I Scoff You Down!

A few culinary notes (do you say kewlinary? I tend to say cullinary but I don’t think I’ve ever heard the word actually pronounced) but some things are not arguable pronunciation-wise, says my inner beheemoth (--or is it behemmoth?):

Turmeric is not tewmeric. It’s termeric. Cumin is not cummin or koomin. It’s kewmin. I think. Cardamom is not card-a-MON, mon. It’s card-a-mom, Mother. And what is basil? Do you say bay-zil? I tend to say bazz-il but I don’t know where I learned that.

And oh! the difficulties of spelling. Just spell that spice that makes little girls nice. Two Ns or two Ms?

But don’t annoy me about that guy that runs a restaurant. Originally, a restaurant was a place in which you could find comfort; food, perhaps, a bed, perhaps companionship. In French, it was a place that “restored” your spirits: a “restoring” (restaurant) place. This is the “-ing” form of the French verb: “liv-ing” = “viv-ant”, “talking” = “parl-ant” (although in both languages these can be other forms of speech as well.)

Still, there is no arguing about it: a person who owns a restaurant is not a “restauRANT-teur,” a mistaken English extension of the anglicized word (I will leave the semantics of these things to people who actually SPEAK French and rely on my anglinstinct), but a “restauRAT-eur”--pronounced "rest-o-RAH-teur," meaning “someone who restores.” A quibble, I know, but peeve-inducing nonetheless. (I will concede that the "rat" portion of it does contribute to the quality of some restaurants.)

Again, the French will probably weigh in with their (rightful!) opinion.

Lastly, one final pet peeve: one does not “scoff” or “scoff down” food. One “scarfs” it. To scoff is to mock or make fun of, definitely not to eat. Again, I leave the etymology to you, but I know it to be true.

Whaddya know, I kinda rind.