COOKBOOK SHELF
L A D Y F I N G E R S A N D
N U N ' S T U M M I E S
A Lighthearted Look at How Foods Got Their Names
By Martha Barnette Times Books, 201 pages BY CHRISTINE MUHLKE epicures and verbiphiles alike will find a lot to admire about Martha Barnette's lively look at the origins of food names. Barnette breaks her book down into "courses" -- which, she advises, may be ingested in any order you choose -- and thus the reader can browse through foods named for what they look like ("vermicelli," or little worms), those associated with religion and the supernatural ("pope's nose"), those named by mistake ("Swiss cheese," generally just a poor imitation of Gruyère) and those named for people and places ("lobster Newburg," named by the chef of Delmonico for Benjamin Wenburg and then changed when he got in a drunken brawl). The courses just keep coming. It's no mistake that Barnette urges us to browse through "Ladyfingers and Nun's Tummies" -- as she notes, the word "browse" originally referred to the grazing of animals, "leisurely nibbling at whatever buds and leaves look particularly inviting." And browsing -- or grazing -- really is the only way to enjoy this book. Dip in from time to time for an unending chain of names and explanations that can be too filling if read at one sitting. (You'll want to remember as much of this information as possible for trotting out at dinner parties or dazzling your waiter.) For example, one page moves swiftly from "taco" (adapted from the Spanish for "billiard cue") to "taco shell" (which resembles alternate Spanish meanings for "taco," including "wad of bank notes") to the Italian pasta "gramiza" (so called because of its resemblance to blades of grass) to "phyllo" (taken from the Greek for "leaf") to "mille-feuille" (French for "thousand leaf"). Not all of the food names listed are immediately recognizable to the American eater. Barnette, author of "A Garden of Words," is an accomplished student of French, Italian, Russian, Sanskrit, German, Spanish, Polish, Chinese, Japanese, even Aztec and Turkish, not to mention a lover of literature. Here she includes snippets from Joyce, Ben Jonson, Fitzgerald, Shakespeare and others. You may have never heard of "wentelfeefjes," but you'll be amused to learn that it's the Dutch version of French toast -- and that the word, politely translated, means "female dogs rolling over." (The Dutch have lots of fun naming their food, which I won't spoil for you here.) Barnette also kindly explains the unfortunately named English pudding "spotted dick" (apparently the word "dick" meant "plain pudding" until 1891), as well as words like "tapioca," which comes from a Brazilian term meaning "to squeeze out the dregs." She does all of this with a good deal of endearingly goofy humor, at one point printing Monty Python's "Spam" skit in its entirety. I loved learning that "porcini" means little pigs in Italian, that "avocado" comes from "abucatl," the Aztec word for "testicle," or that "cereal" and "cerveza" are named for Ceres, the Greek goddess of grain. Sometimes, Barnette tells you things you weren't certain you wanted to know. The origin of "lasagna," for example, is less than appetizing. It's named for the ancient Greek "lasanon," or chamber pot, a term that the Romans later jokingly took when naming their large cooking pot, or "lasanum." Bon appetit.
Christine Muhlke writes about food and restaurants for Paper, where she is managing editor. P R E V I O U S R E V I E W S "In the Company of Mushrooms" reviewed by Bruce LeFavour (03/26/97)
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