How many people out there think you know what a frappe is? (You New Englanders, please lower your hands; you already do know.)

First of all, it’s not pronounced “frapp-ay,” which the French folks might think as they placed an accent aigu above the letter “e.” It’s just plain “frap.” And in most parts of New England, it’s what people in a lot of other places call a milk shake — milk, syrup and ice cream, all whipped together. Except in Rhode Island, where it’s known as a cabinet. No one knows why.

And if you’re wondering what a New England milk shake is, it’s a frappe without ice cream — just milk and whatever flavor syrup you desire, whipped to a froth. Add ice cream, and you then have a frappe — or a cabinet. Or just plop the ice cream into the milk shake without whipping it in, and you have a float. But that’s a whole other thing.

What made me think of this was a visit to the list of celebrations for tomorrow, which, among other things, includes National Frappe Day. I’m not sure anyone knows the reason for that, either. But it certainly did whet my appetite for one.

Then, of course, my mind wandered off into the Land of Oddly-Named Foods, and particularly those with different names in different parts of the United States. You expect different countries to have their own names for the same dish — such as the incredible stuffed cabbages of Russia, Ukraine and Poland — because of the language variations. Yet within one country — the U.S. — there are numerous regional differences . . . possibly as a result of past migrations from all over the world, or simply some local person’s vivid imagination.

But take the peculiarly American creation known as the submarine sandwich, or sub. Or hoagie (Pennsylvania). Or hero (New York). Or po’boy (Louisiana). Or, inexplicably, the grinder (New England).

I call it a heart attack on a plate, but that’s just me.

*. *. *

Now, what could be more American — other than apple pie — than the good old hamburger? And other than adding cheese to create a cheeseburger, or bacon and cheese to make a bacon-cheeseburger, what else would you call it?

Well, I’ve been informed that it’s just a “burger.” It can’t be a “hamburger” unless you put ham on it. I suppose that makes sense; in fact, I don’t know where the name “hamburger” came from in the first place. You could call it a beef patty; or simply a meat patty (which would make me wonder what happened to the neighbor’s horse); or add other ingredients such as bread crumbs, an egg, and seasonings, and call it Salisbury Steak. Come to think of it, that’s how my mother always made her burgers, and she never knew it was Salisbury Steak. Nor did I, until now.

*. *. *

How do you like your ice cream — with or without sprinkles? If you said “with,” then be sure they’re just little round candy bits (also, by the way, known as nonpareils). But if they’re cylindrical — and especially if they’re chocolate — they’re jimmies. Got it?

*. *. *

I grew up hearing the end piece of the loaf of bread called the heel. I’ve also heard it referred to as the end, the butt, or just the crust. What I didn’t know — probably because I didn’t pay enough attention to my grandparents — was that the Yiddish word for it is shpitzel.

Actually, shpitzel sounds to me like a word for something entirely different . . . something anatomical . . . but let’s not go there.

And speaking of bread, that wonderful side dish we all crave at Thanksgiving and Christmas is what I know as stuffing. It is, after all, best when it’s been stuffed into the bird’s . . . uh . . . cavity and roasted to absorb all that delicious poultry flavor. “Dressing” is a southern name for stuffing, and is frequently baked separately in a casserole dish.

Sorry, but dressing is a liquid or creamy concoction that goes on a salad.

***

And we could argue all day about soda vs. pop, and frosting vs. icing. But all this talk of food has, predictably, made me hungry. Time to raid the refrigerator.

Or is it an ice box? That would depend on how old you are.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/6/24