Key:A Menu Lost in Translation: Difference between revisions

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== Follow the Japanese ==

[[File:Follow the Japanese.jpg|thumb|upright|left|For real]]

Let’s start with where the confusion came from. The Polish word ''“śledź”'' ~~(pronounced:~~ {{~~pron~~|~~shletch~~}}) is the imperative mood of the verb ''“śledzić”'', meaning “to follow”, “to trace” or “to spy”. But it’s also got another meaning, completely unrelated, which would be more fitting in this context: it’s “herring”. So a better translation of '''''“śledź po japońsku”''''' would have been “herring in the Japanese style”. Now what the heck is that?

Let’s start with where the confusion came from. The Polish word ''“śledź”''{{czyt|śledź}} is the imperative mood of the verb ''“śledzić”'', meaning “to follow”, “to trace” or “to spy”. But it’s also got another meaning, completely unrelated, which would be more fitting in this context: it’s “herring”. So a better translation of '''''“śledź po japońsku”''''' would have been “herring in the Japanese style”. Now what the heck is that?

The “Japanese-style” herring is a very appetising appetiser that was quite popular in Communist Poland. The recipë largely boils down to wrapping a marinated herring fillet around a hard-boiled egg. Perhaps the idea of wrapping a piece of uncooked fish around something reminded one Polish chef of ''maki sushi'' rolls, giving rise to its association with Japanese cuisine? Otherwise, this Polish invention has about as much to do with Japan as Hawaiian pizza has to do with Hawaii.

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The restaurant’s spokesperson said they would be “having a word with [their] translator”. By which, I suppose, they meant they would be trying to hold a conversation with Google Translate.

Let’s see what happened here, step by step. The original Polish name for the key ingredient is ''“szyjki rakowe”'' ~~(pronounced:~~ {{~~pron~~|~~shiy|kee}} {{pron|Rah|kaw|veh~~}}). ''“Szyjki”'' could be literally translated as “little necks”, but in this case it refers to crayfish tails (which, technically, are neither tails nor necks, but [https://aquariumbreeder.com/crayfish-external-anatomy/ abdomina]). ''“Rak”'', the Polish word for crayfish, is also used for most of the things which the English language refers to by the Latin word for “crab”, that is, “cancer” – such as the Zodiac sign and, yes, the disease too. And specifically, ''“rak szyjki macicy”'', or “cancer of the neck of the womb”, is the Polish medical term for cervical cancer. ''“Szyjki rakowe”'' and ''“rak szyjki”'' may look and sound similar, but the difference in meaning is that between delicious and disgusting.

Let’s see what happened here, step by step. The original Polish name for the key ingredient is ''“szyjki rakowe”''{{czyt|szyjki rakowe}}. ''“Szyjki”'' could be literally translated as “little necks”, but in this case it refers to crayfish tails (which, technically, are neither tails nor necks, but [https://aquariumbreeder.com/crayfish-external-anatomy/ abdomina]). ''“Rak”'', the Polish word for crayfish, is also used for most of the things which the English language refers to by the Latin word for “crab”, that is, “cancer” – such as the Zodiac sign and, yes, the disease too. And specifically, ''“rak szyjki macicy”'', or “cancer of the neck of the womb”, is the Polish medical term for cervical cancer. ''“Szyjki rakowe”'' and ''“rak szyjki”'' may look and sound similar, but the difference in meaning is that between delicious and disgusting.

<mobileonly>[[File:zupa-z-raków_3.jpg|thumb|<s>Cervical cancer</s> crayfish soup is a 19th-century Polish classic.]]</mobileonly>

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== Denmark from Chicken ==

[[File:Denmark from Chicken.jpg|thumb|left|Something is rotten in this bilingual menu from a Chinese restaurant in Poland]]

And now for the main course, Denmark from chicken. Is this some kind of Nordic version of chicken Kiev (or is it chicken Kyiv)? Not really. You see, ''“Dania”'' (with capital D) is the Polish name for the country of Denmark. But ''“dania”'' (with lower-case D and a marginally different pronunciation) is the Polish word for dishes or courses. So '''''“dania z kurczaka”''''' is not so much a single preparation as it’s the title of a whole section of a menu, devoted to chicken dishes in general. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the state of Denmark.

And now for the main course, Denmark from chicken. Is this some kind of Nordic version of chicken Kiev (or is it chicken Kyiv)? Not really. You see, ''“Dania”''{{czyt|Dańja}} (with capital D) is the Polish name for the country of Denmark. But ''“dania”''{{czyt|dania}} (with lower-case D and a marginally different pronunciation) is the Polish word for dishes or courses. So '''''“dania z kurczaka”''''' is not so much a single preparation as it’s the title of a whole section of a menu, devoted to chicken dishes in general. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the state of Denmark.

I suppose you still expect a recipë, though, don’t you? Okay, so let’s pick what is perhaps the most Polish chicken dish you can find, which is the ''kurczę pieczone po polsku'', or liver-stuffed roasted chicken in the Polish style.

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<mobileonly>[[File:Cocks{{'}}s Reading Sauce.jpg|thumb|upright|Cocks’s Reading Sauce advertisement]]</mobileonly>

Back to square one then. A better explanation would be that the “cocks sauce” in the menu was a result of mistranslation. The English word “cocks” has multiple meanings and so do the Polish terms ''“kury”'' and ''“kurki”'' ~~(pronounced: {{pron|koo|Rih}},~~ {{~~pron|kooR~~|~~kee~~}}). The primary meaning of “cocks” is “male domestic fowl”, also known as “cockerels” or “roosters”. In modern Polish, ''“kury”'' refers to hens, but a few centuries ago it meant “roosters” instead. So was the sauce made from the meat of cockerels? Well, no.

Back to square one then. A better explanation would be that the “cocks sauce” in the menu was a result of mistranslation. The English word “cocks” has multiple meanings and so do the Polish terms ''“kury”''{{czyt|kury}} and ''“kurki”''{{czyt|kurki}}. The primary meaning of “cocks” is “male domestic fowl”, also known as “cockerels” or “roosters”. In modern Polish, ''“kury”'' refers to hens, but a few centuries ago it meant “roosters” instead. So was the sauce made from the meat of cockerels? Well, no.

<nomobile>[[File:Kurki.jpg|thumb|left|upright|''Kurki:'' which could they mean?]]</nomobile>

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== Ice Cream with Barrister ==

[[File:Ice cream with barrister.jpg|thumb|left|upright|We’re moving into legal territory.]]

Would you like your lawyer to come along with your order of ice cream? If not, then don’t worry; this is just another botched translation. The original Polish phrase is '''''“lody z adwokatem”''''', where ''“adwokat”'' ~~(pronounced:~~ {{~~pron~~|~~ahd|vaw|kaht~~}}) is the word that threw the machine translator off. In one sense, it does refer to a lawyer that advocates your case in a court of law, coming from the Latin word ''“advocatus”'', “the one who has been called to one’s aid”.

Would you like your lawyer to come along with your order of ice cream? If not, then don’t worry; this is just another botched translation. The original Polish phrase is '''''“lody z adwokatem”''''', where ''“adwokat”''{{czyt|adwokat}} is the word that threw the machine translator off. In one sense, it does refer to a lawyer that advocates your case in a court of law, coming from the Latin word ''“advocatus”'', “the one who has been called to one’s aid”.

But in this case, ''“adwokat”'' is just a Polonised spelling of the Dutch ''“advocaat”'', which refers to a sweet, smooth, custardy yellow drink made from yolks, sugar and alcohol. Nobody really knows why this egg liqueur is called that. One hypothesis says it was Dutch lawyers’ beverage of choice. But there’s a more curious one, which claims that the name of the drink ultimately comes from a Native American word for testicles.

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You may have wanted to keep the barrister from the cold dessert, as apparently the hot dessert has been found guilty! Let’s just hope the only thing the apple pie has been convicted of is being a guilty pleasure. The one who’s really guilty here is the restaurant owner who tried to cut corners by using unverified machine translation.

The Polish adjective ''“winny”'' ~~(pronounced:~~ {{~~pron~~|~~veen|nih~~}}) has at least two meanings. In one sense, it comes from the noun ''“wina”'', which translates as “guilt, fault or blame”. But in another sense, it derives from the completely unrelated word ''“wino”'', which means “wine”. “Winey” makes much more sense in the culinary context than “guilty”.

The Polish adjective ''“winny”''{{czyt|winny}} has at least two meanings. In one sense, it comes from the noun ''“wina”'', which translates as “guilt, fault or blame”. But in another sense, it derives from the completely unrelated word ''“wino”'', which means “wine”. “Winey” makes much more sense in the culinary context than “guilty”.

''“Ciasto”'' (''“cieście”'' in the locative case) is another problematic word. It may refer to a pie or cake, but also to uncooked dough or batter. As it turns out, '''''jabłka w cieście winnym''''' isn’t a pie at all; it’s apple fritters made by dunking apple slices in wine-infused batter before deep-frying them.

@@ Line 1: / Line 1: @@
 == Follow the Japanese ==
 [[File:Follow the Japanese.jpg|thumb|upright|left|For real]]
-Let’s start with where the confusion came from. The Polish word ''“śledź”'' (pronounced: {{pron|shletch}}) is the imperative mood of the verb ''“śledzić”'', meaning “to follow”, “to trace” or “to spy”. But it’s also got another meaning, completely unrelated, which would be more fitting in this context: it’s “herring”. So a&nbsp;better translation of '''''“śledź po japońsku”''''' would have been “herring in the Japanese style”. Now what the heck is that?
+Let’s start with where the confusion came from. The Polish word ''“śledź”''{{czyt|śledź}} is the imperative mood of the verb ''“śledzić”'', meaning “to follow”, “to trace” or “to spy”. But it’s also got another meaning, completely unrelated, which would be more fitting in this context: it’s “herring”. So a&nbsp;better translation of '''''“śledź po japońsku”''''' would have been “herring in the Japanese style”. Now what the heck is that?
 The “Japanese-style” herring is a&nbsp;very appetising appetiser that was quite popular in Communist Poland. The recipë largely boils down to wrapping a&nbsp;marinated herring fillet around a&nbsp;hard-boiled egg. Perhaps the idea of wrapping a&nbsp;piece of uncooked fish around something reminded one Polish chef of ''maki sushi'' rolls, giving rise to its association with Japanese cuisine? Otherwise, this Polish invention has about as much to do with Japan as Hawaiian pizza has to do with Hawaii.
@@ Line 123: / Line 123: @@
 The restaurant’s spokesperson said they would be “having a&nbsp;word with [their] translator”. By which, I suppose, they meant they would be trying to hold a&nbsp;conversation with Google Translate.
-Let’s see what happened here, step by step. The original Polish name for the key ingredient is ''“szyjki rakowe”'' (pronounced: {{pron|shiy|kee}} {{pron|Rah|kaw|veh}}). ''“Szyjki”'' could be literally translated as “little necks”, but in this case it refers to crayfish tails (which, technically, are neither tails nor necks, but [https://aquariumbreeder.com/crayfish-external-anatomy/ abdomina]). ''“Rak”'', the Polish word for crayfish, is also used for most of the things which the English language refers to by the Latin word for “crab”, that is, “cancer” – such as the Zodiac sign and, yes, the disease too. And specifically, ''“rak szyjki macicy”'', or “cancer of the neck of the womb”, is the Polish medical term for cervical cancer. ''“Szyjki rakowe”'' and ''“rak szyjki”'' may look and sound similar, but the difference in meaning is that between delicious and disgusting.
+Let’s see what happened here, step by step. The original Polish name for the key ingredient is ''“szyjki rakowe”''{{czyt|szyjki rakowe}}. ''“Szyjki”'' could be literally translated as “little necks”, but in this case it refers to crayfish tails (which, technically, are neither tails nor necks, but [https://aquariumbreeder.com/crayfish-external-anatomy/ abdomina]). ''“Rak”'', the Polish word for crayfish, is also used for most of the things which the English language refers to by the Latin word for “crab”, that is, “cancer” – such as the Zodiac sign and, yes, the disease too. And specifically, ''“rak szyjki macicy”'', or “cancer of the neck of the womb”, is the Polish medical term for cervical cancer. ''“Szyjki rakowe”'' and ''“rak szyjki”'' may look and sound similar, but the difference in meaning is that between delicious and disgusting.
 <mobileonly>[[File:zupa-z-raków_3.jpg|thumb|<s>Cervical cancer</s> crayfish soup is a&nbsp;19th-century Polish classic.]]</mobileonly>
@@ Line 162: / Line 162: @@
 == Denmark from Chicken ==
 [[File:Denmark from Chicken.jpg|thumb|left|Something is rotten in this bilingual menu from a&nbsp;Chinese restaurant in Poland]]
-And now for the main course, Denmark from chicken. Is this some kind of Nordic version of chicken Kiev (or is it chicken Kyiv)? Not really. You see, ''“Dania”'' (with capital D) is the Polish name for the country of Denmark. But ''“dania”'' (with lower-case D and a&nbsp;marginally different pronunciation) is the Polish word for dishes or courses. So '''''“dania z kurczaka”''''' is not so much a&nbsp;single preparation as it’s the title of a&nbsp;whole section of a&nbsp;menu, devoted to chicken dishes in general. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the state of Denmark.
+And now for the main course, Denmark from chicken. Is this some kind of Nordic version of chicken Kiev (or is it chicken Kyiv)? Not really. You see, ''“Dania”''{{czyt|Dańja}} (with capital D) is the Polish name for the country of Denmark. But ''“dania”''{{czyt|dania}} (with lower-case D and a&nbsp;marginally different pronunciation) is the Polish word for dishes or courses. So '''''“dania z kurczaka”''''' is not so much a&nbsp;single preparation as it’s the title of a&nbsp;whole section of a&nbsp;menu, devoted to chicken dishes in general. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the state of Denmark.
 I suppose you still expect a&nbsp;recipë, though, don’t you? Okay, so let’s pick what is perhaps the most Polish chicken dish you can find, which is the ''kurczę pieczone po polsku'', or liver-stuffed roasted chicken in the Polish style.
@@ Line 235: / Line 235: @@
 <mobileonly>[[File:Cocks{{'}}s Reading Sauce.jpg|thumb|upright|Cocks’s Reading Sauce advertisement]]</mobileonly>
-Back to square one then. A&nbsp;better explanation would be that the “cocks sauce” in the menu was a&nbsp;result of mistranslation. The English word “cocks” has multiple meanings and so do the Polish terms ''“kury”'' and ''“kurki”'' (pronounced: {{pron|koo|Rih}}, {{pron|kooR|kee}}). The primary meaning of “cocks” is “male domestic fowl”, also known as “cockerels” or “roosters”. In modern Polish, ''“kury”'' refers to hens, but a&nbsp;few centuries ago it meant “roosters” instead. So was the sauce made from the meat of cockerels? Well, no.
+Back to square one then. A&nbsp;better explanation would be that the “cocks sauce” in the menu was a&nbsp;result of mistranslation. The English word “cocks” has multiple meanings and so do the Polish terms ''“kury”''{{czyt|kury}} and ''“kurki”''{{czyt|kurki}}. The primary meaning of “cocks” is “male domestic fowl”, also known as “cockerels” or “roosters”. In modern Polish, ''“kury”'' refers to hens, but a&nbsp;few centuries ago it meant “roosters” instead. So was the sauce made from the meat of cockerels? Well, no.
 <nomobile>[[File:Kurki.jpg|thumb|left|upright|''Kurki:'' which could they mean?]]</nomobile>
@@ Line 281: / Line 281: @@
 == Ice Cream with Barrister ==
 [[File:Ice cream with barrister.jpg|thumb|left|upright|We’re moving into legal territory.]]
-Would you like your lawyer to come along with your order of ice cream? If not, then don’t worry; this is just another botched translation. The original Polish phrase is '''''“lody z adwokatem”''''', where ''“adwokat”'' (pronounced: {{pron|ahd|vaw|kaht}}) is the word that threw the machine translator off. In one sense, it does refer to a&nbsp;lawyer that advocates your case in a&nbsp;court of law, coming from the Latin word ''“advocatus”'', “the one who has been called to one’s aid”.
+Would you like your lawyer to come along with your order of ice cream? If not, then don’t worry; this is just another botched translation. The original Polish phrase is '''''“lody z adwokatem”''''', where ''“adwokat”''{{czyt|adwokat}} is the word that threw the machine translator off. In one sense, it does refer to a&nbsp;lawyer that advocates your case in a&nbsp;court of law, coming from the Latin word ''“advocatus”'', “the one who has been called to one’s aid”.
 But in this case, ''“adwokat”'' is just a&nbsp;Polonised spelling of the Dutch ''“advocaat”'', which refers to a&nbsp;sweet, smooth, custardy yellow drink made from yolks, sugar and alcohol. Nobody really knows why this egg liqueur is called that. One hypothesis says it was Dutch lawyers’ beverage of choice. But there’s a&nbsp;more curious one, which claims that the name of the drink ultimately comes from a&nbsp;Native American word for testicles.
@@ Line 373: / Line 373: @@
 You may have wanted to keep the barrister from the cold dessert, as apparently the hot dessert has been found guilty! Let’s just hope the only thing the apple pie has been convicted of is being a&nbsp;guilty pleasure. The one who’s really guilty here is the restaurant owner who tried to cut corners by using unverified machine translation.
-The Polish adjective ''“winny”'' (pronounced: {{pron|veen|nih}}) has at least two meanings. In one sense, it comes from the noun ''“wina”'', which translates as “guilt, fault or blame”. But in another sense, it derives from the completely unrelated word ''“wino”'', which means “wine”. “Winey” makes much more sense in the culinary context than “guilty”.
+The Polish adjective ''“winny”''{{czyt|winny}} has at least two meanings. In one sense, it comes from the noun ''“wina”'', which translates as “guilt, fault or blame”. But in another sense, it derives from the completely unrelated word ''“wino”'', which means “wine”. “Winey” makes much more sense in the culinary context than “guilty”.
 ''“Ciasto”'' (''“cieście”'' in the locative case) is another problematic word. It may refer to a&nbsp;pie or cake, but also to uncooked dough or batter. As it turns out, '''''jabłka w cieście winnym''''' isn’t a&nbsp;pie at all; it’s apple fritters made by dunking apple slices in wine-infused batter before deep-frying them.