Since the pasty wars broke headline news in the UK last month, pasties have been on my mind, particularly their pronunciation. If you listen to these clips from The Spectator, you’ll hear pasty pronounced in the UK, specifically Cornwall, similar to what you’ll hear in the Upper Peninsula (UP) and as the image of the magnet above instructs: [pæsti]. The magnet is a good example of the commodification of a dialect feature, a bit of language that can be bought and sold. But, it’s not just any bit of language–it must be a recognizable feature, one that carries meaning. And pasty does just that: it signals local identity and local knowledge. If an individual knows what a pasty is, then most likely they know how to pronounce it, both reflecting local identity. In this way pasty is a shibboleth, much like sauna, which I wrote about in a previous post. As a shibboleth, pasty signals ‘local identity’ when speakers pronounce it “pass-tee” and signals ‘outsider’ when mispronounced. However, unlike sauna, which is a common word for most Americans and has two variant pronunciations, pasty is not a common word for many people and therefore the pronunciation is often based on analogies with more familiar and similarly spelled words: pastry and pastie.
If you’re not familiar with pasties, they are hand-held savory pies brought to the UP by Cornish miners who immigrated to the northwestern UP in the 1800s. The popularity of the pasty remains, so much so that it is known as a regional dish in Cornwall as well as in the UP. In the UP pasties are typically filled with beef or a beef and pork mixture, potatoes, onions, carrots, and rutabagas. My favorite pasties in the UP can be found at Toni’s Country Kitchen in Laurium. And downstate in Grand Rapids every Tuesday is pasty day at Marie Catrib’s, where you will find meat, veggie, and vegan pasties.