Something Rhymes with Purple - Scoff

Episode Date: October 26, 2021

Happy 175th birthday to Auguste Escoffier! In honour of the founding father of the modern restaurant we invite you Purple People, to join us in some fine dining today.  Please let maitre d’hotel Brandreth sit you at your table (with its impeccably white table cloth) and waitron Dent will soon be here to serve you today’s finest offering of delectable culinary language. Soup is definitely off the menu (as are brown shoes…Gyles will explain!) and let’s hope you don’t order anything that is an ‘86’.  That aside, as a purple person you are most certainly a WKF and therefore ‘Mr. Save’ has been called throughout this finest of establishments, ensuring your entertainment and wordy appetite will be satisfied today.  If you have a linguistic query or a tale from the table we’d love to hear it at [e-mail].  A Somethin’ Else production. To buy SRWP mugs and more head to.... https://kontraband.shop/collections/something-rhymes-with-purple  If you would like to sign up to Apple Subs please follow this link https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/something-rhymes-with-purple/id1456772823 and make sure that you are running the most up-to-date IOS on your computer/device otherwise it won’t work.  If you would like to see Gyles and Susie LIVE and in person on our Something Rhymes With Purple UK Tour then please go to https://www.tiltedco.com/somethingrhymeswithpurple for tickets and more information.  Susie’s trio: Pessundate - To cast down or ruin Timdoodle - Silly fellow (Cornish dialect)  Linnard - Last person to finish when you’ve sat down for a meal Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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So, if you want more Purple, and you want to support us on the show, then go to Apple Podcasts. Make sure you're using the most up-to-date version of the app, and sign up today. There's no better day. Welcome to another episode of Something Rhymes with Purple. And this week, we're indulging in some fine dining. I'm sitting across a table from the beautiful Susie Dent. The candle is lit, the wonderful crisp white tablecloth is gleaming. It's silver service where we are. I'm just getting carried away in a world of fantasy,

because in fact Susie Dent is in Oxford, England, I am in London, England. And we're talking, as it were, remotely about words and language. That is what Something Rhymes with Purple is all about. And fine dining is what's on the menu. But fine dining is not something that is part of my life at the moment. Is it part of yours, Susie, at the moment? Oh, no, not at all. I mean, I have been to a few restaurants, I have to say, but I can't remember the last time I went to a very, very swanky restaurant. It hasn't happened for long before the pandemic, I have to say. Well, one of the reasons that I'm not going to swanky restaurants at the moment is I am travelling

the length and breadth of the country promoting promoting my autobiography, Old Boy Out. And it means that I'm in a different place every day. And so I spend my life, I get to the railway station, I'm afraid, I say I'm afraid, I'm grateful that they're there. I go into Starbucks or Cafe Nero or wherever, and I get myself yet another panini or yet another egg sandwich, and I'm just living on sandwiches. What about you? Are you travelling around the country and eating all the wrong things? Yes, so I've been doing a few literary

festivals, which has been a joy. I'm starting my tour again. I've got one in Chester this autumn and then kicking off in earnest in 2022. But there's always a very strange, I'm going to use disconnect as a noun here, which I used to hate, but now I've just, I'm afraid, joined the ranks of people using disconnect. There is a strange disconnect between sitting in what is often a quite homely but shabby dressing room at the back of the theatre, because, of course, all the money is spent on front of house, quite rightly, and hearing people drinking their wine in the bar in the theatre or only a couple of rooms away from you. And sometimes they'll be eating, and you can hear this sort of joy in merrymaking, et cetera.

And there you are eating your solo pizza, which you've taken away from the local whatever. It's a sort of strange life, but we do love it. And I think the moment we get on stage and meet the people who are equally passionate about our subject, that's when it really matters, isn't it? You're quite right. It can be quite bleak backstage.

I occasionally take photographs and tweet them of cracked basins or I open a fridge and there is milk that has been there for many months. And I photograph so that people can realise the full horror of it. I was somewhere very lovely though, Farsley, not far from Pudsey, not far from Leeds. And it was a converted mill. And it was like cabaret. There were people sitting around tables with drinks. And I decided not to go backstage. I didn't go into the dressing room. I just mingled with the people. And it was much more fun. And I was signing books beforehand. And somebody bought me a drink, which was so lovely during the interval, just a ginger beer, because obviously I don't drink alcohol, particularly when I'm performing.

But the point is, we're going to talk about fine dining. And I have in my life, as the years go by, I am less and less interested in fine dining. But I've led a very privileged life. And I've wined and dined at some of the most famous hotels in the world. We're going to talk, I'm sure, about the Ritz, and indeed the word Ritz, the Ritz Hotel in London, in Paris, in Madrid. I've dined at the Savoy, and I've dined at brilliant and beautiful restaurants like the Manoir Catechison. It's been a privileged life. So let's begin, let's talk. If you're listening to this podcast on the week it comes out, then this Thursday is the 175th birthday of a man called Auguste Escoffier, who is one of the founders of Fine Feasting. We can talk about Escoffier. I think he was the chef at the London Ritz for a while. Is he the origin of the word to scoff? As in eating? No, wouldn't that be brilliant? If you'd, you know, I've never, ever made that link at all, which is brilliant.

But no, because to scoff, yes, it can mean to eat voraciously. Of course, it can also mean to kind of speak derisively of somebody. But that is actually a lot earlier. It goes back to the, well, hang on, when was the scoffier alive? Well, a scoffier, I mean, he was known in the French press as the roi des cuisiniers, Scoffier, I mean, he was known in the French press as the roi des cuisiniers et cuisinier des rois, king of chefs and chef of kings. And he revolutionised cuisine in the late 19th, 30th, 20th century.

So that's the sort of, it's the turn of the 20th century. And much of the way restaurants operate around the world today is now down to him. OK, so Scoff is a variant that came about in the 19th century, sort of 1850s really, a variant of scaff, which is another dialect word meaning, again, to sort of eat voraciously. But I think if you scoff something, I'm not sure you would scoff at a fine establishment

like the Manoir that you mentioned, which incidentally was probably the last time I ever ate somewhere very posh. It was the one and only time I've ever been there. And it was absolutely lovely. The great advantage I have of being so much older than you and almost anybody I know is that when I was at Oxford University, now more than 50 years ago, working as a waiter at a local restaurant was Raymond Blanc, who later became the founder of the Manoir Quatre Saisons.

And so I met him when he was a teenager. Amazing. So that does help me get the table that I want, simply because we were teenagers together, which is pretty fantastic. It was, I have to say, the best meal I think I have probably ever had. And it was entirely vegetarian and everybody else looked on in envy because they were all from his own garden own garden oh it's that all the vegetables was absolutely brilliant anyway well let's get into fine dining yeah i mean can we begin with the word to dine

what is the origin of that well that's simply from the french as simple as that so we took that from the french because it was the language of prestige of course as french was seen as the language of prestige, of course. French was seen as the language of the kind of upper classes. And so to dine was to eat the principal meal of the day. And it was usually taken at midday at that point. But actually, it goes all the way back to the 13th century. So we probably took that from the Norman conquerors when they came over. So if it was taken at midday, dinner was at midday, when did lunch and luncheon come

in? So lunch is a bit earlier. So luncheon for a start is, although it sounds like the posh version of lunch, we made that up. Lunch came first and lunch simply meant a chunk or a lump of wood. It's actually linked to lump weirdly. And because we wanted to poshify it a little bit, we decided to add the E-O-N at the end, luncheon. Sounded much better to us. And that came about in the 19th century, very early on. So even as early as kind of 1801. You make me glad to be alive, Susie Dent. But no, you really do, because it never occurred to me that lunch wasn't an abbreviation of luncheon. No, no.

I mean, lunch comes first. And in fact, the E-O-N at the end is a kind of aggrandisement of the simple lunch to make it seem grander. Yes, we often do that. I'm not sure poshify is a word, but I'm going to use it as a word. So remember that the Welsh rarebit, most people think Welsh rarebit in British English came before the Welsh rabbit. And that rabbit was a just sort of joking alteration of Welsh rarebit. Most people think Welsh rarebit in British English came before the Welsh rabbit, and that rabbit was a just sort of joking alteration of Welsh rarebit. And for those people who don't know what we're talking about, a Welsh rarebit is essentially quite fancy cheese on toast. Yes, with all sort of ale and Worcestershire sauce and all sorts of lovely

things dipped in. But actually, it began as Welsh rabbit, and it was a mocking reference to the Welsh who they thought couldn't even afford rabbit. And so all they could afford was cheese on toast. And because rabbit, Welsh rabbit sounded a bit inferior, and we wanted to smarten it up a bit, we decided to call it Welsh rabbit, but that came afterwards. Well, we know that breakfast is breaking the fast after night. Luncheon, we've now described. Well, we know that breakfast is breaking the fast after night. Luncheon we've now described. Dinner is your main meal of the day. Dinner, as in the French, dîner, very good.

And if we are having fine dining at your dining table, there will be a beautiful napkin, napuri, laid on the table. Napkin, we've talked about before, I think. Napkin is a little nap. So the kin means a diminutive. And the nap goes back to the French nap for tablecloth. And actually, if you remember, that's where we get an apron from because it was a napron originally. It was a tablecloth that you put around yourself.

And then eventually a napron, a napron became a napron and then an apron. So we sit it out with our lovely napkin and there's beautiful silverware and you get silver service. What is silver service? Silver service, that's not mentioned until the 1970s. And it simply means that you are attended at the table. So quite often a plate will have a cloche on it, one of those fancy lids, that if you're at a really posh restaurant, the waiters will, if you have three waiters standing around the table, they will each have a hand in the cloche and there will be a ta-da moment where they lift the cloches all at the same time. And silver surface means that you are simply served from the platter that the waiter takes to the table.

I was recently, not that long ago, before the pandemic, but not that long ago, I think it was the Georges V in Paris. And I went, yeah, a very grand meal where we each had a waiter. There were four of us at the table, each had a waiter. And we also had a little side table by each of us for our hand bags. Worse than that, when you went to the loo, including mine, I think they wanted to see that I had a wallet and I could put it on the table so I could keep an eye on it. They certainly kept an eye on you when you went to the loo. The waiter escorted you to the loo and escorted you back. It was so disconcerting.

And we had as a starter, because they recommended it, a stuffed tomato. My dear, it was one tomato stuffed inside another tomato stuffed inside a third tomato. And in between, there was a tomato sorbet. I mean, it was absurd, completely absurd. It was so grand. Wait till you hear this. This meal for four people, wait for it, cost more than £2,000. Our friend, Jay Rayner, who has a fantastic podcast called Out to Lunch, wrote possibly the most

scathing review of any restaurant I have ever read. And he received something quite similar at the Georges Sank. And it was also, it was charred. I mean, it was burnt to beyond recognition. And I mean, it's a tour de force, his critique of the Georges Saint. And I think he got a rather snooty reply from the restaurant. But yeah, it's brilliantly written. And as you say, ridiculous amounts of money. I'm sure our lawyers would like us to point out that there are often days when you get a really good meal at the Georges Saint. Oh, I'm sure. It's phenomenal.

I'm sure. It's just that this is a fabulous piece of writing on one particular day. Yeah, exactly. Well, so the waiters look after us. They also serve who only stand and wait. What is the origin of the word for a waiter? Waiting a table. Yes, well, that is exactly what they are doing.

They are to wait in the sense of attending. And that was one of the earliest meanings. So a wait was the duty of keeping guard by day. So, for example, in the waters of the Tower of London, they would have what was called a day's wait. And that was their duty of keeping guard by day. And then a wait, you have lady in waiting. It's the same idea. It's attendance at court of a lord or a lady.

Very good. Simple as that. Yeah. So that's a waiter. And a waitress is simply a female version of that often they're now called servers though in america maybe they're called more servers well there's one word in the dictionary which i have never heard ever but it often comes up on countdown and i find myself having to justify it being in the dictionary even though i have never heard it

and that's a waitron which is the gender neutral way, apparently, in North America of referring to your waiter. But I've never heard that. I've heard server a lot in the States, but never a waitron. Can I have some attention, waitron? Yes. Doesn't sound good, does it? There is a restaurant I know in London where at your table there's a little light. And if you want service, you can press the button and it lights up.

I quite like that because then rather than having to wave your hand in the air, you know, to get attention. And do that ridiculous bill signing thing, which I still find myself doing if the waiter or waitress or waiter on is far away across the other side of the room and you do that stupid thing that you're signing as though nobody's ever signed anything for a very long time. Yeah, we need to up our game, don't we really, I think. The hand gestures are all very strange. Anyway, you carry on. A soup, I imagine. Well, actually, what is this? I mean, obviously, one knows.

Who was it who sent a note? I think it was, I'm going to get this right. I think it was F.E. Smith, who was entertaining somebody at Balliol College. And the chef sent over suggestions for what should be eaten at the lunch. And he simply sent the menu back to the chef saying, gentlemen, do not eat soup at luncheon. It's like you don't wear brown shoes in London. Did you know that? No. Gentlemen never wears brown shoes in London, possibly on a Sunday, but certainly not during

the week. It's just something a gentleman doesn't do, like a gentleman doesn't eat soup at luncheon. So just never, if you're, look, the point I'm saying to you, Susie, if you're taken out by a bloke at lunch and he suggests the soup, you know he's no gentleman. Check his shoes. If they're brown, he's no gentleman. It's a weekday. Just step no further. You need my advice there.

And I'm giving you some fatherly advice. Avoid men who offer you soup at lunch, particularly gazpachos and wear brown shoes. I love gazpacho, but it's so dangerous. It gets all over your face and your bowl. Well, soup is dangerous anyway, let's face it. It is. Yeah, that and spaghetti, I think,

are the two absolute no-nos if you don't want to make a total fool of yourself. I've got to the age when I want to actually tuck my napkin into my shirt collar, you know, and cover my front with a napkin, or become one of those people. And you see rather precious men who have dainted chains around their neck with little clips on, and they clip the napkin. Yes. Do you know, I couldn't possibly live with such a man. Honestly, I really couldn't. I mean, oh my, oh my goodness.

So now we're telling you, listeners, beware. If you are looking for a new man in your life, avoid the men who wear brown shoes, order soup at lunch, and have their napkins tied around their neck with little chains. I'm writing my list now. So you've got the soup, then you've got the Amuse Bouche as well,

if you're lucky, the things that will just tickle your mouth. Also called more casually Amuse Goal. Amuse Goal, exactly. Yes, anything that entertains your mouth. I absolutely love that. And those are the little freebies that you get in between things, which are extremely nice. What I would like to get onto, given that you've been a waiter and I've been a waitress, is to get onto the lingo, because I find the tribal lingo of waiters and waitresses and waiterons very funny and very interesting. And I think every restaurant has their own, but should we get to that after the break? We've done food a lot. For anybody who wants to know the origins of the food that you might eat at one of these incredibly posh restaurants, then do look back in our archive

because we've done lots and lots about the etymology of food. The waiter standing up to the right of me is now going to escort me to the loo. And then we'll be back to talk about waiter lingo. Are you ever minding your own business and start to wonder, is the Great Pacific Garbage Patch real? How do the Northern Lights happen? Why is weed not legal yet? I'm Jonathan Van Ness, and every week on Getting Curious, I sit down for a gorgeous conversation with a brilliant expert to learn all about something that makes me curious. Join me every Wednesday as we set off on a stunning journey of curiosity on a new subject and dive into the archive of more than 370 episodes. Listen to Getting Curious wherever you get your podcasts.

What was the last thing that filled you with wonder, that took you away from your desk or your car in traffic? Well, for us, and I'm going to guess for some of you, that thing is... Anime! Hi, I'm Nick Friedman. I'm Lee Alec Murray. And I'm Leah President.

And welcome to Crunchyroll Presents The Anime Effect. It's a weekly news show. With the best celebrity guests. And hot takes galore. So join us every Friday wherever you get your podcasts and watch full video episodes on Crunchyroll or on the Crunchyroll YouTube channel. Welcome back to Something Wise with Purple, where we are talking about fine dining, something that neither Jazza or I have done for a very, very long time. But before the break, I mentioned that I would like to dip into the language, the secret codes that are swapped by serving staff at a restaurant, because inevitably they will have customers that they don't like, customers that they approve of, and their own codes for when things go spectacularly wrong and i think anybody who watches cookery programs like master chef which i think is now syndicated across the

world they will know that they're always in these incredibly quite aggressive sometimes but bustling energetic kitchens are always things that are kind of passed over the heads of some people directly to another person to indicate something or other. So shall I start with the customers? Okay. So if you, and some of these are very sexist, so I apologise for these, but these were collected when I was writing a book on tribal vocabularies. So if you're about a job du jour, that is a way to speak for a fit customer, a hot customer, in other words, often shortened to JDJ. So if word gets around that there's a JDJ on table five, your waiter might take what they call a drive-by to take a look. And yeah, that's a job du jour. Job du jour. I love it. JDJ. I love it. Yes. And you have to remember that some of these may be very specific to the area or even the restaurant that I was doing my research in.

So I'm sure there'll be lots more of these. But WKF, any idea what that might be? No. Okay. Oh, I know. Yes, I think I can guess. Well-known face. Excellent. So it's a familiar figure. Is that either a regular or it means that Tom Cruise has walked in? Yeah, probably the latter. So it's supposed to be subtler than calling them a VIP, but often the maitre d', the maitre d'hôtel, will leave either WKF or TI, très important, on their list to indicate that this person should

get a good table and special service. So then there's the camper. And I've been a camper on occasion. A camper is somebody who just lingers, who kind of caresses a single espresso for two hours. And of course, the restaurant doesn't get any revenue and the waiters don't get any more tips and they're generally frowned upon. But I think we've all been campers at some point. I very much like cafes that charge by the hour, not by what you have. Ah, interesting. I discovered a lovely cafe at Birmingham Station the other day, a new street station, this is in England,

and there's another one I think in Nottingham, and there are several, called the Kitty Cafe. Oh, yeah. And it's both a cafe and a cat refuge. Oh. And you pay £6 to stay in there for an hour. Oh, I would definitely do that. And it contributes. If they had dogs, I'd be there. Well, it has cats, loads of cats jumping all over you. They're delightful. There's no unfortunate

smell. They seem to be clean and sweet cats. And they are cats looking for homes. And it's a wonderful place to spend an hour. You're contributing your six pounds. You can also get, of course, coffee and cake, et cetera. And apparently there are, particularly in America now, cafes where you pay for the time you want to be there. So it's X dollars an hour. So if you want to be a camper, you can stay there for two or three hours and you pay by the hour and then the coffee is free. What an excellent idea. Okay, so staying with the tricky customers, because most of these are insults any idea what a flea might be a flea oh god some oh dear no i don't like the idea of a flea is it spelled f-l-e-a as in the yes as in the insect yes this is what is a flea well this is one waiter's code for a bad tipper because their arms are too short to reach their pocket is the idea don't

quite know why a flea was chosen, but obviously never a good thing. I hate, can I interrupt you? I say I hate tipping. The whole thing I find exhausting because I feel I'm going to a restaurant. I want the whole caboodle. I'm getting the food. I'm getting the service.

I'm ready to pay the bill. The notion of tipping, just, I find it awkward. I never know whether to give 10%, 12.5%. You you think, are they actually going to get this money or is it simply going to line the pockets of the people who own the restaurant? It's a nightmare. I'm sure we've discussed the origin of tipping before. And I know it isn't an acronym of to ensure promptness. It's just tipping your hat, as it were, showing acknowledgement. Yes? Yes, that's absolutely right. It's actually related to tap. And if you tap somebody on the shoulder, you are passing on either a bit of information, such as a racing tip, or you are offering them something. And in this case, as you say, a sign of gratitude. I really like it these days when I think the standard 12.5% or something is actually added for you. And that makes it so much easier. Yeah. Okay. So a flea is somebody whose hands are too short to reach their pockets. That apparently is a bad tipper. And then there's Mr. Save.

And Mr. Save or Ms. Save, I suppose, is sometimes applied in restaurants where they have a really long waiting list. So Mr. Save is the name given to an entirely made up customer for whom a table is always held in reserve. And of course, this will be given to the next WKF that shows up. So, yeah, Mr. Save is a euphemistic way of saying there's always a table for the celebrity. Keep a table for Mr. Save. I like it. Any more of these secret turns of phrase that are used by waiting staff? Oh, yeah. So some of the orders, for example, I quite like.

I mean, I think any waiter, I remember this one, will recognise all day. So that's the total of identical dishes that's being prepared. So for example, within the kitchen, someone might shout, I need two more steaks. That's six all day. So that's six all in,

but they'll say that's six all day, six steaks. So that's just very simple sh but they'll say that's six all day, six steaks. So that's just very simple shorthand that makes things very quickly. There's hot behind, which is another thing that I remember. Hot behind is what you call when you're walking behind others, so they don't step back into a tray of hot food. Not what you might think. It's quite a relief actually, yes. Yes. And then there's a lovely one, which is when you run out of something in the kitchen, the staff will say it's 86.

And 86 is actually used for other situations. So you might find in a business, if someone's been 86ed, they've been sacked. So it's a bit of a euphemism. Customers can also be 86ed if they're thrown out, by the way, for some reason. But the phrase is definitely North American. also be 86 if they're thrown out, by the way, for some reason. But the phrase is definitely North American. And one theory thinks it is from the prohibition era when the maximum capacity in a restaurant was 85. And so the 86th customer would be turned away. So the idea is that no more, something is 86th. Gosh, there are so more. You know when ketchup runs out on your table and so behind the scenes,

another ketchup bottle will be sort of, the contents of it will be added to the original. So what you're doing is you're marrying two or more bottles of condiments. It's called marrying. It's actually illegal, this practice. And some people have even done it with wine in restaurants. So it's essentially topping up from another bottle, which sounds a bit grim. And speaking of bottles, a soldier in some bars and restaurants is a beer bottle. So a dead soldier is an empty beer bottle and a wounded soldier is one that's been partially drunk and then left. So that's a bit grim, isn't it? And it reminds me of 17th century slang,

naval slang, where someone down among the dead men had passed out drunk on the floor of the pub. So, down with the dead soldiers. That's all a bit grim. But lots and lots of codes, as you might expect, or, you know, for customers particularly, they're very difficult ones. Do you find going to a restaurant where there is very fine dining somewhat intimidating still, Susie? Obviously, I'm sure we both did when we were young, but as we've got older, do you still find it a bit intimidating? Well, yes, I don't really. I'm pretty much a totally vegetarian these days. So I used to be pescatarian and I used to eat fish. And the one thing that I've never, ever been able

to master is those seafood utensils that you would get. So I remember going on a date to one of the Conran restaurants that was right by Tower Bridge, this absolutely beautiful restaurant. And Terence Conran, his restaurants used to, it was called Le Pond de Tour, and it used to specialise in its seafood. And I didn't have much choice in what was going to come

because I think this was generally ordered as a kind of meal for two. And I did not have a clue where to start with all these clamps and pokery things. So I'm afraid I just said, I don't know what to do. I think honesty is always the best policy in those things. How about you? Well, when I was a teenager, I genuinely once drank the finger bowl because it was there, it was a little silver bowl. It looked like a very thin soup. There was a lemon floating in it and there was a spoon and I began spooning away,

drinking the finger bowl. You mentioned the Ritz, which as you said at the top, has really found its way into English. Although for a while, putting on the Ritz actually meant sort of being really pretentious and it wasn't a good thing. Whereas now we kind of associate it with luxury and opulence and elegance, et cetera. But yes, all goes back to César Ritz, who opened the Ritz Hotel in Paris in, was it 1898? And he always wanted it to be the last word in luxury and he definitely succeeded. And the one in London followed not long after. Another day, we must do a whole thing on hotels because I once lived in a hotel and I discovered the secret floor. Many a hotel has a secret floor that nobody knows about where the most extraordinary things happen. Oh, we must talk about hotels because one of my main ambitions

right up until I was about 15 was to be a hotel manager. Do you know, we had very similar fantasies. There's a wonderful novel called The Confessions of Felix Kroll by Thomas Mann. And he in that becomes a waiter living a life in a hotel. I would have been your head waiter in your hotel that you manage. That's what you wanted to do. We haven't even talked about sommelier actually. Well, let's do something on wine,

because I don't think we've actually really delved into wine. I can have a tipple while we record. And the language of the sommelier is also quite funny. We will drink deep with the sommelier another week. But now we must discover

if people have been in touch with us, because purple people from around the world, tell us your tales of fine dining. Get in touch. It's purple at somethingelse.com. Who's been in touch with us because purple people from around the world, tell us your tales of fine dining. Get in touch. It's purple at somethingelse.com. Who's been in touch this week, Susie? We have something from Megan. She's called, actually, very suitably

for our sommelier episode when it comes. Megan Boisson, not Boisson, but Boisson. I'm not sure if I pronounced that properly, Megan, but it's a lovely surname. And she says she looks forward to the show every Tuesday. Thank you so much for that. And listening to the last episode, she was wondering about the word slang and where it comes from. Does the lang part of it relate to the word language and does it have anything to do with the phrase slanging match? Well, I'm going to disappoint you, Megan, because this is one of the great etymological mysteries. Given that it's

such an important word, particularly for lexicographers, you would think that we would have nailed it by now. But we haven't, unfortunately. We don't know where the word slang comes from. And maybe that's quite fitting because slang is always designed to kind of elude us and to be a code that none of us can crack. But I can tell you that it does have something to do

with a slanging match because slang was considered, it still is by many people, to be vulgar, uncouth, non-standard, etc. And so to have a slanging match is to throw that kind of language at other people to assume that it's kind of abusive and a little bit vulgar. So those are linked. But quite where slang itself comes from, we do not know, but we don't think it is linked to language. All I can say is that the work will still go on. Well, if you know the answer, do get in touch. It's purple at somethingelse.com and no G in something. Hi, writes Graham from Southampton. In Southampton, we call the alleyway behind back-to-back properties the cut or cutway, but I know it's called a ginnel or snicket in other parts of the country.

I'm assuming an alleyway is derived from the French to go, aller. But where do the other words come from? And do you know any other colloquial names? Yours curiously, Graham. Oh my goodness. This is one of the favourite subjects of dialectologists because dialect collects around certain themes. And one of those themes

is the passage between buildings and there are just so many of them so yes the alleyway does come from the French alley meaning to go you have a twitchel you have a general you have an enog you have a jigger you have a pend you have a ten foot, a close, a twitten, a loke, depending on where you are in Britain. I'll tell you where a few of them come from because I probably won't have time to do all of them. But ginnel is probably a variant of channel with the idea of a small passageway. A snicket goes back to a verb to snick, which is to sort of sidle if you like. So again, the idea is that you are sort of going down somewhere kind of narrow, a narrow one. Then you have twitchel or twitchen as well.

And we think that goes back to an old English word, meaning a fork in a road or a forked way. And oh my goodness, so on and so forth. Maybe we should do an entire thing actually, Giles, on the themes around which these sort of dialect words collect, because there are many and alleyway is a very famous one. Good, definitely. Let's do that. Meanwhile, take us down your alley and introduce us to three interesting words. Okay, so I'm going to start off with a fairly pessimistic one. We're having a fairly tough time of it, aren't we, all of us, just in so many different ways. And I just came across this word in the Oxford English Dictionary, and it's very,

very old. I don't know if there's some solace to be had in the fact that we've had this for a long time, but the word is peccendate. And to peccendate is to cast down or ruin. So you might feel that the world is a bit peccendated at the moment. I just like the sort of vitriol behind it, peccendate. So that's the first one. If you would like a smile, on the other hand, you might like a Cornish dialect word for a silly fellow. And that's a Tim Doodle. Oh, I love that. It doesn't have to be called Tim. In fact, there are lots of variants on this. You'll find Samuel Johnson talking about a flap doodle. A flap doodle, we use it as a noun for stuff and nonsense, but a flap doodle or doodler with somebody who spouted it. But a tim doodle, yes, I like that. A silly fellow. And this one I think

is quite useful as well. It's from Somerset and it describes the last person to finish when you've sat down for a meal. And they are a linard. And probably goes back to a Latin word meaning to finish, to cease. But it is used in dialect for the very last person. You know when you're waiting? You're waiting for the linard to finally put their knife and fork down. That's a very useful word. Yes. You're the linard.

Oh, always the linard. Oh, I'm going to use that one. Linard. And I love, I love Tim Doodle. It's completely marvellous. Tim Doodle is very fun. You have a special poem for us today, don't you? Well, this week I'm going to share a poem

that was sent in to us by Anna McLennan. And I think it's a rather wonderful poem. It's written by Rose Milligan. See if you enjoy it too. Dust, if you must, but wouldn't it be better to paint a picture or write a letter? Bake a cake or plant a seed,

ponder the difference between want and need. Dust if you must, but there's not much time. With rivers to swim and mountains to climb, music to hear and books to read, friends to cherish and a life to lead. Dust if you must, but the world's out there. With the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain, this day will not come round again. Dust if you must, but bear in mind, old age will come and it's not kind. And when you go and go you must, you yourself will become more dust. That's brilliant. Love that. It is. It is brilliant. And there are two schools of thinking. There was the great Quentin Crisp, who I said, I think, used to say that he left, he didn't do any dusting. And after three years, he said the dust never gets any worse. That's one

school of thinking. And there's another school of thinking that says, actually, who wants dust everywhere? And let's tidy up. And I'm afraid I think I'm more with the latter than the former. I just like the overall message of, you know, stopping and staring and taking time to appreciate. I think mindfulness that's about, isn't it? And yeah, anyway, beautifully written, whatever your point of view. And I thank you so much for sending it in. And thanks indeed for all your emails, for getting in touch, purple at something else.com. We do appreciate it and we read them all. Something Right with Purple is a Something Else production produced by Lawrence Bassett and Harriet Wells

with additional production from Steve Ackerman, Jen Mistry, Jay Beale, and never person dated, is he? No, he's our very own Tim Doodle. It's Gully! Gully. Get on with the dusting, Gully.