‘Goblin mode’ might be word of the year 2022, but maybe it should have been ‘potato’, writes Iain Maciver.
At this time of year, our thoughts turn to… potatoes.
Yep – if you are like most people, the simple buntàta will feature in your festivities in its many forms. Hash browns are not just for breakfast, you know.
Mashed up and made into croquettes, boiled, roasted or microwavvied, as Nigella so elegantly puts it, they are the carb of the year. The ultimate comfort food, spuds do not just line your stomach better than spaghetti or rice, they hug you.
Then, if you have any boiled spuds or roasties left over after dinner, cut them into discs and fry them until deep brown on each side. Hmm, delicious with Stornoway Black Pudding and scones – tattie scones, obviously.
A survey the other day found that, of everything on a plate of Christmas dinner, the roasties are the most popular. Not the turkey. Spuds are what you would not want to miss out.
Just one question: what other way is there to fry, except with a pan?
Restaurants fear they’ll miss out if they don’t say pan-fried this and that. In many restaurants, it’s pan-fried steak, pan-fried sausages and even pan-fried onions. Geez a brekk. Just one question: what other way is there to fry, except with a pan?
We are being hoodwinked into using far more words than necessary to describe ordinary things, and the catering industry is the worst offender. I am convinced it’s a conspiracy to – I don’t know – wear out our tongues, maybe?
What would you think if you saw this on a lunch menu? Pate of roasted legumes, paired with a compote of seasonal berries, served on hearty sprouted wheat bread. Sounds a bit spesh, eh? Would you drool and say: “That must be a wonderfully filling dish which is actually very healthy”?
That, though, is how a certain chain of hotels describes its peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Seriously, that is all it is. Yes, everyone knows that beans are legumes, but not everyone knows that peanuts are, too. Yet, not all nuts.
Goblin mode rules
I must have been nuts when I first came across the word legume. I thought it was a creature, probably because of how it was described by some overenthusiastic foodie writer. Ooh, this perfect legume had been rescued from the forest floor and now nestled on my plate. That sort of thing.
So, I was convinced it was some sort of plate-sitting, but tasty, goblin. The memories came back when “goblin mode” was announced as word of the year. How did that happen? Who uses it? What is it?
Lazy, slovenly, unkempt and disorganised, apparently. Well, that would seem to apply to the House of Lords, but apparently political goblins are not a thing. Yet. They must have another name coming up for them. Ooh, can’t wait for next year.
The ‘goblin community’ has spoken!
We’re pleased to announce goblin mode as the #OxfordWOTY 2022.
Read more about this year’s winning choice here #TeamGoblinMode: https://t.co/NmC2UYau3U pic.twitter.com/yqQ9eIlIeQ
— Oxford University Press (@OxUniPress) December 5, 2022
The word last year was “vax”. Understandable.
“Metaverse” looked like winning the public vote at first. A wee bit understandable. Then there had been some sort of campaign for goblin mode by a gaming magazine, asking readers “to put aside petty differences and vote for goblin mode over metaverse as the Oxford Word of the Year”, because “goblin mode rules”.
Casper Grathwohl, the president of Oxford Languages, said people have been embracing their inner goblin. Why wasn’t his surname in the running? If I had only known.
Now, I’ll keep Googling every month, so I can vote for the next one. I think “troll” has already been there, but it’s coming up again. As well as extortionate energy costs and the cost of living, there’s a bitterly cold spell called “Troll from Trondheim” coming. Oh, great.
The Troll from Trondheim is coming
It is going to be bitter. They reckon it could be -10C in the Highlands later this week. Well, the Hebrides are next door to the Highlands. I’ll be opening the freezer door to save money on the leccy. Just kidding, don’t do that. I don’t want a bill for your soggy fish fingers.
When it’s really cold, I do love soup – preferably leek and potato. I don’t care whether it’s the usual clear one or the fancy one with milk and cream. I like them all.
It’s easy to make, so I can do it myself. I am just hesitating since that incident last year when I nearly got banned from the supermarket. Shopping for ingredients, I got the spuds and then went to the leafy veg aisle, but there were two older ladies gossiping away about the minister right in front of the leeks.
I paused politely, hoping they would let me into the shelf. Nope. They neither moved nor even noticed me waiting.
Five minutes later, I had to do something. I just did not expect them to scream that loudly for the manager when I pushed in and said: “Pardon me, ladies, but I have to take a leek.”
Iain Maciver is a former broadcaster and news reporter from the Outer Hebrides
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