Amazon.com
Martha Barnette's Ladyfingers & Nun's Tummies is like a chocolate soufflé: it's a light and fluffy indulgence, yet too delicate and complex to have been concocted by anyone other than a master. Sections on foods named after body parts, foods associated with religion, foods named by mistake, and others give a whole new meaning to the term food groups. The lollipop, it seems, is named for the smacking pop it makes when pulled away from an eager lolly (a northern-England dialectal term for "tongue"); the Reverend Sylvester Graham, an 1820s Connecticut minister who espoused the use of unrefined wheat flour, was the impetus behind graham crackers; the passion in passion fruit has more to do with the torture and crucifixion of Jesus than with erotic fervor; and Fig Newtons take their name from the Boston suburb of the same name.
For some reason, though, the food meanings that provoke the most visceral reactions are the ones that most fascinate. Would linguine and vermicelli be so popular if it were widely known that they mean "little tongues" and "little worms," respectively? How about avocados, whose name derives from ahuacatl, the Aztec word for testicle? Prik khee noo, those teeny little hot-hot Thai chilies, translate as "rat droppings." And there are many etymologists who believe that pumpernickel comes from the German for "devil fart." They would be well advised to follow that corned beef sandwich with a bit of eggplant, which goes by aubergine in England and France; aubergine derives from the Sanskrit vatingana, or "antifart vegetable."
Booklist
Barnette delights in uncovering the plain facts and sentencing to oblivion the fiction about food words we know and maybe love. In a frothy, tongue-in-cheek manner, she uses detective skills to expose six categories: foods named for what they look like (bow-tie pasta); religion and the supernatural (various meanings of angel food); mistakenly named foods (Jordan almonds); eponyms and toponyms (Cobb salad); foods named for what is done to them or vice versa (pesto); and words derived from food and drink lingo (bagatelle). The surprises don't stop with, for example, her note that seersucker is from the Hindi word for milk and sugar. In effect, we're introduced to a wealth of new and unusual phrases, from geoducks to the pope's-eye, that will enrich, amuse, and edify gastronomes and linguists alike. Barbara Jacobs
