Liqueur and liquor may both stem from the same Latin verb liquere meaning “to be fluidâ€� and the Old French noun licour meaning “liquid.” Nevertheless, liqueurs are entirely different liquids from their counterpart spirits.

According to Stuart Walton, the author of The Bartender’s Guide to Cocktails and Mixed Drinks, liqueurs differ from liquors in the way they are produced. While straight liquors are mostly unsweetened distillates, liqueurs obtain their distinct characters from the addition of elements such as sweeteners, herbs, nuts, fruit extracts, or roots to a basic spirit. All liqueurs are flavored in some way.

Liqueurs have varying names and flavor profiles depending on their regions of origin. The following is a sample of liqueurs from every continent excluding Antarctica, where the business of producing these liquids is still a bit frozen.

Amarula
A South African cream liqueur, Amarula is made from the sweet yellow fruit of the African marula tree (Sclerocarya birrea). The marula tree’s scientific name comes from the Greek skleros meaning “hard” and karya meaning “walnut.” Alluding to a myth which suggests that elephants become intoxicated after ingesting marula fruit, Amarula’s bottle prominently features an elephant.

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There are few things that I love more than finding out that two seemingly very different words share the same root. Like the shared history of pomegranate and hand grenade, these connections between word origins sometimes surface in decidedly non-linguistic places. Today’s strange linguistic history comes from Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen. McGee’s 700 page tome of food science, history, and myth covers everything from the difference between curds and whey to the development of the French sauce families to the chemical explanation of the affect of cooking on meat pigments. It’s a wildly interesting book for any serious cook or connoisseur, but probably boring for people who don’t share that passion for food.

In his chapter on dairy, McGee discusses the various chemical and physical components of milk, cream, cheese, ice cream, and yogurt (among other products). His section on cream opens with the sentence, “The word cream comes from the Greek chriein, which means ‘to anoint,’ and which is also the root word of Christ (‘the anointed one’).â€� No, this isn’t a dream that Dan Brown had after falling asleep with a half-eaten pint of Ben and Jerry’s—the cream Christ connection is real. McGee goes on to explain that,

The link between ancient ritual and rich food is oil, the substance used to anoint the chosen, and the defining element of cream. Cream is a form of milk in which the fat globules have become more concentrated than usual, whether by rising to the top in a bottle or spinning off from the heavier water phase in a centrifuge.

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Over the past year or so I’ve noticed a strange phenomenon: people are showing up in cafeterias and break rooms carrying tiny plastic boxes or tins filled with elegantly arranged or cutely flourished lunch items. Their sandwiches may look like mice one day, cats another; the fruit resembles a bouquet of flowers—everything has a cup or a slot or a handmade wrapper. It’s a little disconcerting, I’ll admit, when someone bites off the cat ears of their carrot, but it’s also comic and cute. For some reason, the Japanese bento is taking over America.

Bento (弁当 or べんとう) is the art of arranging one’s lunch. A single-portion meal, a Japanese bento typically contains rice, fish or meat, and one or more pickled or cooked vegetables. While stores (anything from a train station vendor to a grocery store to an actual bento store) often carry bentos, the bento is most often associated with the homemade, with the time-intensive process of slicing, shaping, and packing a single meal at home to take to school or work.

The bento dates back to the Kamakura Period of Japanese history (1185-1333) when a type of cooked and then dried rice was developed (hoshi-ii, 糒 or 干し飯). Hoshi-ii , literally meaning “dried meal,â€� can be eaten as it is, dried, or rehydrated in water. Then, during the Azuchi-Momoyama Period (1568-1600), lacquered wooden boxes similar to the ones used today for the modern bento were produced for use at tea parties called hanamis. During the Edo Period (1603-1867), the bento became more refined, as travelers began to create koshibentō (腰弁当), the “waist bento,â€� which consisted of several onigiri (rice balls) wrapped with bamboo leaves or in a woven bamboo box. By the 20th century during the Taishō period (1912 to 1926), aluminum boxes replaced the traditional wooden boxes. Social issues arose with the bento—a bento often signaled a wealthier family, so there were movements to abolish the bento in schools—and after WWII the bento practically disappeared. Instead of a carrying a bento, school children identified themselves by uniforms. During the 1980s, however, the bento began to gain popularity, and the boxed lunch’s popularity has soared in the 21st century.

The arrangement of the bento is called kyaraben (キャラ弁), or “character bento.â€� Kyaraben features food shaped or decorated to look like people or characters (often animals) from popular culture. This style of bento arrangement was devised in order to encourage children to eat varied and nutritious meals—after all, who wouldn’t eat a rice panda or a Hello Kitty sandwich?—but now there are national, and probably international, contests awarding prizes for the most original and most intricate bentos.

Another type of bento is the ekiben (駅弁)or “railway boxed meal.â€� These specific bentos, as obvious by the name, are sold in train stations and on commuter trains. The meals are composed of the traditional bento elements—rice, fish or meat, and vegetables—but are packaged in a disposable container. One type of ekiben is the Makunouchi (幕の内), the “between-act bento.â€� It consists of fish, meat, pickles, eggs and vegetables along with rice and an umeboshi, a pickled ume fruit. The name “makunouchiâ€� dates back to the Edo period (1603-1867) when the bentos were served during the intermissions of traditional plays. The bentos, however, are now common at train stations as a quick “in-between mealâ€� that can be purchased on the go.

Like many aspects of Japanese culture, particularly contemporary fads (anime, Hello Kitty, cell phones), the bento has become extremely popular in certain social groups in America (mostly 20 and 30 somethings in urban areas). I’m not sure how many school children are showing up in class with bentos this fall, but I know plenty of adults who spend hours every night fashioning their lunches. It’s the element of surprise, for some—especially mothers packing their child’s lunch (the child never knows what he or she is eating or what it will look like until lunchtime—or the urge to eliminate the brown bag, plain lunch culture we’ve cultivated for so many years. The aesthetic coupled with sustainability, locally grown food, and the recession makes for a pleasant alternative to the peanut butter sandwich and apple of the 20th century. Or maybe it’s just that we can’t deny the appealing nature of anything that is cute. In either case, the newest American fad has a long and rich history.

This summer feels like it has been, the summer of food. Between the premiers of movies like Food Inc. and Julie and Julia, the buzz around New York Times food critic Frank Bruni’s retirement , and the usual food and beer festivals, food—whether the art of growing it, cooking it, or properly enjoying it—has been unavoidable. The timing of some things like Food Inc. seemed more prodigious than others. President Obama’s appointment of Tom Vilsack (a proponent of increasing regulatory standards on the meat industry) as the head of the Department of Agriculture coincided with the release of the popular documentary which called for agricultural reform and exposed the rampant disease and public health issues associated with the American farming industry. Others, like the surge of urban gardening, seemed the culmination of years of counterculture sensibility erupting in the perfect climate of a recession.

All this talk of food, of course, leads to the question: what is the best? Is the best food ethical, sustainable, local and organic or is it just plain delicious? While I lean towards the local, sustainable qualifiers, it is definitely open for debate. One thing that is immune from debate, however, is the element of taste. Does organic produce taste better than that from an industrial farm? Who knows, but Nicholas Kristof suggests that the issue with industrial farming is that “it has no soul�—calories, yes, but not the element that we as thinking, feeling individuals look for in our daily lives.

I’m not sure what characterizing a farm as soulful or soulless really means, other than some gut feeling I can’t explain, but one thing I do know is that a cuisine exists that can truly be called soulful: soul food. What exactly is soul food?

Soul food is often identified with African Americans living in the South, but it is not necessarily a regional cuisine. The term itself originated in the 1960s with use of soul to characterize anything as African American—soul food, soul music, etc. There is another element to this cuisine that makes it soulful, I think. It is the history of the ingredients and recipes themselves.

The staples of soul food include rice, okra, greens, yams, and discarded parts of animals—the ears, hooves, hocks, and jowls. All of these ingredients are cheap, easily found, and represent the history of an oppressed people group. Much like the Hmong , African American slaves and their descendents relied on using whatever was readily available. Today, soul food tends to be vilified as unhealthy, and certainly the recipes tend to be high fat and high sodium, but one needs to remember that this is the food that kept an entire people group alive.

Soul, in terms of soul food or a farm with soul, means something with history, with care, with culture. The culture of the small, independent farm is certainly different than that of a thousand acre industrial farm and the culture of home cooking with cheap, hearty ingredients carries with it a long, complicated, and violent history. What the Oxford English Dictionary defines as “the principle of life in man� translates readily to food. The third definition, “the seat of emotions, feelings, and sentiments� is what I would apply to soul food and soulful farms. The emotional connection we have with food as fostered by culture is what truly defines a cuisine or a farm as soulful.

Here’s to Friday, and to making it on the Lexiophile’s list of the Top 100 Language Blogs of 2009! Thanks to everyone who voted. Since it’s customary to raise a glass and toast in celebration, here is a language lovers list of the origins of common cocktails and spirits:

Cocktail

Cocktail is an interesting word with an obscure origin. The first recorded use was in 1803’s The Farmers Cabinet, and the first definition appeared in print in May of 1806 in a New York newspaper. The word is of American origin, and there are several competing theories about it’s etymology. Here are just a few of the interesting ones:

In the 18th century, it was a common practice for bartenders to drain the dregs of all the barrels and mix them together, serving the result (the equivalent of a bar-mat’s end of night remnants) at a reduced price. “Cock” was another name for spigot, and “tailings” is the last bit of alcohol, so this drink was called “cock-tailings,” shortened to “cocktail.”

Another story places the word’s origin squarely in 18th century New Orleans, where an apothecary named Peychaud (of bitters fame) served his guests a mix of brandy, sugar, water and bitters in an egg-cup. The drink eventually acquired the name of the egg-cup–”cocquetier” in French–which his guests shortened to “cocktay” and then “cocktail.” The French word “Coquetel” may also have had something to do with “cocktail”; it was the name of a mixed drink from Bordeaux served to French officers during the American Revolution.

What we know for sure is that cocktails are made from mixing liquor with some kind of juice or bitters, and that when mixed properly with great ingredients, they are delicious. So, here are the etymologies of the common spirits used in cocktails, followed by the story of some of our most popular mixes:

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During summer, I can’t say no to a scoop or two of ice cream. So when Mark Dow’s latest Happy Days blog post, No Choice about the Terminology: On pleasure, perception and the language of ice cream came to my attention, I knew it was time to analyze the quintessential all-American summer treat: the ice cream sundae.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines an ice cream sundae as “A confection of ice-cream topped or mixed with crushed fruit, nuts, syrup, whipped cream, etc.� Mark Dow’s Celebrity Pizza manager defined it simply: “As soon as you add a topping, it’s a sundae. You got no choice about the terminology.� It seems like everyone concurs: a sundae is ice cream topped with something.

Things get a little trickier when you delve into the etymology, however. The OED states that the origin of sundae is uncertain due to a number of differing accounts on “both the invention of the dish and of the coinage of its name.â€� However, “the name is generally explained as an alteration of Sunday, either because the dish originally included leftover ice-cream sold cheaply on Monday, or because it was at first sold only on Sunday, having, according to some accounts, been devised to circumvent Sunday legislation. The alteration of the spelling is sometimes said to be out of deference to religious people’s feelings about the word Sunday.â€�

According to “The Official Website of the Ice Cream Sundaeâ€� (who knew the Ice Cream Sundae could have its own website??!) the first sundae was created in 1882 in Ithaca, New York. On some Sunday that year, Chester Platt of Platt & Colt Pharmacy served the Reverend John M. Scott a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a champagne saucer topped with a cherry and cherry syrup. Apparently Scott, the Unitarian minister, named the concoction a Sunday, but the towns of Two Rivers, Wisconsin, Manitowoc, Wisconsin, Buffalo, New York, Plainfield, Illinois, and Norfolk, Virginia all claim to be home to the first ice cream sundae. Concerning the switch from Sunday to sundae, Norfolk, Virginia, claims that its city ordinance prohibited the creation of the “Sunday Soda Menaceâ€� along with alcohol, so an ingenious soda fountain owner began making ice cream sodas sans soda—ice cream, berries, and syrup in a glass. This “dryâ€� soda was thus coined a sundae. Peter Bird’s book The First Food Empire, (2000, Philimore, Chichester, England) states that the name ’sundae’ for ice cream with toppings was adopted from Illinois state’s early prohibition of ice cream consumption on Sundays, but ice cream with a topping that obscured the main product was not deemed to be ice cream.

According to Michael Turback, the creator of IceCreamSundae.com and author of A Month of Sundaes and The Banana Split Book, Ithaca can provide the first documented claim to the Sunday/sundae, an advertisement placed by Chester Platt in the Ithaca Daily Journal on April 5, 1892 for the “10 cent Ice Cream Specialty,� the Cherry Sunday, and the switch from Sunday to sundae is most likely due to legislation like Norfolk’s. The exact location and date of the creation of the sundae, however, is likely to remain obscure.

How does a country foster solidarity during a recession? With food. You may remember the post from a few months ago that explored the etymology of companion — from the Latin for breaking bread together. Well, every culture has distinct customs regarding food.

If the country in question is Britain, it sponsors a “Big Lunchâ€� festival, of course! This past weekend hundreds of thousands (possibly millions) of Britons hit the streets to bond over lunch with their neighbors thanks to the planning and creative initiative of the Eden Project, an environmental organization based in southwest England. Some parties were small, intimate gatherings while others were neighborhood block parties. Lunch, of course, was the central feature. In response to the recession and the general fracturing of society, “people have really come out and said ’sod it’ to all the bad news that’s going on and decided just to have a nice lunch with their neighbors,” the spokesperson, Rhonda Hurcombe explained.

All this talk of lunch, of course, has me wondering where the word comes from. As ubiquitous as it is, I really had no idea of its origin, other than as a shortened version of luncheon. As a description of the midday meal, also referred to as “dinner� in English speaking countries, the Online Etymological Dictionary states that luncheon/lunch is derived from nonechenche, a “light midday meal (none=noon, schench=drink). The form luncheon is probably derived from the Spanish lonja, a slice, a loin. Luncheon, therefore, originally meant “a thick piece� or a “hunk.� The German lunchentach most likely influenced the shortened form, lunch, which came into use in the 19th century. Although this shortened form was originally considered vulgar and inappropriate, it is now the more commonly used form.

The shortened form unsurprisingly coincides with the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. More and more workers needed a light, portable meal to take with them to work—something satisfying but light, quick, and easy to eat. Over time this meal, once carried in a tin, can, or tiffin, evolved, in America, into the brown bag lunch, and globally, the cafeteria.

Now that we’ve sated our etymological appetites, if you find yourself stranded somewhere other than Britain or America and in need of a substantial midday meal or a light snack, then this list might come in handy:

In France, the midday meal is déjeuner and is taken between noon and 2 p.m. Canadians French Canadians are a bit different, however, and call lunch diner—a light meal eaten when standing and not necessarily at noon. The modern German word for lunch is mittag, literally meaning “midday,â€� and again, German lunch hours correspond with the midday, or noon to 2 p.m. In Arabic one can use the word ghathaa’, a derivative of ghithaa‘, meaning, generally, “food.â€� This meal is eaten between 2 and 4 p.m. Finally, in Portuguese almoço means lunch, and, rightly so in my opinion, features a soup, a meat or fish course, and dessert—a full hot meal to keep one going through the long work day.

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Photo, “Lunchtime atop a Skyscraper” depicts workers eating their lunch hundreds of feet up during the construction of the Rockefellar Centre in New York, 1932. By Charles C. Ebbets. Via Wiki.

Following up with our look at the origins of words related to food and spirits, here is a brief history of the language of beer:

One of the world’s oldest and certainly most well-loved beverages has a history that dates back thousands of years BC. Spread through Europe by Germanic and Celtic tribes, beer’s basic ingredients have not changed drastically from its Neolithic roots.

Along with a starch source such as barley and an ingredient to aid fermentation, such as yeast, beer contains a plethora of flavoring agents like fruits, honey, plants, spices, and most typically, hops. To help us gain a deeper enjoyment of this thirst-quenching beverage, we can examine the etymology of its components and the various kinds of beers that exist today.

The word “beer� most likely stems from a 6th-cenury Germanic loan from Latin. Monks – who were the first Europeans to brew beer – borrowed from the Latin bibere, meaning “to drink.� We can see traces of this usage in the English verb “imbibe.� Another version links beer with the Proto-Germanic word beuwo, meaning “barley.�

The two primary types of beer are lagers and ales. Ales are fermented and brewed at higher temperatures than lagers (a difference of about 20 degrees Fahrenheit) and use a different type of yeast. Ales are far more prevalent than lagers, and are characterized by a full-bodied flavor. The term “ale� stems from the Proto-Germanic aluth, meaning beer, and perhaps prior to that from the Proto-Indo-European alum, a word having connections to sorcery and magic. Lagers derive their name from the German Lager, meaning “storehouse.� Until the early 15th century, only the term “ale� was used to refer to beer of any sort.

Stouts, porters, and wheat beers are types of ales. Stouts, for their robust flavor, derive their name from the adjective designating something proud, valiant, and strong. Porter also derives its name from its strength, acquiring this title in the early 18th century due to being high in alcohol content and cheap – a favorite amongst laborers.

Here is a little something to get the weekend started: a brief walk through the language of wine.

The original nectar of the gods has a history – and therefore an etymology – that dates back to our ancient forbearers. Here you will find the sources of the popular names we use today for some of the more common intoxicating grapes.

PINOT NOIR
The “pinots� entered the English language in the early 20th-century from the French wine varietal of the same name. “Pinot� is a variation of the French pineau, from the prefix pin, or pine tree, and the diminutive feminine suffix –eau, and noir is French for the dark red, almost black color of the grapes. The varietal gets its name from the pinecone-shaped formation of grape clusters.

CABERNET SAUVIGNON
This cross between the Cabernet franc and the Sauvignon blanc grape developed in the 17th century in southwestern France. The “sauvignon� title is believed to be derived from the French sauvage, meaning “wild.� An ancient vintage, the Cabernet sauvignon may even have originated during the times of Pliny the Elder in Rome, where he wrote of the Biturca grape. This name bears resemblance to the “Petite Vidure� name used in the 18th century in France to refer to modern Cabernet.

MERLOT
This red wine varietal gets its name from the French Occitan word meaning “young blackbird.� Two components link the merlot grape with blackbirds, the first being the grape’s dark blue color, and the second being the bird’s propensity for eating grapes.

PINOT GRIGIO
This mutation of the Pinot noir grape gets its name from the French pin, meaning pine tree, and the suffix –eau, designating a cone from the pine tree. The varietal gets its name from its pinecone-shaped formation of grape clusters. The term “grigio� is Italian for gray, describing the grape’s grayish-blue coloring.

CHARDONNAY
Originating in the early 20th century, this grape is named after the town in France where the wine was first made. Before the grape varietal was recognized as “chardonnay�, it was already used in the French town of Chablis and known as Chablis wine. This term has a much older history, dating back to the 16th century where it was abbreviated from bois chablis, or deadwood, as a reference to grapes fallen due to high winds.

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