Final Word – Spice bag, you ludraman

A couple of months ago I was travelling from Enniskillen to Omagh on a good Samaritan task (obviously such a task is the only reason one would venture to Fermanagh)  when I felt a little peckish.

Hunger makes one extra observant and I spotted a small food truck on the outskirts of Omagh where I thought I might find a bacon and egg soda or something equally as haute cuisine.

Sadly an egg soda was beyond them but they did have something called a spice bag on the menu. This was new to me and sounding exotic I opted for the delicacy.

Transpires a spice bag is chips with all kinds of Chinese spices and chillis added and, if one is fortunate, pieces of shredded chicken thrown in.

I am still not sure if I enjoyed said spice bag but I was reminded of it last week when the Oxford English dictionary announced the Irish words it was adding to its contents.

I like the idea of an English dictionary stealing Irish words since it was that very nation who did all it could over the years to kill Irish as a language. But, I suppose, once a colonist always a colonist.

Spice bag headed the list of such words. I was intrigued that this piece of gourmet exotica should have emanated from the land of the potato and cabbage but the dictionary description suggests it is an Irish dish bringing together Irish and Chinese food styles, which originated in a restaurant in Dublin called the Sunflower, but at least the potato still features in the chips.

It is also, I assume, something that Trump will not be able to put tariffs on – perhaps.

Having gone in search of the spice bag definition I was delighted to see that there was in fact a full range of so-called Irish words that were being appropriated by the English.

My favourite, and indeed one of my favourite words per se is ‘ludraman’, which is defined as a lazy, unproductive, or stupid person (especially a man). Rather than being offended by this it is wonderful to know that females can also be called a ludraman as I had always assumed it referred only to males. I am a little disappointed that it will now feature in an English dictionary because more English people may encounter it and this will undermine somewhat the pleasure of calling an English person a ludraman and seeing them reel in confusion while instinctively knowing it is an insult.

I am also hoping that next year latchico will find its way into contention, a word so beloved by the wonderful Kevin McAleer.

I suppose if the English did find out what ludraman means it might leave them ‘morto’ another inductee to the dictionary. Most of us have found ourselves morto at one time or another. If you have never found yourselves in a morto situation then you might consider your self to be ‘class’ as in excellent, fantastic or great which the dictionary reckons came from the Derry Girls programme. It may be news to them but class was being used a long time before Lisa McGee even thought of young women from Derry being funny.

Which leaves us with the final nominations, ‘mineral’, ‘blaa’ (the Waterford bread roll, essentially a bap), ‘debs’ (final year school formal dance) and ‘acting the maggot’.

From these I would suggest that anyone wishing to attend a formal is indeed acting the maggot since it was far from formals we were all reared and we would be better off being at home with a mineral and a toasted blaa – class!