Other switches from Midwest English: “pop” equals “soda”; “sack” equals “bag”; “basement” equals “sella” (cellar); “liquor store” equals “packy” (package store); “hero” or “submarine” equals “grinder” or “grinda”; “milkshake” equals “cabinet” or “frappe” (ask for a milkshake and you’ll get flavored milk — no ice cream!); “sprinkles” equal “jimmies.”
And then there are the Rhode Island phrases that we all make fun of, but which we’ve all incorporated. “Fuggeddaboutit” is used colloquially with both positive and negative connotations, such as “That new cah is terrif, fuggeddaboutit!” or “Some terrible stahm last week, fuggedaboutit!”
“Naht fuh nut’in’ (but)” is the most well-known of the strange double-negatives that Rhodyites spout, preceding and emphasizing a positive declaration, a statement of fact or a piece of advice. “Side by each” may have snuck in with the French-Canadians in Woonsocket. My favorite transliteration of a Cranston teen’s lobes is: PSDS. (Say it out loud a couple of times.)
It’s not only the pronunciation of words or the use of odd phrases that’s different in Rhode Island. It’s also the nicknames for places that are not to be found on many maps. The Pettaquamscutt River, between Narragansett and South Kingstown, is always called Narrow River (no “the,” please), but state maps don’t reflect that nomenclature.
Washington County is always referred to as South County, and that has been placed over the top of said county, with its true name only on the borders. Newport, Middletown, and Portsmouth are often referred to as Aquidneck Island, but that’s also not on the official map.
And then there are the tricky distinctions between Native American-derived names, such as Pawtucket, Pawtuxet, and Pawcatuck (okay, that’s actually over the Westerly line, in Connecticut).
Quonochontaug is a mouthful, but you land on the first syllable, swallow that last “n” and make all the “o’s” sound like “uh.”
Misquamicut is just down the road, accent on the “quam.” I still haven’t mastered the village of Chepiwanoxet, but it doesn’t come into everyday parlance.
Then there are the confusing names of villages within towns, i.e., the Warwick Town Hall is in Apponaug; the South Kingstown Town Hall is in Wakefield, though URI, also in South Kingstown, is in Kingston (note the lack of “w” in this “town”); and the Charlestown Town Hall is in Carolina.
And if the names of places are not disorienting enough, there’s that peculiar Rhodyism whereby people give you directions based on a landmark that no longer exists: “Turn right where the Newport Creamery used to be” or a new restaurant is “where Ground Round used to be.”
Similarly, “Hoxsie Four Corners” is an intersection known by that name but not by the maps, and its “corners” are not very square.
Some of Rhode Island’s foods also have misleading names, such as New York System hot wieners or clam cakes. The latter are often explained as being “fritters,” but it’s important to emphasize that the “clam” part of that name is elusive: clam juice in the batter perhaps, but ordinarily very few pieces of the actual clam.
The wieners (once served by David Byrne, formerly of Talking Heads, who improvised a dance based on the lining up of these on his arm) have nothing to do with New York. They are small pork dogs, topped with a spicy hamburger sauce, chopped onions, and celery salt.
They are also known as “gaggas,” and fans have been known to eat three to six at one sitting. “Saugies” are Rhode Island-made hot dogs (Saugy, Inc., since 1869), known for the crunch of their natural casing and beloved by the natives.
Other sausages prevalent in Rhode Island are the Portuguese chourico (pronounced shuh-reese) and linguica (leeng-gwee-sa). The former is dense, smoky and quite spicy; the latter is less spicy. Both show up in soups, stews, omelets, and pepper-and-sausage “grindas.” “Soupy,” actually sopressata, is a dry-cured pork sausage, often homemade by Westerly natives, but it’s also becoming more popular on local menus.
Coffee milk and Del’s vied for the official state drink in the state legislature in 1993, but coffee milk won out. A mixture of milk and coffee syrup (itself a big seller in supermarkets), coffee milk has been known to outsell chocolate milk nine to one.
It’s thought to derive from the Italian tradition of giving young children a coffee-like hot drink with lots of milk in it. Speaking of coffee, if a counter person asks if you’d like it “regluh,” and you reply in the affirmative, you’ll be handed a cuppa with cream and sugar already added.
Del’s is frozen lemonade, but it’s the frozen lemonade for Rhode Islanders, with bits of fresh lemon zest in the slush. “Cabinets” and “frappes” are ice cream shakes, as mentioned above, but the Awful Awfuls are an invention of the once-ubiquitous Newport Creamery, and they are “ice milk” that is fast-blended until drinkable. My favorite is the vanilla malt version, light on the malt powder.
Jonnycakes also had their turn in the legislature. These corn cakes (said to come from “journey cakes,” back in the 18th-century, when they kept for days in a saddle bag) have passionate defenders of “thin style” (East Bay) and “thick style” (West Bay). In the 1920s, Rhode Island legislators passed a law dictating that if jonnycake is spelled without the “h,” it must be made from whitecap flint corn grown in Rhode Island. As for thin or thick, try ’em both!
And when it comes to chowder, sample all three. The creamy variety is offered at most chowder houses, but true Rhode Islanders take their “chowda” straight up, with clam broth, potatoes and fresh-shucked (and chopped) quahogs (“co-hogs”), hard-shelled clams. This version is called “clear,” though it’s always a little bit gray. There’s also “red,” though not of the Manhattan variety, just a few tomatoes in the clam broth.
Quahogs come into their own as “stuffies,” their large shells used to heap chopped quahog bits and flavored, spiced breadcrumbs before the whole is baked to a crusty brown.
The smallest version of quahogs are called littlenecks, and they’re often steamed for red sauces over pasta (colloquially called “ ’necks and gravy”). Cherrystones are in between “ ’necks” and “chowdas” and are often served raw on the half-shell.
There are countless other foods particular to this small state and there are scores of unusual sayings and hard-to-pronounce geographical names. But that’s no reason to consider Rhode Islandese a foreign language.
With a good phrase book and lots of practice, you will learn to fit right in. Not for nothin’, but this small state can be very friendly, very welcoming, and very nourishing in a variety of ways.
