Dessert Desertion or Assert Dessert

THE WORD
 

Recently, I have been cogitating upon eating dessert first more than I usually do. Perhaps the companion to this entry on “Be-Lied,” “The Impossibility of Eating Dessert First,” explains why. During these meditations, it occurred to me that restaurants offer a dessert menu at lunch and dinner (or dinner and supper—see “Let’s go a-suppering”), but I have never been offered a dessert menu after breakfast. Why is that?

Granted, many breakfast items have qualities of sweetness associated with dessert items—muffins, croissants, and pancakes, to name a few. Some diners may not want to follow a breakfast of Belgian waffles with a piece of lemon meringue pie for dessert—sugar overload. However, couldn’t a sweet breakfast such as a chocolate chip croissant be followed with a savory dessert, maybe chicken pot pie? What if you have eaten a savory breakfast of bacon and eggs, eggs Benedict, or steak and eggs? Shouldn’t a diner be offered a sweet dessert menu in that case?

To explore this issue, I consulted the American Heritage Dictionary (AHD) on-line. Dessert is defined firstly as “A usually sweet course or dish, as of fruit, ice cream, or pastry, served at the end of a meal.” By definition, dessert is sweet, not savory, so a “savory dessert” would be an oxymoron. So much for my suggestion of following a sweet breakfast with a savory dessert! However, I still don’t know why restaurants don’t offer a dessert menu after breakfast.

To complicate matters, this definition raises a second issue regarding dessert. By definition, dessert follows the meal. Therefore, if dessert is eaten first, can it truly be considered dessert since it precedes, not follows, the meal? For the throngs of us who do eat dessert first upon occasion, is chocolate pudding still “dessert” if it precedes the meal? If it precedes the meal, does it not become a sweet entrée? By definition, it is impossible to eat dessert first!

Interestingly, the word “dessert” comes from the Old French “desservir,” meaning “to clear the table.” In terms of enjoyment, eating dessert and clearing the table are incompatable. The AHD definition refers the reader to the word “serve.” The second definition refers to mealtime: “to prepare and offer (food, for example): serve tea,” and “to place food before (someone); wait on: served the guests a wonderful dinner.” “Serve” ultimately derives from a Latin word for slave, which adds a different perspective to an unappreciated cook’s complaint of slaving over a hot stove. Putting the prefix “de-,“ “to move away from,” in front of “serve,” captures the idea of moving away from serving the meal by eating dessert.

Dictionary notwithstanding, we still face the Eat Dessert First conundrum. Should we create a new word for a “sweet course or dish” that we eat at the beginning of a meal instead of at its conclusion? To that end, on the web site Prefixsuffix.com I found several prefixes meaning “toward,” including “as-.” Therefore, I propose to combine the prefix “as-“ with the base of “dessert,” “sert” to create a new noun, “assert,” which I assert (verb) means “A usually sweet course or dish, as of fruit, ice cream, or pastry, served at the BEGINNING of a meal,” thereby saving the intent of the Eat Dessert First movement! Perhaps, the slogan should go “Assert Dessert First!”

By the way, just to be a contrarian, the next time I eat breakfast out, I intend to ask for a dessert menu at the end of my meal. After all, chocolate pudding by any other name—AND at any point in the meal—tastes just as sweet.

NOTES: My stellar editor and husband, Richard Seegal, added a few musings of his own on the subject of dessert. First, he noted the phrase “just desserts” which refers to someone receiving justice. An on-line search led me to “Grammarist” and the distinction between “just deserts” and “just desserts.” Because of differences in the pronunciation and meaning of “desert,” with the emphasis on the first syllable and meaning “a barren or desolate area,” and with the emphasis on the second syllable and meaning “something that is deserved or merited,” people frequently mistake the phrase for “just desserts.”

Secondly, he pointed out that a lack of a sweet course after a meal would be a “dessert desert.” I add that children who do not get dessert because they did not eat their vegetables get their “just deserts.”

Face Poking Don

Ever since the Germanic chieftain Hengist—or was it his co-chieftain Horsa?—landed on the shores of Celtic Britain in 499 and uttered the first word of Old English, “Hwaet!” English spelling has been the subject of much debate and grief. As an English teacher, I can attest to the creative spelling that some students resort to in their writings. Every reader of this blog—admit it—has a spelling story lurking somewhere in the past. In the old days of writing letters in ink on paper, a certain friend always wrote to me in red in order to discourage me from correcting the spelling, which I never would have done, but even if I had, I customarily graded in green.

To a certain extent, spell check has given relief to legions of frustrated spellers. However, we all know that spill Czech dose knot catch awl eras. (Nor did grammar check flag the preceding clause, by the way.) As computer technology advances, auto-correct has added another facet—sometimes funny, sometimes frustrating—to the challenge of spelling as it anticipates the writer’s thoughts.

For instance, my nickname among family is “Donner,” as in the reindeer. Recently, I dashed off an e-mail only to realize after I had sent it, that auto-correct had signed me off as “Donned.” I am not sure why auto-correct felt compelled to announce that I was clothed, or had donned clothing according to the second usage in the American Heritage Dictionary on-line, as I sent the message. Nor were any of the first usage definitions relevant, as I have not been “Donned” (or labeled as) a Spanish man, a college tutor or professor, a mafia boss, or “an important personage.” (I do know some very nice men named “Don,” though.) Now I pay attention when I sign off, whether I have donned clothing or not.

Recently, I had another amusing episode with auto-correct. I intended to write the word “Facebooker,” as in someone who uses Facebook, in an e-mail. Auto-correct suggested “face poker” for my consideration. Had the Three Stooges or some coder with a sense of humor hacked my auto-correct? How did the word “poker” become a viable suggestion for “booker”? Couldn’t auto-correct intuit that a “face booker” might be someone who schedules appointments at salons for make-overs, and provide that suggestion, instead? Or perhaps a “face booker” might be someone who schedules head shots for models or actors? Had I been writing about playing cards, “poker face” would have made sense. But FACE POKER?!?

Of course, the obvious solution is to disable my auto-correct. However, eye be leave aye well con tin ewe two sim plea take mai chintzes. Besides, thus far, I am still a better smeller—oops, I mean speller—than auto-correct, even if auto-correct has a weird sense of humor.

NOTE: Even though spell check suggested “Facebooked” and “Face booker” as replacements for “Facebooker,” the Merriam-Webster dictionary associated with my version of Word has no definitions for those suggestions, nor does the American Heritage Dictionary. The American Heritage Dictionary on-line could not find a definition for “mai,” suggesting “mai tai,” the rum cocktail, but the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “mai” as “a slow Japanese folk or theater dance featuring hand gestures—distinguished from odori.” Again, grammar check did not flag the second sentence of the above paragraph.

Deltiology or Postcards: “A happy invention”

I grew up in Baton Rouge near “Delta” country. The American Heritage on-line dictionary points out this region’s relevance as “the home of some of the earliest blues music.” However, this happy occurrence does not make me a deltiologist. Deltiology deals not with the blues—at least not directly--but with the collection and study of postcards.

Many things, in addition to family and friends, make me happy. Potatoes, basset hounds, grocery shopping, and postcards come immediately to mind. As a child, I remember developing my writing skills by making grocery lists. However, I cannot remember exactly when I became enamored with writing postcards. As a child, I had many pen pals. Perhaps once my pen pals faded away in junior high school, I made up for this writing vacuum through writing postcards. I keep postcard stamps in my wallet so that I can spontaneously “postcard” someone easily.

Facebook before the internet

Recently, I read an intriguing account of the life of a vicar in Wales in the late 19^th century, “Kilvert’s Diary, 1870-1879.” In the entry dated 4 October 1870, Kilvert wrote, “Today I sent my first post cards, to my Mother, Thersie, Emmie and Perch. They are capital things, simple, useful and handy. A happy invention.” This entry caused me to ponder upon the history of postcards. According to the web site, The History of Postcards, as their popularity grew, postcards became a primary way to send friends and family a snapshot of surroundings while traveling, an early form of Facebook, or even photographs of home, family, or basset hounds during the Christmas holiday season. 

In discussing postcard history, the web site Smithsonian Institution Archives lists the “Pre-Postcard Period” as spanning the years 1848 through 1870, so Kilvert in rural Wales, was using the latest technology to communicate with family. Even in today’s Facebook world, postcard clubs exist. After all, you cannot hang Facebook posts on your refrigerator. I am a Facebooker. While technically I am not a deltiologist, I am very happy to be first and foremost a postcard enthusiast.