Confederacy of a Dunce - Thursday, June 23, 2005

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Mrs. Dunce's aunt and uncle are coming for dinner this evening, so we've been thinking a little about what to serve¹. Last night after another highly enjoyable trip to Asakusa (the restaurant, not the place, already reviewed here from our trip just last week [Really, we're not obsessed with it. It was someone else's suggestion, and she's leaving the country quite soon. {Of course we may have influenced her decision processes, but that's another story}]) we stopped by to pick up a few remaining groceries. We shouldn't have bothered, though. Another member of our household had already done the shopping. There was a lovely dead bird resting on the kitchen floor, Zosi's first ever contribution to our larder (I'll not say much about the feathers; fortunately nothing else was scattered around). Unfortunately Epicurious.com didn't offer much help (despite various different search terms [There's ROBIN in "Superfast vegetarian pizza" ?!?!?!]) so maybe we'll just serve a starter of dead bird sashimi. Or maybe we'll stick to our original plan.

¹Looks like Javanese roasted salmon with wilted spinach (recipe here [Mrs Dunce swears by Epicurious and for good reasons]) and wasabi mashed potatoes (this might be the right recipe, but there's really not much need for a recipe, just add some wasabi to mashed potatoes. Mmmm).

beasts | consume

Thursday, June 23, 2005 9:44:56 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Wednesday, June 22, 2005

The Local again

In a previous entry I wrote a little bit about our local pub and teased a future entry about the beer festival going on at the time. Well, the beer festival was excellent, perhaps a little too excellent as that promised entry never appeared. But now it's time for another beer festival there, and we definitely need to support our local pub as there is some chance it will be demolished, and flats built in its place ("Demolition of existing building and erection of a three storey building comprising 4 x 1 bed, 2 x 2 bed, 2 x 3 bed and 1 x 4 bed self contained flats and parking at basement level", from the Planning Application [EDIT: dynamic link removed]). So our plans to visit the beer festival (maybe even more than once) are a selfless act of community support rather than some sort of decadent debauch. The Oakdale's website clearly shows that the geeks are in charge (well done to the geeks!): the "drinks" link takes you to a quite up-to-date (20 minutes ago at this moment) listing of "what's on" generated from their stock control system. At the moment it's quite obvious that the beer festival stocks have arrived; all of the following are listed as being in stock:

Burton Bridge Bridge Bitter (4.2% ABV)
Burton Bridge Civvy Salvation (4.5% ABV)
Burton Bridge Golden Delicious (3.8% ABV)
Burton Bridge Moorish Mild (3.9% ABV)
Caledonian Deuchars IPA (3.8% ABV)
Eccleshall Slaters Bitter (3.6% ABV)
Eccleshall Slaters Premium (4.4% ABV)
Eccleshall Slaters Shining Knight (4.5% ABV)
Eccleshall Slaters Supreme (4.7% ABV)
Eccleshall Slaters Top Totty (4.0% ABV)
Harviestoun Dragon Fly (3.6% ABV)
Highgate Beezone Honey (3.8% ABV)
Milton Jupiter (3.5% ABV)
Milton Justinian (3.9% ABV)
Milton Neptune (3.8% ABV)
Milton Pegasus (4.1% ABV)
Milton Sparta (4.3% ABV)
Milton Vindolanda Umbra (5.5% ABV)
Nethergate Dr Johns Panacea (4.3% ABV)
Nethergate Priory Mild (3.5% ABV)
Nethergate Umbel (3.8% ABV)
Nethergate Umbel Magna (5.0% ABV)
Nottingham Bullion (4.7% ABV)
Nottingham Cock and Hoop (4.3% ABV)
Nottingham EPA (4.2% ABV)
Nottingham Rock Bitter (3.8% ABV)
Nottingham Rock Mild (3.8% ABV)
Nottingham Supreme (5.2% ABV)
Old Cannon Best Bitter (3.8% ABV)
Old Cannon Gunners Daughter (5.5% ABV)
Pitfield East Kent Goldings (4.2% ABV)
Pitfield Original Organic (3.7% ABV)
St. Austell HSD (5.0% ABV)
Thwaites Thoroughbred (4.0% ABV)
Timothy Taylor Landlord (4.3% ABV)
Tipples Longshore (3.6% ABV)
Tipples Redhead (4.2% ABV)
Wadworth 6X (4.3% ABV)
Wadworth JCB (4.7% ABV)

This is not even counting the ciders and bottled beers (also available on the same report). Hmmm, going to have to start thinking about where to begin. We'll be there on Friday for sure. Once again I'll promise a beer festival report; only time will tell whether I will deliver.

consume

Wednesday, June 22, 2005 1:37:33 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Cowes to Lymington and then back again

This past weekend was the warmest of the year so far, so how could we resist a friend's offer to take us sailing on his boat?! It's not exactly a small boat so it was with a small amount of trepidation that we joined in. We got up on Saturday at a reasonable hour and took an air-conditioned train to Southampton (fortunately not the fictional one), then a high-speed ferry to Cowes on the Isle of Wight, and finally a little putt-putt of a water taxi across the River Medina to East Cowes (we could have taken the chain ferry/floating bridge instead) where the fine vessel BUGLE is moored. We were joined by a few of Sea Captain's cow-orkers (something in the Money business, I don't really want to know. Fortunately they were fine company and there was a minimum of sneering in my direction), and after hardly any preparation, we were off.

We chose perhaps a less than ideal day for our sailing trip, as the Round the Island race was going on at the same time -- something like 1700 boats all heading around the island and directly toward us (at the narrowest point, no less). So we decided instead to go against the tide (but with the wind) and head west, for Yarmouth (island) or Lymington (mainland [if you can call England "mainland"]; if you follow the Lymington link let me add [sic].). Fortunately one of our fellow sailors had plenty of sailing experience, so he and Sea Captain took care of all the details related to sails and ropes and the like.... Or so I thought until I was handed the tiller and told "Steer it straight". Well, it was a little choppy from all the ferry and powerboat traffic, and I was still getting my sea legs (OK, really I was petrified with fear and holding onto something solid for dear life), so my attempts at steering were not entirely useful. But soon enough we were underway, most of us lounging around the boat in the sun, sipping cold drinks, watching the other boats and mostly just relaxing. Despite my difficulties in the early stages I was passed the tiller again, and found driving much more to my liking as we cruised along. It was really easy going, mostly about 5-5.5 knots, and after a few hours we made the decision: Lymington it was.

I gave up the driving duties as we motored into the marina. It was especially crowded and we provided a great deal of entertainment to the locals, as first we attempted to thread between parked (docked?) boats, then tie onto a buoy without a boat hook (fortunately the other experienced sailor was also a rock climber, so he hung off the front of the boat like a monkey to tie on, and a fellow boater came by with a dinghy to help out). Then do it again, moving to an entirely different buoy as our mooring was in especially shallow water and we feared that we'd be left in the mud when the tide went out. But if you think that's funny, then we had to get to shore. Sea Captain's inflatable dinghy, however, was not exactly up to the task of transporting seven (7) people, being suitable really only for one at a time (two if they are very careful, being sure not to leave the grain alone with the chicken OR the chicken alone with the fox). The first crossing saw the passenger's trousers fully soaked, and the rest of us quite unwilling to get in. Fortunately one of the amused locals took pity on us and lent us a larger dinghy which we used to cross without further incident.

We had dinner at the Bluebird Restaurant, reviewed here but that review hardly gives an impresion of just how good it was. I think all of us ordered from the "specials" board which featured loads and loads of fresh, local seafood (I am drooling as I write this [Yes, more than usual]). I had a super-healthy deep-fried Brie as a starter and then a monstrous crab thermidor; Mrs. Dunce had gravidlax and then, errrr, some sort of fresh fish. All of it was fantastic, and those of us who had desserts (unfortunately not either of the Dunces) raved about them even more. Two of our number were staying on land, so the remaining five trooped back to the dock with devious plans to "borrow" a better dinghy for the return voyage to the BUGLE. But it was not to be, as we'd left our return journey too late, and only our own bedraggled inflatable remained. Somehow we managed to do it and stay dry, ferried one at a time (first taking the chicken to the boat, then the fox, bringing the chicken back, taking the grain to the boat, and finally returning to bring the chicken across). We all slept on the boat without incident as far as I know, and got up to a bright, bright, bright early morning.

And then we were off again, sailing into the wind. For the first couple of hours, against the tide as well, which meant that we made very little headway (on our first trip across to the isle and back we gained about 200 yards). Mrs Dunce and I served largely as ballast, scrambling across the boat during the tacks, moving to the high side for balance as we were consistently leaning about 25 degrees (it's probably not much but it seemed like quite a lot). Of course I counted the number of tacks -- I'm fairly certain it took just about 16 to get back to our starting point of the previous day. When we weren't tacking there was plenty of time to lounge on the boat and enjoy it. There seemed to be a lot more boats in the water, although perhaps it was just because we were tacking against the wind and thus crossing many more potential paths. But before long it was finished, so we docked, cleaned up the boat and came back the way we had come.

It was a great way to spend a weekend but there is definitely some post-sailing suffering. Despite vigorous application of sunscreen, I have a few nasty burned spots (knees, tops of feet), and poor Mrs. Dunce has discovered that she has a very nasty sun allergy. We're both on the mend, though, and ready to do it again.

travel

Tuesday, June 21, 2005 1:31:10 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Thursday, June 16, 2005

Libel and defamation

Libel laws in the UK can be quite strict, so it's a good idea to know the dos and don'ts of libel and defamation. The BBC site offers a nice guide to avoiding libel and defamation. Under English law (unlike many other places) the burden of proof is mine. Therefore, when I write

"I asked my brother 'Have you stopped playing with yourself?' and he said 'no'!! HAHAHAHA he plays with himself."

I may be in a lot of trouble trouble (assuming the defamed individual pursues a libel case) as I may have some difficulty proving that the exchange actually happened. A common defense is to argue that the statement is true, but I think I would run into trouble providing evidence (either for the veracity of the quote, or for the accusation). Another defense is fair comment: the writer is stating an opinion. I could argue that my statement "he plays with himself" is an expression of my opinion rather than being presented as fact. But I'm pretty sure I won't get far with that claim either, as it has no indication of being an opinion. Why, oh why didn't I write "HAHAHAHA, I think that means he plays with himself" or something similarly qualified? I can't rely in privilege either as this statement did not come from my testimony in court (or Parliament) (and now it's too late to try to get into court or Parliament in order to have the above statement somehow read into the public record under privilege (I'm not really sure how the term "privilege" should be used here. Nay-sayers can start there perhaps). Maybe I could argue that the above statement is not damaging to the reputation of the individual in question. Hmmmmm, doesn't seem very likely either: it could potentially expose him (no pun intended) to ridicule, cause him to be shunned, discredited and "generally lowered in the eyes of right thinking members of society" (quote from BBC site linked above).

Fortunately in order for something to be considered libelous (or libellous) it needs to be published. And that could only happen if I pressed the "Post to Weblog" button.

Oops.

Maybe we can settle out of court?

Thursday, June 16, 2005 2:51:01 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Beer tasting

Well that didn't take long at all. In a remarkable parallel to the previous day we were back in the Lord John Russell and again ordering pints of Budvar all around. The big difference is that this time it was the elusive Budvar Dark Lager (winner of last years Great British Beer Festival "Imported Beer of the Festival" award). According to the last line of this article in the Publican, we're lucky enough to be in a test area. As for the much-awaited beer itself, it was tasty and much lighter than I expected. Good but not great in my opinion. As Mrs. Dunce is a bigger fan of dark beers (and more adept at verbal descriptions of sensory experience), and because I agree with her assessment, I'll just quote her here:
The Budvar Dark was good though not the taste thrill I hoped it would be. A nice quality dark beer with earthy notes but no lingering finish. Dragon Stout is still my choice for this class of beer. But then it would be, it has a much higher alcohol content.

There is a great deal of controversy concerning the Budvar (Budweiser) brand and the American product of the same name made by Anheuser-Busch (some articles about the battle around the world can be found here, here, here, here and here among many many others). Here is the official position of Budvar on the issue. At least in these parts it seems like Budvar is gaining an advantage; when it comes to matters of drink, I'll always side with the drinkable one if there's a choice. Another Budvar for me, thanks.

consume

Wednesday, June 15, 2005 10:58:26 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Asakusa

Once again I had a restaurant experience worth writing about, at Asakusa Japanese Restaurant, a place that would surely be in my list of top London restaurants (if I had such a list). After a quick drink at a pub near work¹ we jumped on the bus toward Mornington Crescent. Asakusa's reviews (1, 2) all seem to reflect its shabby (or worse) decor ("cramped", "scruffy", "dilapidated surroundings", "looked like it should have been condemned") but enthusiastically recommend the food (it's even on The Economist's list of London's "best bohemian joints"). It's an izakaya-style restaurant with a wide range on the menu (and posted on the walls, but only in Japanese). After the Budvar disappointment we quickly ordered a round of dark lager (Asahi Dark) which in my opinion is far tastier than the standard range of lagers. I have absolutely no chance of remembering everything we ate, but some of the highlights were hijiki, natto, salt mackerel (still my favorite dish of all the ones I've tried there), curry potato korroke (a close second), some very nicely done shrimp tempura. I also had a really tasty serving of sake (served cold in a masu (wooden box) and accompanied by a pinch of salt). We didn't even venture onto the sushi/sashimi menu this time (although we've had excellent sushi/sashimi there on previous visits). The bill came to about £18 each (including 10% service charge). I can't complain.... except that now all I want is to go back again, the sooner the better.

¹Pints of Budvar all around, thanks. Sadly it was only after our drinks had been served that Mrs. Dunce discovered that the pub had the extremely well-regarded and incredibly unavailable Budvar Dark Lager on tap. As we had to make our reservation time, we didn't manage to get a taste of the Dark (so we'll have to get back there in the very near future).

consume

Tuesday, June 14, 2005 10:26:58 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Monday, June 13, 2005

Eatin' vittles

Some dispute has arisen concerning my use of the term "vittles" in my previous entry, and a concerned writer suggested that the term should be spelled "victuals" rather than "vittles". It's an interesting question, especially because of the complicated etymological path. There is no doubt that it comes from the Latin victualia ("provisions") but its route from there is interesting. Etymology Online suggests it was spelled "vitaylle" (singular form, c1303) and came by way of Old French vitaille (which in turn came from the Latin origin). The Oxford English dictionary gives a similar story (The variant OF. and mod.F. form victuaille has been assimilated to the [Latin] original, and a similar change in spelling has been made in English, while the pronunciation still represents the forms vittel, vittle.) But the EO entry is far more specific: Spelling altered 1523 to conform with [Latin], but pronunciation remains "vittles." This seems like an incredibly (unbelievably?) precise date. What happened in 1523 to cause this change? The papacy of Clement VII perhaps? Or is the precise dating a little too precise in this case? Anyway, the spelling of this word has gone through quite a few variants; we're lucky to have only two.

OED examples include
1303 vytayle
13?? vitaile
1375 vittale
1375 witale
c1385 vitayle
1399 vetaile
1400 vitell
1417 vitaill
1472 wetyl
1480 wittall
1482 vettell
1487 Vetale
1494 wyttell
1500 vetayll
1500 wetale
1523 victuayle
1538 vytel
1548 vitail
1559 victuall
1573 vittle
1599 vittell
1627 Victual
1847 fittle (dial.)

Plural uses have been there from the beginning (early 1300s, anyway), and it's quite unclear to me when the singular went out of use (in fact, dictionary searches suggest that it hasn't). So feel free to use any of the above spellings; if anyone complains, tell them you're not so keen on following fads.

EDIT: It's also necessary for me to acknowledge that not everyone agrees with me. Spelling.org is one such case: Most teachers have no idea that the word victuals is only correct spelling of "vittles"... [sic].

Sometimes the jokes write themselves.

language

Monday, June 13, 2005 11:14:05 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Friday, June 10, 2005

Not so obligatory plurals

And with that it's another linguistic issue, raised on the pages of Sarmoung's secret diary. For those readers afraid to click the preceding link, he uses the phrase "SPECTACLE WRANGLING" to refer to individuals "trying to grab [his] glasses for comic routines" and subsequently wondered

I wasn't sure whether since the noun is "spectacles" it might not need to remain so. Trouser Wrangling? The plural just "sounded" wrong. But then "Glass Wrangling" doesn't sound too good either, although that's maybe for reasons of clarity. As for "Binocular Wrangling"...Hmm. Fortunately I don't have to deal with this sort of thing on an in-depth daily basis.

On the other hand, I do. Well, maybe I don't have to but perhaps I choose to. ... I think "spectacle wrangling" is the correct use. Look in analogy to the terminology one might use for wrangling other entities which are expressed in clear singular or plural forms, e.g. "cat wrangling" (not "cats wrangling", even if you're after a whole host of them). My intuition is that in this sort of form, "wrangling" is a noun and the terms like "spectacle", "trouser", "cat" are behaving more like adjectives to reflect a sort of habitual behavior. "Spectacle wrangling" is the act of wrangling spectacles (not "spectacle"), and you (surely!) wouldn't say "I had my spectacle wrangled". The same sort of thing seems to happen for other actions too ("spectacle breaking", "trouser peeling", "cat spotting"). In a strange sort of way the plural marker is removed when the spectacles (trousers, cats) are being acted upon and represented in a compound form, even in cases in which the singular form is never in common use.

The wikipedia entry for English plural has a brief discussion of these words (under the heading "Defective nouns"), using the technical term pluralia tantum to refer to those words for which a singular form does not exist (also including annals, billiards, measles, nuptials, thanks, tidings, vittles). An interesting distinction is between those which behave (syntactically) as a plural, vs. those which behave as singular:
My spectacles are filthy.
Billiards is a pursuit of vile men.

Although I don't have the time to go into a full investigation of the cause of this behavior (ie, why do even pluralia tantum words become singular in constructions of this sort), here's an interesting article dealing with related issues:
Why children sometimes say "mice-eater" (PDF)
and in A Linguistic Introduction to English Words (ch 5, PDF) Heidi Harley writes Note that the roots, pant-, scissor- or tong-, can occur without the plural suffix when part of a compound: pantleg, scissor factory, tong holder. This shows that the -s suffix on these words really is the regular plural marker. Within compounds, singular or plural is simply not relevant. We say lawn-mower, not *lawns-mower, even though any given lawn-mower could easily be intended to mow multiple lawns. So the existence of pantleg shows that the root pant- does exist independently of the suffix -s. The only strange thing in these cases is that the plural marking is required even when the meaning is singular.

Why does this happen? Who knows.

language

Friday, June 10, 2005 11:56:34 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Tip of tongue yet again

But this time it was Mrs. Dunce's turn. It was last Friday, and we'd just staggered our way out of the auditorium after a Twisted Folk show¹ and ran into a familiar face. Well, familiar to Mrs. Dunce anyway: apparently he was one of the few friendly individuals at DeathCorp (Mrs. Dunce's former employer which did a Hindenburg just before Christmas 2003). Some light conversation ensued (what a great gig, time has flown by, many former DeathCorp employees are now in similar posts at DeathCorp's former client MegaDeathTech), and then we parted ways. But all was clearly not well with Mrs. Dunce who had a pained expression on her face (Perhaps it could have been the lake fish from the African Kitchen Gallery, but I think not). She couldn't remember the bloke's name, no matter what sort of mental convolutions she went through. But definitely there was some sort of partial information which wasn't quite right, she thought it might be something like "Martin", but not quite. A relatively uncommon name, but not much else was coming to mind. Although I was not experiencing the TOT myself, it was obviously a painful one as it continued through the evening (our Tube ride was full of grimaces [I mean, Mrs. Dunce was making pained faces, not that the carriage was occupied by purple advertising characters]), and it seemed quite likely that rather than going to bed at the late hour, we were soon to be poring through boxes of papers to find a DeathCorp employee list. But somehow that didn't happen, and I assumed it had passed from mind or been peacefully resolved without incident. But suddenly today there was an email, only four days later the matter was resolved.

Mrs Dunce wrote, This morning on the tube it came to me. I was near with thinking that the guy at M Ward’s name was Martin, his name is ____ Martin.

And just like that his name is back, and I doubt she'll forget it for a long time. I blame the surname which can also be used as a forename (and perhaps some repression of Mrs. Dunce's horrific DeathCorp experiences). And as usual, the partial information available in the tip-of-the-tongue state proved to be right on, just in the wrong place.

Some names have been changed because I don't want former DeathCorp employees to descend upon my blog with abusive comments, nor for the individual in question to learn that Mrs. Dunce didn't remember his name.

¹The gig was fantastic, entirely thanks to M Ward who is just an incredible musician. The first act, Currituck Co. were interesting but a little too noodly at times (I'll see them again soon so I may change my mind), and Vetiver put me off. Mainly because of Devendra Banhart who just acted like a spoiled brat on stage (which is a shame because I really enjoy the music I've heard from him).

language | music

Wednesday, June 08, 2005 12:18:54 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Flapping Kirk

There's a new TV advert gracing our airwaves, featuring the one and only William Shatner. He's advertising Kellogg's All-Bran Flakes "Yoghurty" which appear to be simply a less-healthy version of Bran Flakes (including some yog(h)urt-covered ones). The advert seems to capitalize upon Shatner's perceived incompetence and general out-of-touch-ness, presenting a series of clips in which he fluffs his lines, stutters and stammers, and generally appears confused by the whole process (Great acting, I'm sure). I must take offense, however, with the punch line (as it were) in which Shatner is instructed to call the product "yoghurty" by an off-camera voice. He mispronounces it (saying it more like "yogurdy") and is corrected by the same voice, but mispronounces it again, showing a look of complete befuddlement. Despite my initial enthusiasm for anything ridiculing Mr. Shatner himself (although what could do more than Mr. Shatner's own work?) I have to lodge my disapproval. After all, the particular element which is being ridiculed in the "yoghurty"/"yogurdy" exchange features prominently in my own dialect of English as well (I pronounce "printer" more like "prinner"; "computer" more like "compuder", "ladder" and "latter" as near homonyms, etc.). Technically speaking this is an intervocalic flap: the conversion of /t/ (and some instances of /d/) into /ɾ/ (IPA). As a flapper myself, I am deeply offended by the notion that we flappers are speaking incorrectly. Especially when it's being used to sell breakfast cereal.

consume | language

Tuesday, June 07, 2005 3:22:41 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Monday, June 06, 2005

Lady marmalade

Where did marmalade come from? I found myself in the midst of a pitched battle between two camps, both arguing with equal vigor about the origin of the term "marmalade". Here are the two positions as near as I can reconstruct them (excising some, but not all, of the irrelevant and/or argumentative and/or simply made-up supporting statements; I should also note that not all parties to the discussion took definitive positions in this debate, and some even refused to take a stand, suggesting instead that simple research would reveal the truth):

Portuguese position: "Marmalade" is originally a Portuguese concept, and is derived from the Portuguese fruit "marmelo" ("a tasteless fruit that's kind of like a pear"). What the English call "marmalade" is not marmalade at all but is a gross and offensive misuse of the term.

English position: The Portuguese argument is ridiculous and simplistic, as marmalade is made with oranges (or other fruits like oranges), not some sort of pear, and contains the rind of such fruits. The relation between the word "marmelo" and "marmalade" is just a coincidence upon which the Portuguese have opportunistically seized (c.f. "marshmallow" which is surely not related in meaning, but by Jove it sure does sound a lot like "marmelo"). The origin of the term "marmalade" is probably French (c.f. "remoulade") or further back in a Latinate direction, "mar-" probably is in reference to the sea (Lat "mare") by which the citrus fruits would have arrived in the British Isles.

Well, the world of online information seems to have conspired against the well-reasoned arguments of the English camp. Etymology Online gives a very pro-Portuguese story, but as EO's ultimate source is the Oxford English Dictionary (I'd link, but sorry, it's subscription only), so let's go there. According to OED, Portuguese marmelada (quince marmalade, first attested 1521) comes from marmelo (quince) + -ada (OED: "the product of an action, and by extension that of any process or raw material"). Portuguese marmelo comes from post-classical Latin malomellum (quince or sweet apple), which in turn has ancient Greek origins too complicated to report here (OK, mainly just that I didn't want to deal with encoding of Greek characters!). OED also documents the spread of the term: Close medieval trading relations between England and Portugal may account for the very early borrowing of the Portuguese word in English: cf. Middle French marmeline (1541), Spanish mermelada (1570), Italian marmellata (1579), Middle French mermelade (1573), French marmelade (1602), marmelat (1605), Swedish marmelad (1578), post-classical Latin marmelatum (1588, in a French text), German Marmelade (c1600), Dutch marmelade (1599)

A further entry in the OED documents the historical change in English, and ends with a shocking revelation which will, I am sure, devastate supporters of the Portuguese argument...

Originally, a preserve consisting of a sweet, solid, quince jelly resembling chare de quince ... but with the spices replaced by flavourings of rosewater and musk or ambergris, and cut into squares for eating;
[In the 17th century] a thick, apple-based jelly containing shredded citrus peel (obsolete). Subsequently: a conserve made by boiling fruits (now usually oranges and other citrus fruits) in water to release the pectin around the seeds, then reboiling the liquid and fruit with sugar to form a consistent mass, typically containing embedded shreds of rind. Also: a preparation of similar consistency made with other ingredients, such as a sweet preserve of diced ginger in a jelly set with apple pectin, or a relish made by cooking vegetables with sugar and vinegar. Often with the name of the fruit or other dominant ingredient prefixed, as apricot, ginger, lemon, onion, orange, quince marmalade. When none is specified, orange marmalade is now usually meant.

So far, so good, but the OED continues... Since 1981, European Community regulations have restricted commercial use of the term to preserves made with citrus fruit.

Therefore, although the origin of the term may be unquestionably Portuguese, it is no longer legal for Portuguese manufacturers of the traditional product to call it "marmalade" (EC Council Directive 2001/113/EC of 20 December 2001 relating to fruit jams, jellies and marmalades and sweetened chestnut purée intended for human consumption, which I should mention has caused at least a little bit of public outcry), thus providing some solace to the English side -- even though the etymological arguments favor the Portuguese origin, sellers of this product could be prosecuted while sellers of the English sort of marmalade can walk the streets with impunity. I have been informed by a reliable source that quince jam is in fact available in the British Isles (and is not called "marmalade"), although it may not be available in every supermarket (perhaps one's best hope is the Women's Institute).

EDITED POST: Gosh, it's hard to spell "marmalade" correctly, especially since it looks like the Portuguese and many others spell it wrong (marmelade) (in addition to trying to call non-marmalade products "marmalade" or "marmelade").

language

Monday, June 06, 2005 11:25:20 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Friday, June 03, 2005

Happy slapping

This should come as no surprise to anyone in the UK who has been even slightly exposed to the media, but there apparently exists a craze among THE CRIMINALLY DERANGED YOUTH OF TODAY known as "happy slapping". It's all over the media: in short, gangs of teens will approach an unsuspecting bystander and attack them without warning. The attack is filmed on a camera phone and shared via modern telegraph technology. Today on my way to work I was witness to the seamy underworld of the happy slapper, and I thought I'd share my experience.

I boarded the bus and found a seat in the upper deck, and noticed that the rear area was clogged with feral teenagers (and/or pre-teenagers), about eight in number. They were behaving in a most unseemly fashion which truly demonstrates the failure of society to control these menaces: mostly clad in hooded sweatshirts (serving to conceal their identities and allowing them to gleefully cavort in the mob mentality) or replica football tops (glorifying acts of physical violence disguised as competitive spirit), demonstrating the most deplorable posture (slouching, sitting sideways in their seats; one of them even had his filthy shoes on the surface of his seat!), and speaking loudly using the most offensive sort of gutter slang imaginable, laden not only with filth and ungrammaticality, but also with deviations from received pronunciation so gross I cannot possibly reproduce them here. Worse yet, they appeared to have no particular destination but simply appeared to be riding the bus for idle purposes. There were no members of the constabulary in sight (else these depraved urchins would have doubtless be grasped by ears and scruffs and propelled in the direction of a suitable community service project or old people's home where their raw energy would be directed in positive means) so I (along with my fellow passengers I am sure) clenched my fists, stared at a newspaper and hoped they would disembark post-haste.

Imagine my displeasure when I heard not the sounds of disembarkation, but a loud smack followed by cries of pain. I looked toward the commotion and saw to my dismay that the youngest of them was pointing a camera-'phone towards the victim, a youth of approximately the same age, who had apparently been victimized by that very same assault known as the "happy slap". As I have become rather acclimated to English life, my response was to return to my newspaper and hope I would not be next (whilst mentally organizing the content of my letter to the editor of the Daily Mail). Indeed, after a brief pause there was more commotion and more sounds of violence; I turned and saw that another young man had been similarly assaulted, again captured on film (or whatever passes for film in this decadent age). After another pause, another assault, and then another. But these acts were beginning to follow a curious pattern -- they seemed to be limited to the social circle of youths, and each slouching menace was being assaulted in turn by his fellows!

I can only conclude that I have seen something even more depraved and disgusting than the act of "happy slapping" itself: a mobile school of urban assault in which these despicable dregs of society undergo training to become even more effective at assaulting members of the public. Society has sunk so far that the only answer is the pillory.

Friday, June 03, 2005 11:40:45 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Languages and directions

My closest living relative (or less-ambiguously, the relative who lives closest to me) has been learning Dutch (ok, maybe Flemish); his most recent post (EDIT: whoops, it was only a temporary link) about giving & understanding directions in another language (I think along the lines of the ambiguity of English "right" in "turn right" vs. "right there) reminded me of my own experience with directions in Dutch.

I was living in Nijmegen at the time (OK, I was living in Wijchen but nobody's heard of Wijchen) and was out for the evening with some Dutch guys. We were approached by a couple of Germans who asked directions to a hole-in-the-wall drinking establishment (one of the few places in town I was fairly confident I knew how to find). One of the Dutch guys gave the directions, and although I didn't hear exactly what he said, I was surprised how quick and simple they were (mine would have involved five or six turns, with a landmark at each turn, and doubtless would have failed in directing them to their destination), and once the Germans had set off, I asked whether there is a quicker way I wasn't aware of. As it turns out, no. "I just said 'immer geradeaus' [German: 'keep going straight'] and pointed to the river. Maybe they'll fall in and drown".

For some reason, I can never avoid being asked directions, no matter where I am (well, except Japan), and this was true of the Netherlands the moment I fell off the turnip truck, errrr, got off the plane. Fortunately once I found myself in Nijmegen/Wijchen it was pretty easy to give directions (just about everything is correctly answered by pointing down the main road toward the center of town and saying "immer geradeaus" [errr, I mean "recht door", or maybe "rechtstreeks". Or is it "rechts"?], or maybe I just pointed straight, grunted a few times and gestured "just keep going until you fall into the river and drown"). Strangely enough, that's also how you get to the British Museum from just outside my office...

language | travel

Wednesday, June 01, 2005 11:50:03 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)

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Tuesday, May 31, 2005