As found in The Deeper Meaning of Liff by Douglas Adams and John Lloyd, a “dictionary of things that there aren’t any words for yet”:
Aigburth (n.) Any piece of readily identifiable anatomy found amongst cooked meat.
Ardentinny (n.) One who rubs his hands eagerly together when he sits down in a restaurant.
Bradworthy (n.) One who is skilled in the art of naming loaves.
Brymbo (n.) The single unappetizing bun left in a baker’s shop after 4 p.m.
Cadomin (n.) The ingredient in coffee creamer that rises to the surface as scum.
Cloates Point (n.) The precise instant at which scrambled eggs are ready.
Finuge (vb.) In any division of foodstuffs equally between several people, to give yourself the extra slice left over.
Gruids (n.) The only bits of an animal left after even the people who make sausage rolls have been at it.
Henstridge (n.) A dried yellow substance found between the prongs of forks in restaurants.
Kenilworth (n.) A measure. Defined as that proportion of a menu which the waiter speaks that you can actually remember.
Kerry (n.) The small twist of skin which separates each sausage on a string.
Limassol (n.) The correct name for one of those little paper umbrellas which come in cocktails with too much pineapple juice in them.
Nantwich (n.) A late-night snack, invented by the Earl of Nantwich, which consists of the dampest thing in the fridge. The Earl, who lived in a flat in Clapham, invented the nantwich to avoid having to go shopping.
Patney (n.) Something your next door neighbour makes and insists that you try on your sausages.
Picklenash (n.) The detritus found in wine glasses on the morning after a party.
Salween (n.) A faint taste of washing-up liquid in a cup of tea.