The Omnivorous Fish

Sicilian - Italian - English

Ammaru - Gamberi - Shrimp

Babaluccia - Lumache - Snail

Cumoigghiu - Copertura - Cover

Droco - Laggiu - Over there

Eccu - Ecco - Here you go

Fuinu - Forno - Oven

Gridari - Gridare - To scream (not a good example)

Iddu - Lui - Him

Jelu - Gelo - Pudding or Gel

Lagnusu - Pigro** - Lazy

Manjari - Mangiare - To eat (also pistiari, but this is usually used as “to dine” or “to eat a meal”)

Niuro - Nero - Black

Ojo - Olio - Oil

Pumuruoru - Pomodoro - Tomato

Quannu - Quando - When

Racina - Uva - Grape

Scecchu - Mulo - Mule

Travagghiari (sometimes Travajari)- Lavorare - To work

Unne - Dove - Where

Vogghieri - Volere - To want

Zainu - Zaino - Backpack (another bad example, but I didn’t know the Italian word for backpack until I looked it up)

Notice that we have “j.” Yes, we have j. Italian doesn’t generally have j, k, w, x or y. In fact, in Italian, j is “long I”, k is the greek word (kappa), w is “double-v” (why it isn’t for us, who knows), and y is “Greek I”. J pops up in dialectical words, and modernisms like “Jugoslavia.” You occasionally see K in Northeastern dialects that are German-tinged, like in Alto-Adige, and is having a surge of popularity in the under 40 crowd, in text messages and IMs, as in “ke” (che- what). Likewise X, which is, of course the mathematical symbol for “times,” which in Italian is per (times, for, per) so you might ask Perche- in a text message with “xke-”

**I got the word “pigro” from babelfish but I have never heard an Italian person say it. In my experience they say “non vuole fare niente” – “he doesn’t want to do anything”- in place of the word lazy. Sicilian people usually say lagnusu. As a topic for chop-busting (the national pastime) utility or industriousness is a common topic. Insults might include innutile (useless) or scecchu (a mule, or a horse that is mentally damaged, something that works hard, but not smart).

The Language

There are some obvious relationships that may have jumped out at you. The vowel o often becomes u. A soft g often morphs into j and becomes a /y/ sound. Clusters like li and gl will drift lazily along:

olio /OH lee oh/ to ojo /OY-yo/
tagliare /tal YAH reh/ to tagghiare /tahg-GYA-re/.

Another good example I neglected to include is a double l, which hardens into a double d:

bello /BEL-low/ to biddu /BEEHD-doo/.
capello /ka-PELL-oh/ to capiddu /gah BEEHD-doo/

There is a glottal replacement before double consonants in Sicilian that I tried to emulate with the H in the preceding examples. There is a subtle ejective consonant at the end. I admit, it’s a really strange accent, and the Agent said it sounded like I was speaking Russian. Funnily enough, a lot of those sounds come from Arabic.

Looking at these examples in isolation, you might be tempted to think “this is mostly an accent; this isn’t a language, it’s a dialect.” Well, it’s not. It has its own syntax and verb forms, and the conjugation rules are pretty different. We could draw the same parallels between Italian and French or Spanish words. We’ll get to all that… at some point.

Listening: Panic at the Disco “9 in the Afternoon” Live in studio.

How many can you guess? Or do you know?

Ammaru

Babaluccia

Cumoigghiu

Droco

Eccu

Fuinu

Gridari

Iddu

Jelu

Lagnusu

Manjari

Niuro

Ojo

Pumuruoru

Quannu

Racina

Scecchu

Travagghiare

Unne

Vogghieri

Zainu

Notice that we have “j.”

I know this seems completely uninteresting, but I learned a new Sicilian word today, and it’s a good one: saìmi. It means lard, which in Italian is strutto, or sugna.

Most of the Italian I’ve spoken over the years has been with Sicilian people, and sometimes we’ve spoken Sicilian, and sometimes Italian with a lot of Sicilian vocabulary, idioms and accent. I never had the occasion, however, to say lard, but now I can.

In case I haven’t mentioned it, go to Landmarc. This isn’t a review, this isn’t a recommendation. It’s a mantra. If you live in NYC and it’s remotely convenient for you to get to Tribeca, you need to go. If you’re a serious wine drinker, you need to go, even if you live on the UES. The wine list will blow your mind.

Sorry, just had to get that out.

In other news, the husband and wife team that brought you Landmarc take to the shores with their new Greenwich village “seafood shack,” Ditch Plains. Without even going into the wisdom of opening an oyster bar (let’s be fair, it is in absolutely no way a shack) around the corner from Pearl, let’s just take a moment to obsess over a tiny and meaningless detail that might be signaling the demise of language as we know it. In the press release on the Ditch Plains website, it says- about Marc Murphy, the owner-

“He installed a wooden bar and matching tabletops made from old-growth southern yellow pine reclaimed from abandoned buildings.”

I will be so bold as to suppose that there were workmen who installed this bar. In fact, to paraphrase my father, I didn’t see him do a fucking thing. He had a bar installed. Am I splitting hairs here? Perhaps, but it is in the details. In the plug for the mixology school offered by Employees Only, they make reference to a “modern palette.” Is this a palette made of steel and smoked glass with a white line around it designed for holding drinks? No, they misused the word “palette” where they wanted “palate.”

It’s all fun and games until someone loses an aye.