Spiky-haired maestro who learned to cook when his dad ran away with the woman next door
into an angry tangle and written to Gary crossly. He invited him and his family to one of his restaurants and had kept in touch ever since. Friends also insist that, however many restaurants he opened and expensive cars he bought, in private, behind the bouncy public face, spiky head and vast fortune, he remained surprisingly shy and serious.
‘He knew life could be really tough,’ says one friend. ‘He knew you had to work for things, he knew the importance of kindness and he didn’t let the celebrity – or the associated temptations – affect him.’
He was no saint. He could be tricky and bad-tempered and had his fair share of spats – with Delia Smith, the late restaurant critic AA Gill and on-off pal Gordon Ramsay, particularly after the latter criticised him for serving frozen chips. But rows never festered.
Perhaps that was thanks to Jennie – his rock ever since he spotted her on a bus in Thanet, aged 15, and fell in love.
This summer they celebrated 30 years of marriage, but had been together for more than 40 (he proposed from his hospital bed in Amsterdam when he was 19 and Jennie had rushed to his side) and were one of the rare success stories of the industry.
Because being married to an ambitious, successful chef is a total nightmare.
They work all hours, never want to eat nicely at home and are generally knackered, sleep-deprived and bad tempered.
For the first 18 years of their relationship, they didn’t have a single holiday.
They bought their first home in 1986 for £36,000 – when, aged 26 and after stints at the Reform Club in London’s Pall Mall and the Capital Hotel in Knightsbridge, Gary had secured his first big break at the renowned Castle Hotel in Taunton, Somerset.
‘The only furniture they could afford was a sofa bed – which sat in the lounge – a portable television, kettle and sauce pan,’ he once said. ‘For years, we slept on the sofa bed in the front room, but we didn’t care - we were so proud to just have our own house.’
It was at the Castle that Gary developed his mastery for reviving British classics: Lancashire hotpots, Welsh rarebit and delicious steamed puddings.
It was also during his time in Somerset that Glynn Christian, then TV-AM’s resident chef, asked him to do a few private cookery school demonstrations, videoed him in action and launched his broadcasting career.
Rhodes appeared on a series called Hot Chefs alongside other members of the first wave of celebrity chefs – Antony Worrall Thompson and Ken Hom. Next came a move to the Greenhouse restaurant in Mayfair, where he won his second star. The first series of Rhodes Around Britain was broadcast in 1994, followed by a second a year later.
He was a total natural – visually striking, laddish, bouncy, but also rigorous and professional.
Of course, not everyone loved his style – AA Gill famously loathed him – but enough people did to turn him into a household name. He was on This is Your Life in 1996, in his mid-thirties, for goodness sake. It wasn’t until Gary was in his forties that his ridiculous hair finally got the chop – just in time to start filming MasterChef – reportedly following pressure from the programme’s producer.
It must have been a relief to be freed of the morning tyranny of all that gel and hairspray.
As he put it: ‘I’d just turned 41 and I thought, ‘No, sorry. I’m not Rod Stewart, I’ve got to get rid. It was very high-maintenance anyway. A nightmare. You’re talking 15-20 minutes every morning, minimum, to get your hair done. And if it ever poured down with rain I’d think, “Oh my God, my hair will be
ruined!” I don’t have to worry about that any more.’ Credit to Gary – not everyone would have been able to joke about it.
Though the hairstyle went, the work ethic never faded.
Jennie once described her husband as a workaholic, a perfectionist and a frustrated pop star who has forgotten the art of relaxing and said: ‘When he does unwind, he’s unwell.’
In order to see him, she would often get up at 4.30am too, to join him for a quiet coffee and a nice chat before he embarked on his exercise routine.
(The mornings she snoozed through, he’d leave a cup of tea by the bed and a little love note on the pillow beside her.)
He had his fair share of tics. He became obsessive about having clean hands, travelled everywhere with a nail brush and several pairs of rubber gloves and refused to prepare food without gloves on – at home or on set.
‘My wife and children think I’m a nutcase,’ he once said. ‘But I can’t get it out of my head. I’ve got to have clean hands.’
He always said the only reason he took part in Strictly Come Dancing in 200 was to show Jennie he could be spontaneous and fun.
‘After 30 years of being together and 30 years of me never dancing to any song at a party, I really wanted to learn enough to take my own wife in my arms and be her partner.’
Sadly, he could hardly have been worse. He was desperately nervous and astonishingly bad – Craig Revel Horwood gave him one out of ten and he was booted from the competition in week three.
But he immediately booked lessons with his dance partner Karen for him and Jennie to enjoy together. His latest move – to Dubai in 2011 where he has two restaurants, Rhodes 2010 at Le Royal Meridien Beach Resort and Spa, and Rhodes W1 in central London – was not a sign of him slowing down. He was midway through making a new cookery series for ITV when he died suddenly, during a break in filming.
Which, while far, far too soon, may ironically have been how he’d have wanted it. When asked in a recent interview why he kept pushing so hard, why he wasn’t playing golf or lolling about in the sun, he struggled to answer.
‘I don’t ever see me retiring. Maybe I’ll work less. When I’ve gone I would like to be remembered as somebody who dedicated himself 100 per cent to the industry. If anyone can take inspiration from that, then it’s more than I could hope for.’
There can be no doubt of that, Gary.