Like anyone growing up in the late 80s early 90s, I watched Keith Floyd on the telly. Something about his natty dickie bows and wine-swigging performance was enjoyable even for an eight-year-old. And his exuberant style and sun-drenched locations always seemed to be exotic, exciting, and what adults did – went on holiday to France or Spain, drank wine and cooked a bit.
Rewatching his shows (you can find a lot of them on YouTube) as an adult, I still delight at his energy, and straight-forward delivery, but what I appreciate now is the food itself and Keith’s ability to cook seemingly on the hoof – although I’m sure everything was planned beforehand. The emphasis on provenance, fresh produce, quality wine, and the easy ‘throw it in and see’ instructions all seem to be a bit before their time. And yet many of Keith’s shows were and are very much of their time. Sweeping shots of Keith rattling through the south of France in his Citroën 2CV in Floyd on France (1987) perfectly in sync with the release of Peter Mayle’s A Year in Provence (1989) two years later, or Floyd on Spain (1993) coinciding with the BBC’s El Dorado (1992-1993) tapping into the zeitgeist of the nation at that point in time.
But Keith, his charisma, his food and relaxed attitude are still much loved and cherished now. It could be because we all recognise ourselves in him and the way we cook: a glass of wine in hand, throwing ingredients into a pan, having a laugh with friends or family, eating our way around a foreign city. I love the fact that Keith’s recipes pretty much all start with frying a roughly chopped onion and some garlic and a good glug of olive oil, on a makeshift hob on a quayside, in a vineyard or in someone’s house. And crucially, he was always interested in the people he met as much as the food he cooked. He learned from them and was grateful for their help and hospitality – unlike some TV cooks I could mention. He was as much about socialising as about cooking, seeing the link between the two, not unlike Nigella in that sense – his recipes often say you can buy good-quality ready-made if it’s too much hassle to make from scratch, or saves you time. He understood good food but also the realities of most people’s busy lives and cooking skills.
While I’ve watched him on the screen a lot, I’d never really read any of his cookbooks until I got my hands on a copy of Floyd on Spain a few months ago. It’s dated for sure, like most books accompanying a TV series, but the writing is great, and undeniably in Keith’s voice. There are few writers who write so distinctly that you end up reading it in their voice (think Alan Bennett or Nigel Slater). Keith is one of those people, as I think this paragraph demonstrates:
“In the few months I spent filming there [Spain] I managed to separate the food of the medallioned Mafia of gilt-edged coastal Spain from the bubbling, passionate core of what is Spanish gastronomy. Apart from the time, care and love that is devoted to this cooking, the slow simmering reductions of onions and tomatoes, the thickening of stews with Moorish picadas, the sizzling excitement of fresh fish barbecuing over vine root embers, apart from the power or glory real or imagined – what sets Spanish food apart from the others is that it is ‘Happy Food’. And this book, really a hastily concocted sketch of what could be a masterpiece, is dedicated to ‘Happy Food’. It is just a little selection from the huge number of dishes that appealed to me: speak to Goya or Velázquez about the greater canvas.”
Keith Floyd – Floyd on Spain
Not only do I think this is one of the best succinct descriptions of Spanish cuisine I’ve read, but shocked that he describes it as happy food. Anyone who knows me or follows my Instagram will attest that I tag my food posts (mainly Spanish food) with #HappyMoodFood, never having the slightest idea this was how Keith described it too. If I had ever had the chance to meet him in person I hope this is where we would have started our conversation, enjoying happy food and a great glass of vino. Cheers Keith!
