Welcome to Snarkfest

Welcome to my snarky corner of the web. Join me as I discuss everything from wine to chocolate. There may be a few other topics mixed in there too. I talk a bunch about my amazing offspring, 19 and 17. I sometimes go on and on about my secret crush on the amazing Mike Rowe. I talk about things that irritate me or things that make me happy. Sometimes I just talk to hear myself talk. Feedback is always appreciated but please make sure it's respectable. No nudity or profanity. I'm the only one allowed to be profane. But any and all snark is welcome and appreciated!

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Water Ice and Gravy....

Mmmm that sounds tasty, doesn't it? I'm guessing that unless you're from Philly or South Jersey you're looking at this blog post and wondering what the hell that crazy Snarkfest chick is talking about. And that's exactly how some of my closest friends look at me (all the time). 

Last weekend I met up with a good friend in the grocery store while I was buying a frozen dessert. We went back to my house (where her son was hanging out with my 17) and as I was unpacking said frozen dessert I said (in my most hospitable way) "would you guys like some water ice?"

Water ice. Not ice water. Never ice water.
Both mother and son looked at me 'that way' and slowly cocked their heads to the side like confused puppies. Mom said "I'll have some ice with water if that's what you're talking about" to which I replied "ok but do you want some water ice too?"

I had completely baffled them both. You see, I'm from Philly. And in Philly, the term 'water ice' actually means 'Italian ice' (which is stupid and a little racist if you ask me. Why do Italians get the credit for this amazing frozen deliciousness? Anyway I digress).  By water ice, they thought I meant a glass of ice water. What I actually meant was dessert. I ended up serving one ice water and one water ice. Go figure.

Later that weekend I had the same exchange with 19's boyfriend who thought I had completely lost the plot. It was only after I pulled out the Urban Dictionary that he REALLY found my argument invalid.  It was only after I hit up The Google that he relented and admitted that (maybe, possibly) I wasn't crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm from Philly. There's a difference. 

Another bone of contention comes between my husband and me. While he did have my back about water ice (because we lived for a long time in South Jersey and he ate more than his fair share of water ice), he can't wrap his brain around what I call the stuff you put over spaghetti. In Philly we call it 'gravy'.  Apparently everywhere else that sane people live, they call it 'sauce'. Bah. Whatever. To we who eat spaghetti in Philly it's gravy and when I make a pot of spaghetti, I always make a big pot of "spaghetti gravy" and he always mocks me for it. (Make no mistake, he'll eat the hell out of it).

I can't help what I know. I know gravy and that's what I grew up calling it. I know water ice. I know hoagies (not sliders, not grinders and while I did get used to calling them subs because that's the South Jersey term for them, they'll always be hoagies to me). I know Jimmies (not sprinkles, that's just stupid).  I know MAC machines. I mentioned to 17 that I had to go hit MAC the other day and she gave me that very same "I have no idea what you're talking about" look that I get a lot. 

Jimmies. Always Jimmies. Never sprinkles.
I know Mummers. Mummers, so I've learned, aren't the same everywhere. In Philly they are New Year's Day costumed revelers. In other places, they are not. Don't ask me what they ARE in other places because I don't care enough to find out.

Mummers in the Mummers Day Parade (also known as New Year's Day)
I know scrapple. Yeah, I'm well aware what's in scrapple. It's the stuff that is just too disgusting to put in hot dogs, but you can bet your ass I'd beat up a nun for a plate of scrapple. No lie. 

So I know what I know because I was raised to know these things. Just because I call things something different than you do, it doesn't make me wrong. It doesn't make you wrong either. That's the beauty of who we are. We are all different and that's completely fine. It would be pretty boring if we all called everything the same thing. If we did that, life would be mundane and I would not have material to mock others (you know, those sauce eating Italian ice connoisseurs). 

What are some things that are differently named from where you live?

5 comments:

  1. when we moved to West Virginia from Detroit, it was like learning a new language. Pop vs. soda was just the beginning. Some people called the paper bag you get your stuff in at the grocery store a poke (what?). A skunk is a pole-cat. Have you ever heard of a whistle pig? That's a groundhog to normal people. Lunch is dinner and dinner is supper. I can't even remember all the weird stuff because now it seems normal.

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    1. For me making the move from NJ to WV, soda stayed the same but did you know that here they put an R in the word WASH? Yes! You WARSH your clothes here in WV. It's crazy. Never heard of a poke as a bag but I have heard of a pole cat but I thought it was an actual animal on its own, not another name for skunk. I'm always getting educated!!

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    2. A pole cat is actually a European ferret. We had that conversation at my work last week. Locally, in WV, skunks are referred to as pole cats by "country folk." I've been accused of being snooty for calling supper dinner. Go figure!

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    3. Snooty!!?? No way. If you're snooty I'm snooty!

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  2. We call little moths "millers." Well, it's a Colorado thing. Also, a sweatshirt is a sweater. This isn't regional, but I started calling yogurt "yogrit" and now I can't stop. How's that for gravy?

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