Afters - Dessert. This Is Assuming You Dare to Eat All That Comes Befores. Also Frequently

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Afters - Dessert. This Is Assuming You Dare to Eat All That Comes Befores. Also Frequently

Food

Afters - Dessert. This is assuming you dare to eat all that comes "befores." Also frequently called a pudding, whether it comes in a snack pack or not.

Aubergines - Eggplants. The English borrowed this term from the French. Unfortunately, they did not borrow French cuisine as well.

Bill - The check at a restaurant. This is assuming you want to pay for what they served you, and that you aren't already being whisked off to the hospital for a stomach pump, in which case the gratuity is waived.

Biscuit - A catchall phrase meaning both cookies ("sweet biscuits") and crackers ("dry biscuits"). Sometimes they'll call one of those slightly sweet cookies (like graham crackers) a "digestive biscuit," or merely a "digestive."

Boiled Sweets - OK, I'm sure the Brits are so used to calling hard candies by this phrase that they don't even notice it sounds like some sort of awful culinary experiment gone aawry and invovling figs, a crock pot, multicolored jimmies, and some long-lost recipe written by a slightly deranged cousin of Martha Stewart.

Caff - A cheap eatery (akin to a diner) where you might have an encounter with British food. There is really no way to prepare against this save by fasting, so just try to take it in stride, and avoid "Casey Jones' Burgers" at all costs.

Candy Floss - A dentist's worst nightmare. In an age of bubble gum-flavored toothpaste, is this any surprise? No, actually, it's Britspeak for "cotton candy," which is also a fairly decent metaphor for that pink spun-sugar carnival snack.

Carry-out - Take-out food, as if you'd really want to take British food with you anywhere.

Chicory - Endive (See: "Endive.")

Chips - French fries (why we seem so keen on attributing this food to the French is beyond me. The French themselves call this snack "fried potatoes." Well, actually they technically call it "fried apples," which gets me a bit worried about the French as well.) You will often find your "chips" accompanied by batter-fried "fish," in which case the most prudent move might be to run away screaming. (See: "Fish 'n' Chips")

Clotted Cream - Although it sounds positively disgusting, like some freak cross between a medical ailment of the arteries and milk that has been sitting out long enough to produce its own new lifeforms, this is actually an excellent topping to smear upon your scones. (See "Scones.") Courgettes - Another term borrow from across the Channel, "courgettes" are zucchini. I have nothing funny to say about zucchini, as they are rather a passive vegetable.

Cream Tea - Tea, crumpets, jam & clotted cream. Some argue that it is served with scones instead of crumpets. Just one of the myriad versions of that quintessentially British of phenomena: the Tea. (NOTE: I have now officially used up all my Big W ords. We will be relying on simple sentences and small words for the remainder of this dictionary.)

Crisps - Potato chips. There, that was easy.

Cuppa - Very simply, a cup of tea (it's logical thinking like this that allowed the British to found their great Empire, in between cups of tea, that is).

Digestives - (See: "Biscuits")

Elevenses - Only with a British accent can you make this word come out sounding semi-dignified and not like the attempt of a six-year-old to tell time. This is a mid-morning tea, as opposed to your morning tea, your mid-afternoon tea, your High Tea, your after-dinner tea, and your I-can't-sleep-and-it's-the-middle- of-the-night-so-I-might-as-well-get-up-and-have-some-tea tea. And let's not forget about drinking some Earl Grey at breakfast, dinner, and supper. The English have higher levels of insomnia and spend more time, per capita, going to the bathroom than the people of any other industrialized nation in the world.

Endive - Chicory (See: "Chicory." Confusing, isn't it?)

Faggot - Meat ball (made with oatmeal). This North England specialty has made for more than one interesting exchange between Americans and Brits at restaurants, as in: American: "I'm not sure what to eat tonight." British waiter: "Perhaps you'd enjoy a faggot?" Note that "fag", which in American is an abbreviation of faggot, in British means a cigarette butt. Or, for even more entertaining linguistic crossed wires, a "fag" can (in British) mean a younger boy at a British public school (which , just to confuse things further, Americans call a private school) who has to play servant to an older boy, though this meaning — and practice — has pretty much fallen out of use.

Fizzy/Still - A much less pretentious way of denoting "sparkling' and "non- carbonated" water (or whatever).

Greasy Spoon - Another slang term for a cheap eating cafe/diner. Note that it is the British themselves who are applying this term to their dining establishments. This should be reason enough to steer clear, unless you are just a'hankerin' for one of them real "cultural" experiences. If so, please see above for the hospital's telephone number.

Iced Lolly - British for "Popsicle," a food item that, if you visit London during the thaw in the middle of August and it doesn't happen to be pouring down rain, you may actually be in the mood for.

Indian Restaurants - The "Chinese Food" of England (cheap, readily available, and you are never absolutely sure from what animal the meat came). This is where real English people actually eat when they go out to dinner. Those people you see eating pub grub at the counters in pubs are actually Canadian actors hired by the British Sadism and Tourist Board (BSTB). These actors are paid large sums of money to talk in British accents and pretend they enjoy the food so the tourists will be fooled into thinking the locals actually partake of the "local cuisine" and will decide to try some, too.

Jacket Potato - A baked potato all dressed up for a formal evening at the Royal Ball.

Jam - What we call jelly, a distinction which may not sound all too confusing until you get to what the word "jelly" means.

Jelly - Jell-O. You know, that gelatin stuff that wiggles and jiggles and that everyone insists upon suspending bits of banana or grapes in. (I prefer my Jell-O without chunks, as nature intended it.) If you order your toast or scones with "jelly" they will look at you strange and (hopefully) not honor your request.

Lemonade - Sprite or 7-Up, because, let's face it, they taste the same anyway.

Lolly - Somehow they left the "-pop" off this word, perhaps in a early boycott against Shirley Temple and her budding nautical career.

Marmite - Only people who grew up in England can yearn for (or even stomach) a peanut butter–like paste for the spreading on bread or toast where the primary ingredient is yeast. Trust me, it's like eating a sandwich made with athlete's foot.

Pudding - (also: "Sweet") A kind of generic term for a dessert, UNLESS we're talking about "Black Pudding" here, which is just about as far away from dessert as you can get, unless your name happens to be Vladimir Dracul (see: "Black Pudding" in the Dishes section below).

Aside from the specific chocolate-or-vanilla smooth, chilled desert brought to us by the good folks at jelly — I mean, Jell-O — the term "pudding" to imply a dessert in general was introduced into American English when the members of the band Pink Floyd, in between acid trips, recorded the anthem Another Brick in The Wall (a.k.a.: "We don't need no education") at the end of which some guy starts screeching "If you don't eat your meat you can't have any pudding! How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?!" Just another family- values social message brought to us by British rock bands expanding their minds and playing with feedback.

Scones (with clotted cream) - In America, you can get a lot of bad scones — I remember introducing my friend Dave to an unfortunately dry, dense, and rock- hard version of them once at an little American cafe; after gnawing ineffectually at his for a few minutes he looked up at me and asked "What did you say these were called again, 'stones'?"

But a good scone with clotted cream and jam (jelly?) will far outweigh the tooth damage done by the wayward dry lump of concrete you might find living under the pseudonym "scone" in the U.S.. The only problem with scones with clotted cream is that they are becoming much less of an every-day food in England, going the same road into obscurity as cucumber sandwiches on white bread with the crusts cut off and other accouterments of High Tea

Most greasy spoon/diners don't serve scones with clotted cream, and many of these places are staffed by recent immigrants who will respond to your request with a confused look and the phrase "I can geeve you scone wit butter of wit jam. No cream. Cream in doughnut. You want doughnut?" Trust me: I got this response in caffs all over Bloomsbury and part of Holborn one morning in a search for scones with clotted cream.

Your best bet is to head for someplace that advertises they serve High Tea, like a fancy hotel. I won't say this often, but this is one of the very few wonderful British foods, and you should take advantage of it if you can.

Dishes

or: Various Food Items the British Were Tricked into Believing Go Well Together

"Bangers and Mash" - Sausage and mashed potatoes (when they aren't dressing them up for a night on the town, the English just love to mash their potatoes.) Despite the title for this section, this is actually a good dish, and one that I recommend you try.

Black Pudding - Don't let the name fool you. This is blood sausage, not a dessert. Just be thankful it's not Haggis, okay?

"Bubble and Squeak" - As should be obvious from the name, this is a concoction of cabbage and mashed potatoes. I think it sounds more like mouse stew, but that's just my opinion. I have never actually tried this particular dish to be able to pass judgment on it, but for a good reason. I am a bit suspicious of any food item where the cook feels the need to disguise the contents of the dish by applying a fanciful and misleading name. (For instance: I want to know who ever thought "sweetbreads" would be a good euphemism for "boiled thalamus glands.")

Cornish Pasty - A pasty from the land of Cornish. One of the many, many ways the English have of taking a pie crust and mincing together into it potatoes, meat and onions and hey keep on mincing and mincing to the point that they can throw in anything else they please and you'd be none the wiser.

Fish 'n' Chips - Apparently, you can get rather good Fish 'n' Chips somewhere in London, but that somewhere is definitely not located at the small caff under Tower Bridge. Now while I don't wish to be picky (when traveling, you often have no other choice anyway), I really do think they should consider removing the skin and the scales of the fish before they deep-fry it and serve it to unsuspecting travelers. At least they had the courtesy to chop off the head first.

Ploughman's Lunch - Hey, don't steal his lunch! Have you any idea how hard it is to push that plow around all day? He needs that slab of cheese and hunk of bread. It would also be wise to let him keep the sweetly sour relish he calls "pickle." You don't want it anyway.

Shepherd's Pie - Meat pie with mashed potatoes on top. Becoming rather popular in America, and actually rather good, although do see the warning under "Cornish Pastry" above.

Spotted Dick - I don't know what this is, and quite frankly, I don't want to know. I think this is one food item the British should just keep to themselves. (Actually, it's a steamed suet pudding, but since as far as I know suet's only practical function is to be placed in a bird feeder — apparently to scare away birds and attract squirrels — and desserts are never, ever meant to be "steamed," I'd steer clear form it anyway.)

"Toad-in-the-Hole" - This is a sausage-in-a-blanket. I don't care how many people argue with me about different cuisines and different methods of preparation. This is still a sausage-in-a-blanket.

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