge body and a warm, rich filling that speaks of tradition. Her crisp icing topping is swirled up into a blonde-style bouffant, crowned with a glossy cherry that gleams like a jewel. Sugar-pearl earrings nestle beneath the swirls, and a tiny silver fork is tucked into her apron string like a dagger.

“They’ve got some flaming nerve,” she mutters, polishing a teacup with one hand and gripping the fork with the other.

The source of her fury? A new café has opened across Almond Square — Ye Olde Crumb and Butter — run by two smug sourdough types from Pastry Park. Worse still, they’re luring in locals with free slices of plum loaf and promises of hand-whipped oat foam.

At her usual seat by the fondant flower display, Dot Crumble peers over the rim of her mug. She’s an elderly square of soft stewed apple wrapped in a flaky pastry crust, her icing sugar glasses resting on her craggy top.

“Trying to poach our punters,” she sniffs. “It’s not right, Peggy. It’s unbaked behaviour.”

Suddenly, the door to the pub bursts open and in stomps Phil the Pudding — Peggy’s son and a true chip off the pudding block. He’s a hefty, round-bottomed slab of dense chocolate sponge with a thick ganache glaze and a slow leak of custard from one side. A sprinkle of cocoa dust clings to his brow, and his face is red with rage.

“Mum! They’ve only gone and nicked our treacle sponge recipe. Slapped candied walnuts on it! Calling it their ‘signature dish’!”

Peggy slams her fork down on the bar.

“Not in my pub,” she snaps. “You don’t mess with a Bakewell and walk out with your crust intact.”

Meanwhile, across the square, Sharon Scone has been spotted slipping in through the back of Ye Olde Crumb and Butter. She’s a soft-centred scone with a jammy heart and a cracked sugar glaze. Her usual cherry topping is missing, and her expression is as flaky as her edges.

Dennis Danish, her partner-in-pastry, is all golden folds and secret fillings. With too many layers and a charming dusting of sugar, he’s got the look of someone who always knows more than he’s letting on.

Watching from the other side of the square is Stacey Swiss Roll — bold, bright, and coiled tight with jam. Her chocolate coating gleams under the morning light, and her expression says she’s ready to unravel at any moment.

Dot Crumble leans back into her chair.

“You mark my words,” she says. “The jam’s about to hit the fan.”

Back behind the bar, Peggy Cherry Bakewell throws open the doors of The Queen Victoria Sponge.

“Meeting tonight,” she declares. “Bring your buns. This means war.”

Duff duff duff… a cloud of flour bursts into the air.