Italian 100 in the Blue Room
It’s a Sunday afternoon, and you’re at the Blue Room to get your usual deli sandwich before the early close at 5pm. It’s 4:30, the workers are cleaning up, and the line at the deli slowly snakes around the cashier. Finally, you reach the front of the line. Only one person ahead of you. You’re practicing your order in your head, despite the fact that you always get the same thing. Then you hear it. A noise that grates on your ears, pierces your soul, and makes you question your entire existence at Brown:
“Hi, can I have the Key-A-Botta roll please?”
The what? You look at the worker. Her eyes glaze over in a sort of dead stare. She has heard this before. “Any meat?” she asks without losing a beat.
“Pro-scoot-o, please.”
Now, this is just ridiculous. He has to be joking, right? It can’t possibly get any worse.
“Cheese?”
He lifts his hands to form a pinched hand, and his eyes rise to the ceiling. “Fresh mozz-A-rella,” he says, in a horrible Italian accent. When, at last, you order your own sandwich, your voice sounds flat, distant, and dejected as you ask for more chipotle mayo.
As a PSA from a Blue Room worker (and Italian major, so I’m verifiably an expert) who has heard it all, here’s how to correctly pronounce the “foreign” foods at the blue room:
- Ciabatta: “chuh-BAA-tuh”
- Prosciutto: “pro-SHOO-tow”
- Balsamic: “ball-SAA-mukh”
- Focaccia: “foh-KAA-chuh”
- Capicola: “ca-PEE-co-luh”*
- Arugula: “ah-ROO-guh-luh”
*this is the pretentious pronunciation. Just say “ca-PIH-cola”
Bonus:
- Dijon: “dee-ZHAWN”
- Chèvre: just say goat cheese
Images via The Blue Room’s Instagram, and via Ali Lovell '21