Oh man, this reminds me of a recent knock-down-drag-out fight on this rum nerd Facebook groups I'm in, where a bunch of fragile rum nerds (which all presented as men? huh) got all indignant about non-alcoholic spirits. They were all butthurt about using the term "spirits" which "inherently means something alcoholic." There was a very clear tinge of sober-shaming in this (which, I think, applies to plant-based products as well), but it also seemed analogous to naming of products for people with dietary restrictions or food allergies. Like, I think using the name "pasta" for gluten-free pasta (rather than "gluten-free starchy sticks" or whatever) actually is inherently valuable in that it helps people feel more "normal." You can have celiac but still eat pasta, cool! And with spirits, I think there can be a similar value to sober people - you can not drink alcohol, but still have a nice gin and tonic, cool!
I did make a comment to this effect on that Facebook post and someone responded, "I don't know anything about food allergies, but you're still wrong!"
When you said "omnivore fragility," I felt a little attacked. ;) I have definitely huffed and complained, "but WHY did they have to call it bacon??" We've also had this vegan Filipino food convo in our household. More food linguistic essays, please. More!
A personal anecdote with perhaps a bit of relevance: I was recently embarrassed upon learning (far too late) that cauliflower is a variety of cabbage! Having grown up in an extremely grocery store-centric suburban community, and without a robust food education, I finally put two and two together while knee-deep in the cabbage patch for the first time with a dull harvesting knife. But it's something that the French intrinsically know by way of their own language system, since the word "cabbage" is "chou," and "cauliflower" is simply "chou fleur." I'm interested in similar structures (or lack thereof) in language and beyond, and what their roles are in nurturing community values—especially as it pertains to caring about the things we put on our plates.
I'll be sinking my teeth into this de Saussure text in coming days, thank you for the reference. A delightful read as always.
Oh man, this reminds me of a recent knock-down-drag-out fight on this rum nerd Facebook groups I'm in, where a bunch of fragile rum nerds (which all presented as men? huh) got all indignant about non-alcoholic spirits. They were all butthurt about using the term "spirits" which "inherently means something alcoholic." There was a very clear tinge of sober-shaming in this (which, I think, applies to plant-based products as well), but it also seemed analogous to naming of products for people with dietary restrictions or food allergies. Like, I think using the name "pasta" for gluten-free pasta (rather than "gluten-free starchy sticks" or whatever) actually is inherently valuable in that it helps people feel more "normal." You can have celiac but still eat pasta, cool! And with spirits, I think there can be a similar value to sober people - you can not drink alcohol, but still have a nice gin and tonic, cool!
I did make a comment to this effect on that Facebook post and someone responded, "I don't know anything about food allergies, but you're still wrong!"
Congrats on your North American Guild of Beer Writers award!
This was so good!
this is one of my favorite things you've written. ❤️
When you said "omnivore fragility," I felt a little attacked. ;) I have definitely huffed and complained, "but WHY did they have to call it bacon??" We've also had this vegan Filipino food convo in our household. More food linguistic essays, please. More!
A personal anecdote with perhaps a bit of relevance: I was recently embarrassed upon learning (far too late) that cauliflower is a variety of cabbage! Having grown up in an extremely grocery store-centric suburban community, and without a robust food education, I finally put two and two together while knee-deep in the cabbage patch for the first time with a dull harvesting knife. But it's something that the French intrinsically know by way of their own language system, since the word "cabbage" is "chou," and "cauliflower" is simply "chou fleur." I'm interested in similar structures (or lack thereof) in language and beyond, and what their roles are in nurturing community values—especially as it pertains to caring about the things we put on our plates.
I'll be sinking my teeth into this de Saussure text in coming days, thank you for the reference. A delightful read as always.