On Cookery Week: Part IV
My latest attempt to convert these pages into a popular, award-winning food blog sees us pay tribute to one of the finest chefs ever to have graced this planet.
We refer, of course, to poor, dead Keith Floyd, author of the classic volume “Floyd Gets Off His Tits”, the tale of one man's travels to the world's cookery hotspots, and the heroic drinking this entailed.
Widely travelled, Floyd noted at a very early stage in his tours of the planet's gastronomic delights that a) you can't get a decent cup of tea ANYWHERE outside the British Isles, and b) the food's shite.
In the true British Blitz spirit, he quickly found that the only way to make up for the shocking quality of the scran was to speak to the locals in an incredibly posh accent, whilst getting totally blatted on the local fire-water. An example that many of his fellow countrymen have followed.
From his 1987 book "Floyd in Spain" we bring you the following recipe:
Getting Shit-faced in Magaluf
Ingredients: Posh accent, nice hat, expense account, hedge
Method: Start the evening at a place called "Lennys", lining your stomach for the ordeal ahead with double egg and chips and three pints of cider
Drink heavily in a number of bars, whilst telling a number of increasingly lengthy and increasingly baudy anecdotes about getting shit-faced in many, many of the world's finest gastronomic regions.
Start with the most expensive wines, before – as the evening progresses – lowering your sights a little and finishing with the local brain-rot, and if things take a turn for the worse – your own urine
Have a dodgy burger served by some overweight orange woman from Tilbury who thought she was moving to Spain to live the dream, but ended up cooking burgers for drunk people at four in the morning. Sick inna hedge.
Repeat.
Sick onna man being sick inna hedge – the truly legendary "double chunder"
What a guy.
The sommelier recommends: Si si si si SAN MIGUEL! Then sick inna hedge
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