Reading the Package

Reading the Package / En Lisant l’Emballage

Just two countries in the entire world have English and French as their only official languages: Cameroon and Canada.

For us Canadians, this means that packaged products are required by federal law to be labeled in English and French. This regulation was designed to ease commerce between English- and French-speaking populations. But it’s had an extraordinarily positive side-effect: every pantry, dining table, and trip to the grocery store is an opportunity for informal language acquisition.

Food packaging is a surprisingly ideal way to pick up new vocabulary. Even if you don’t understand the French, the English subtitles are right there to help you along. And once you figure out what the French means, your learning experience is paired with a concrete object and a sensory experience (yum), which act as mnemonics, helping you remember the new word. And unless you can polish off a box of Lucky Charms in one sitting (which is entirely possible for me), you’ll have the opportunity to reread that box on several, separate occasions, which further ingrains the new word in your brain.

Learning another language gives us insight into the strengths and shortcomings of our own language, it gives us new ways of seeing the world around us, and it even reveals something of our history. At the very least, it’s something to entertain us over breakfast.

Below is a growing collection of packages that helped me expand my French vocabulary while offering insights beyond my dining table. The images are titled in English, French, and the literal translation from French into English.

Visitors to Canada are often surprised to find out that not everyone here speaks French. But second language acquisition is a life-long process that all literate Canadians engage in when we read the label. For my fellow Canadians who don’t consider themselves bilingual, perhaps the following images will convince you otherwise. At least, I hope they will inspire you to spend more time reading the package.

Sunflower/Tournesol
(turns to sun)

The word “sunflower” beautifully describes this plant’s circular face with its yellow, ray-like petals that resemble the sun. And the French word “tournesol” is equally beautiful. "Tournesol" comes from the verb "tourner", which means “to turn” and "sol" which means “sun”. While you won’t see sunflowers turning to the sun in real-time (they turn rather slowly), the name "tournesol" brings this plant's hidden movement to the forefront.

Vinegar/Vinaigre
(sour wine)

Vinegar is such a ubiquitous ingredient, it’s surprising how often its etymology goes unnoticed. The French word “vinaigre” (notice the slight variation in spelling) is a compound word composed of “vin” and “aigre”. “Vin” is French for “wine” and “aigre” means “sour”. Vinegar is what you get when your wine has been sitting in the cellar for too long.

Cauliflower/Chou-Fleur
(cabbage flower)

The French word for "cabbage", “chou-fleur”, literally means "cabbage flower", revealing this vegetable’s genetic lineage. Cabbage and cauliflower are both the same species, Brassica oleracea. The English name hints too at the plant’s biology if you know a bit of Latin: the Latin “caulis” means "cabbage".

Dandelion/Pissenlit
(piss in bed)

The French word for "dandelion" is hard to forget once you know what it means. This word’s etymology reveals that is was thought to be a diuretic (something that makes you have to pee). “En” translates as “in”. And “lit” means “bed”. Put that together and I’m sure you can figure out the rest.

Bouillon/Bouillon
(came from boiling)

The word “bouillon” is spelled the same in English and French. It’s a borrowed word, meaning we adopted this French word into our language (which is common for culinary terms: e.g., sauté, hors d'oeuvre, sous-vide). "Bouillon" comes from the French verb “bouillir” which means “to boil”. And the suffix “-on” indicates the object's origin; this thing came from boiling. You've also probably seen this suffix in the word for ham “jambon”, where "jambe" means "leg".

Yeast/Levure
(that which will cause to rise)

The French word for yeast, “levure”, is by far the better name for the fungus that levens our bread because it invokes mystery and magic. “Levure” comes from the French verb “lever” which means “to rise”. The suffix “-ure” describes the resultant state produced by the rising action. In English, we just have "leavening agent", which lacks the simplicity and alchemical connotations of “levure”. The English word also falls short of the French version because it's a blanket term that refers not only to yeast but to chemical raising agents as well (e.g. baking soda).