When an English-speaking person migrates across the Atlantic, he (or she) discovers that he (or she) [don\u2019t labour the point\u2026] has to re-learn the language.<\/p>\n
Mrs. H discovered this only a few weeks after we moved to Canada. She was volunteering in our daughter\u2019s grade two class and asked a child for a rubber. Yes, the kids\u2014the grade two kids\u2014picked up on this, and I\u2019m pretty sure that Mrs H. has called it an eraser ever since.<\/p>\n
Both sides of the language divide are totally convinced that their vocabulary is the correct one, and they\u2019re both right: just as long as you don\u2019t set foot in the other camp or speak to one of its inhabitants. And while the trans-Atlantic confusion with the word \u201cchip\u201d is not as potentially\u00a0embarrassing as it is for \u201crubber\u201d or fatal as it is for \u201cpavement\u201d, it continues to stir up old loyalties in discussions.<\/p>\n
Better people than me have attempted to trace the origins of these conflicting terms. Michael Quinion\u2019s World Wide Words<\/em> website (sadly no longer being added to) provides a reasonably comprehensive account<\/a>, and even Wikipedia makes a brave attempt. (here <\/a>and here<\/a>) But everything I\u2019ve read is dry (much like oven chips\/fries) and unengaging. That needed to be fixed, so here, folks, is my attempt at an entertaining explanation of the debate.<\/p>\n (There\u2019s a possibility that I might show my prejudice regarding Americans\u2019 version of\u2026 everything. I might even denigrate the British air of superiority in\u2026 everything, but as John Cleese observed, \u201cAll humour is critical. If you start to say we mustn’t criticize or offend them, then humour is gone.\u201d)<\/p>\n The earliest mention of \u201cFrench\u201d and \u201cpotatoes\u201d in the same phrase that I found is a story about Thomas Jefferson having had \u201cpotatoes served in the French manner\u201d at the White House in 1802. Michael Quinion\u2019s account downplays that story somewhat though, and, in my opinion, for good reason. If Americans are to be believed, pretty much everything originates from Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, or George Washington, whereas Brits know full well that pretty much everything originated from Isaac Newton, William Shakespeare or Winston Churchill.<\/p>\n Back in the nineteenth century, potatoes were just potatoes. (Actually, for many Irish folk, they were the difference between eating and starving, but I digress already.) According to Mrs. Beeton\u2019s Book of Household Management<\/em> (published in 1860), boiling, baking and steaming were the normal ways of cooking potatoes. Mind you, we are talking about English cooking\u2014not the most imaginative cuisine in the world.<\/p>\n The same book includes instructions for a German method and a French fashion of cooking potatoes. No mention of \u201cchips\u201d of any kind though\u2014not even buffalo or cow. The French recipe is for \u201cFried Potatoes (French Fashion)\u201d, but what is described is closer to crisps\/chips than chips\/fries.<\/p>\n An 1856 cookery book (Cookery for Maids of All Work<\/em> by Eliza Warren) uses the term \u201cFrench fried potatoes\u201d, but also appears to be describing crisps\/chips rather than chips\/fries.<\/p>\n In 1859, Charles Dickens referred to \u201cchips of potatoes\u201d in A Tale of Two Cities<\/em>\u2014although he doesn\u2019t describe the chips beyond that. (No jokes about a \u201cchip off the old block\u201d in reference to the story\u2019s ending, please.)<\/p>\n An 1882 American recipe for \u201cFrench fried potatoes\u201d describes deep-frying chunks of potato. Some might call these chunks \u201cwedges\u201d today.<\/p>\n A 1940s revision of Mrs. Beeton\u2019s<\/em> refers to \u201cPotatoes, Fried. (pommes de terre frites)\u201d, but is essentially the same recipe for crisps\/chips as in the 1860 version. However, there\u2019s a reference to this recipe from another page, under the heading \u201cPotato Chips (Pommes de terre frites \u00e0 l\u2019Anglaise)\u201d. So if you were a dedicated follower of foodie fashion \u00e0 la Mrs. Beeton, you\u2019d be cooking crisps\/chips and calling them \u201cPotato Chips<\/em>\u201d.<\/p>\n In the UK!<\/p>\n However, if you\u2019d bought a \u201cNew World\u201d cooker in the UK in 1935, you might have also got a companion recipe book, in which \u201cChip Potatoes\u201d are described\u2014quarter-inch-thick slices of potato\u2014obviously not crisps\/chips.<\/p>\n Clearly, there was turmoil in the terminology around this time, and the 1944 Shorter Oxford Dictionary<\/em> wisely steered clear, presumably waiting for the dust to settle: there\u2019s no mention of potatoes in the definitions of \u201cchip\u201d. The nearest is \u201canything worthless, without flavour, innutritious, or dried up.\u201d I guess that\u2019s why salt, vinegar, ketchup, poutine and gravy are all popular additions to chips\/fries.<\/p>\n Likewise, there\u2019 s no mention of potatoes in the definition of \u201ccrisp\u201d or \u201cFrench\u201d. It does mention potato chips under \u201cpotato\u201d though\u2014\u201cpotatoes sliced and fried crisp.\u201d<\/p>\n So far, it seems like those wascally \u2018mericans got it right!<\/p>\n By 1961, the Pocket Oxford Dictionary<\/em> was defining chip as \u201cpotatoes cut small and fried (fish & chips)\u201d. But then, from personal memory, chips\/fries were \u201cchips\u201d by then. The same dictionary\u2019s only definition for \u201ccrisp\u201d as a noun is as slang for banknotes, yet I clearly remember eating \u201ccrisps\u201d in the early 1960s\u2014the brand with a little blue twisted paper of salt in them.<\/p>\n In many parts of the UK, the Fish and Chip shop is referred to colloquially as \u201cThe Chippy.\u201d However, according to the Canadian Oxford Dictionary, a chippy is \u201ca promiscuous or delinquent young woman\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Note to self; never ever use the phrase \u201cI\u2019m going to the chippy\u201d in western Atlantica. It\u2019s on a par with, \u201cI\u2019ll knock you up in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n Based on what I\u2019ve learned from my research for this piece, I\u2019d say that if potatoes were cut into pieces (these days, we\u2019d call them \u201cwedges\u201d) before deep-frying, then \u201cchips\u201d seems like a good name for them.<\/p>\n \u201cFries\u201d seems to me to be lazy\u2014\u201cFrench Fried Potatoes\u201d got shortened to \u201cFrench Fries\u201d and then to \u201cFries\u201d\u2014convenient, but ambiguous. Then again, there are other examples of laziness creating verbs-as-nouns-with-ambiguity-thrown-in-for-good-measure.<\/p>\n \u201cChip\u201d, for example.<\/p>\n In a reversal of that contraction trend, Brits refer to those ridiculous, thin excuses for chips\/fries as \u201cshoestring fries\u201d\u2014presumably to differentiate them from the more manly \u201cchips\u201d.<\/p>\n So\u2026 accept the different terminology. Eat chips and be merry. Or eat fries and be \u2018merican. There\u2019s no right or wrong. There\u2019s been no subversion or hijacking of the Queen\u2019s English. Western Atlanticans are merely allowing their variety of English to evolve separately from Eastern Atlanticans.<\/p>\n Whatever we call them, we\u2019re pretty sure we have the French to thank for them, although the Belgians might disagree. And to illustrate the point, the world\u2019s only Fries Museum is located in Bruges.<\/p>\n I wonder if the people who give you your entrance ticket ask, \u201cWould you like fries with that?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" When an English-speaking person migrates across the Atlantic, he (or she) discovers that he (or she) [don\u2019t labour the point\u2026] has to re-learn the language. Mrs. H discovered this only a few weeks after we moved to Canada. She was volunteering in our daughter\u2019s grade two class and asked a child for a rubber. Yes, the kids\u2014the grade two kids\u2014picked… Read more »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[181],"tags":[363,361,362,360,667],"class_list":["post-632","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fake","tag-chippy","tag-chips","tag-crisps","tag-fries","tag-words"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/632","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=632"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/632\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1557,"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/632\/revisions\/1557"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=632"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=632"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/reggothard.com\/kelvin\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=632"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}Born in the USA?<\/h1>\n
By the Book(s)<\/h1>\n
Another UK\/US Faux Ami<\/h1>\n
My Take (If You Care)<\/h1>\n