Charcuterie

Googling for something yesterday I came upon an article about making a “charcuterie board.” Having learned French, the word CHARCUTERIE was familiar, having to do with cold meats. So I wanted to learn more about the artistic food creation this writer was describing.

Image by Ivneon at Pixabay

Merriam-Webster defines charcuterie as:
— a delicatessen specializing in dressed meats and meat dishes
— the products sold in such a shop

Lexico defines it as cold cooked meats, and gives the following example of its use in an article:
“One page of the menu is devoted to cheeses (domestic and imported), another to charcuterie, salads, meat and fish, the third to items from the wood-burning oven.”

And I learned from the article that a charcuterie board is a display of meats, cheeses, spreads, bread, olives, dried fruit, and nuts all arranged on a wood plank. Each of the diners at the table gets their own small knife so they can chop off a chuck of cheese and otherwise help themselves to the goodies.

Lambast(e)

We carry the weight of many regrets: we should have called that aging parent more often; visited that relative in hospital; been more patient with our family; really listened to the friend who wanted to pour out her heart in a phone call. We berate ourselves for not caring enough for the homeless, our neighbors, those we work with, for not showing more love to our family members.

Yes, we may at times criticize others for their faults, but it’s usually ourselves that we lambaste the most. Probably because we know ALL our faults — and the total extent of them. We hope and pray friends and acquaintances only see the tips of our icebergs, but we feel the tonnage.

According to Lexico, to LAMBAST or LAMBASTE someone is to attack that person verbally with harsh criticism.

The press has been lambasting President Trump for his statements — or lack of statements, and his action — or lack of action — to the COVID-19 threat.

Merriam-Webster says the word can also be used to describe a violent assault or a whipping. Synonyms of lambaste: pummel, thrash, and pound.

An argument in a bar one night led to a life-threatening lambasting an hour later. The assailant left, still in a rage, and waited for his adversary outside. A few minutes after the other party left the bar he was knocked unconscious, then battered mercilessly. The young man is now in critical condition at General Hospital.

The origins of lambaste are somewhat uncertain, but the word was most likely formed by combining the verbs lam and baste, both of which mean “to beat severely.”
The word LAM, meaning hit hard; strike, is assumed to be Scandinavian origin, related to Norwegian and Danish lamme, meaning ‘paralyse’.

Love

I want to share a poem about LOVELINESS soon; of course the root word here is LOVE, and I got curious about the origins of this word we hear so often.

Everyone has a pretty good idea what the word LOVE means, though some people use it to season their discussions the way diners use pepper as a seasoning on food. I heard about a young woman getting a gentle reproof about this one day:
A young wife was talking to friends some item she liked, and enthusiastically gushed, “I just love it!”
An old grandma was among those listening and responded with some wise words: “Don’t love things. Love something that can love you back.”

And folks really get off course when they call it LOVE when it’s really infatuation or obsession:
A divorced and bitter woman, legally restrained from viciously stalking her ex and his new wife, sought the help of a psychiatrist. Explaining her obsession, she wailed, “But I love him! I can’t live without him.”
The psychiatrist bluntly replied, “That’s not love. That’s being a parasite.”

Love is one of the simplest and oldest in our English language. According to both dictionaries LOVE goes way…way…back — to the old English lufu, akin to the Old German luba. And this comes down, according to Lexico, “from an Indo-European root shared by Sanskrit: lubhyati, or “desires.”

Like ourselves, it has descended from the peoples who spread out after the biblical Tower of Babel episode. Perhaps, as the old grandma suggested, we should handle it more respectfully.

Image by sathyatripodi — Pixabay

Annus Mirabilis

According to Merriam-Webster, this phrase, while not very common, is used by writers and historians to denote any particularly remarkable year.

The British poet John Dryden was one of the first writers to borrow this phrase from Latin and introduce it into the English language. He thought the year 1666 was such a “year of wonders” that he titled his poetic review of 1666 and its events Annus Mirabilis.

Literally it means “wonderful year” in Latin, but the word “wonderful” is open to some interpretation. Considering how our world has been disrupted and how we’re all wondering what’s going to happen in our own lives during the next few months, I believe 2020 will definitely go down in history as an annus mirabilis.

Or will it be described as an annus horribilis, a disastrous or unfortunate year?

Sangfroid

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is SANGFROID and I decided it’s a good word to add here.

When everyone around you seems to be in a panic, can you keep your sangfroid? Are you able to stay cool in the midst of trouble, not get fired up in an argument? In fact, it may be pretty hard to fire them up, as sangfroid literally means cold-blooded.

Are you the SANGUINE type? On the upside, a person who’s sanguine, according to M-W, is inclined to “eager hopefulness : confidently optimistic.” They can be cheerful when others see the gloom and doom of a situation and don’t let little things get them down.

On the downside, sanguine can mean literally bloody or blood-red, or having a nature that’s bloodthirsty or murderous.

I read an anecdote once about two women who got into some dispute. The casual observer had no idea what triggered the explosion, but the first woman’s blood was really boiling and she was blasting the other for some fault or faux pas. The second woman tried to get a word of explanation in and got nowhere, so she wisely decided to hold her tongue.

After a few moments of stating her grievances in a stream of fury the first woman paused to see how the other would respond. When the second woman remained silent, the first stomped her foot in fury and shouted, “Say something, will you! Speak so I can answer you!” No sangfroid there!

Another expression we’ve borrowed from the French fits in well here, too. “LAISSEZ-FAIRE,” according to the Oxford Dictionary, is a non-interventionist policy — literally meaning ‘allow to do.’ A person can adopt the policy of leaving things to take their own course, without trying to influence someone’s choices or action. As in this little fiction tale:

My younger brothers’ arguments sometimes led to scuffles, bruises and bloody noses. At times Mom begged Dad to step in and put a stop to their fight but he was sangfroid by nature and maintained a laissez-faire policy. He’d reassure Mom, “Just let them be; they’ll sort it out themselves.”
However, after the boys started wearing glasses and Dad had to buy replacements for broken ones a few times, he lost his cool. A new law was laid down: “If one of you breaks the other’s glasses in a fight, you are going to pay for them out of your own money. And that means earning it.”