As each new year begins, a sea of poorly planned and half-hearted resolutions are made across the country. Gyms that have been nearly vacant for the last few months are instantly booming with lines for new and renewed memberships. Refrigerators are emptied of the soda, chocolate, and ice cream that reside there and are restocked with soy milk, grapes, and cottage cheese. All this in hopes that
this year will be different from the last.
But we all know the perils of quick decision-making. Without a calculated and earnest commitment to
bonafide change, an inevitable relapse results in the resolution-making process becoming as cyclical as the earth's rotation around the sun.
To that end, I have decided for myself that 2008 will be my year to educate myself more fully. It has been nearly two years since I've graduated from college and I can't seem to understand why I don't know everything in life yet (sic). Similarly, I can't get that catchy NBC jingle for "The More You Know" out of my head so I figure I'll just play along.
In order to more mightily utilize this blog as well as to stretch my literary muscle, I propose to examine a word a week that focuses upon the etymology, history, and common usages of food-related words. I think this will help me help other people appreciate the beauty with which I'm constantly surrounded working at
UpStairs.
So, this week's entry is comes the book I'm currently reading (sweetly and thoughtfully given to me by Deborah Hughes this holiday season). The author is Phoebe
Damrosch and the title of her book is
Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter. It affectionately and unabashedly details her experience as an opening waitperson at Thomas Keller's now landmark New York eatery, Per Se. Though her curriculum vitae prior to working at the restaurant would have made one wonder how she ever became involved with such a heralded culinary establishment, it is her passion for food and service that make it believable and ring true.
In one of opening chapters of the book, "Mosquitoes on Toast,"
Damrosch describes the etymology behind the word
canapé: "The word can be traced by an alternate route to the Greek
konops, meaning 'mosquito.' Having yet discovered the joys of DDT, the Greeks hung netting called
konopion around their beds and couches to protect
themselves from the
konops, a technique that
wsa later adopted by the Romans. They called the curtains
conopeum, which became the Latin
canopeum, the Middle English
canope, and eventually 'canopy.' How the French came to use
canapé to refer to a couch instead of a curtain is beyond the limits of my
steepability, but we have stolen the word for use in Modern English and retained its Middle English meaning.'
Oh, the French! How they do love to mess with our heads.
These little tidbits are, for me, another layer of the education on all things edible I resolve to improve upon this coming year. Here's to a great new year filled with fun conversation and delectable meals with friends. Cheers!