Once and for all! Lat-KAH or Lat-KEY?
Originally published in The Chicago Tribune, December 2006
When we moved to Chicago in 1999, my son left any trace of an East Coast accent in his dust, as if he hadn’t been weaned on cheesesteaks. He was 2.
With his flat A’s, he was hard to resist. I caved and began to speak to him in his Midwestern language. I sat by him, not with him, as he and his younger sister, who was born in Chicago, grew up knowing that the lake was always east.
More than a dozen years of my life have been spent in and around Chicago and other parts of the Midwest, living, working and raising children. Although we’ve lived in different regions of the country, my kids have a clear Midwestern lilt in their voices and faint Chicago accents, tempered only by their Philadelphia heritage and my insistence. They know that, to me, the Atlantic Ocean is the body of water that’s east. They humor me and tolerate my belief that orange starts with the sound of the word “are.”
Chicago is now my adopted hometown; sometimes I forget I didn’t grow up here. But I am reminded by certain regional Epicurean idiosyncrasies that creep into everyday life. I can order sprinkles on my ice cream, although in my heart they always will be jimmies. I have accepted and embraced deep-dish pizza, although a food eaten with a fork can never fully be deemed pizza by any self-respecting East Coaster. And although my kids laugh at my short A’s, I’m the one laughing when someone asks for pop. In our house, it’s soda.
But it’s at this time of year that I’m reminded most that regional dialect can influence perception, and that I am not from Chicago.
During Hanukkah, the Jewish holiday that began Friday evening, I light a menorah. That’s men-O-rah. In Chicago it’s me-NOR-ah. And though that might not sound like a big difference, I can’t bring myself to say it. It just sounds wrong. And when a favorite Hanukkah treat is coated in a Chicago accent, I can’t eat it. Logically I know that a latka (pronounced LAT-ka) by any other name is still a crispy, fried potato pancake waiting for a dollop of sour cream or applesauce. But I just can’t say lat-KEY, like my kids and everyone else around me. It’s not for lack of trying. Maybe it’s too much of a reminder that this is not from whence I came, and that my kids will retain the holiday traditions, memories and colloquialisms I pass on to them.
So if you walk into my house during Hanukkah, you’ll smell latkas frying. The latkes and the pop can be found around the caw-ner.
Lat-keys? That’s just wrong. Happy Hanukkah, Amy.
Thanks Wendy…there is something to having that East Coast bond with people!!
I had flat As too, once, but was not envied.
Always thought it was “laht-kuh” (rhyming with that Grey Goose elixer and the wingnut lady on the series Taxi). Man, I’m old.
LOL! That’s funny. I grew up with my mother speaking a West Virginian accent. It drove me NUTS because I was big into spelling, and she always mispronounced and caused me to spell a different word!
Pop? Pop?? Isn’t that a term for a grandfather? Oh, I’m so east coast. Raising my soda to you, Happy Hanukkah!
I grew up in western Michigan, where the lake was due west and we called it pop. Then I moved to DC where I FOUGHT the word soda and couldn’t get used to the placement of the large body of water. In college I caved and started calling it soda, then I moved back to Michigan. I call it pop for my sister’s kids, but that’s it.
When I moved to Chicago the following year I was completely disoriented. I grew up knowing Lake Michigan was due west. I could be an hour from shore and still know where it was. Not so in Chicago. I got lost so many times because I knew where the lake was but kept thinking it was west, not east. After nine years I figured it out, but I still call it soda.
(sadly, I always thought they were lat-keys…)
I had to comment – I grew up saying LAHT-kah, and only realized last year that Chicagoans didn’t understand me when I was trying to place an order for my kids’ school Hanukka party. After saying I wanted to order a batch of “laht-kahs” several times, I said LAT-kee, and heard the relief of understanding on the other end of the phone. I say Lat-kee in Chicago and Laht-kah back home (which isn’t exactly eastern US, it’s St. Louis, MO!)
Mmm. Latkas.. I thought that Hanukkah started last night, not Friday? I’m easily confused, though.
Oh, and I used to date a guy who called soda ‘coke’.
“You want a coke?”
“Sure”
“What kind?”
“Root Beer”.
Obviously, that didn’t last.
Sorry to pester you, but I just looked more closely and saw that you published this in 2006. So Hanukkah started on a Friday that year. Duh. See? Easily confused.
Fellow Jew/East Coaster here and you’re right. If someone offers you a LatKEY, turn it down, it’s not real.
Once again I have to say I love your writing and way of looking at life!!
This question was not covered in Mr. Verbit’s ‘gimel’ class…