It’s been close to three and a half decades since movie audiences heard the fictitious Gabriel Krichinsky exclaim, “You cut the toikey (sic) without me?” in the Barry Levinson movie, “Avalon.” With more than a modicum of indignation, Gabriel and his wife stormed out of his brother’s Thanksgiving dinner. Because of Gabriel’s tardiness, the family, long seated at the table, could wait no longer and had begun their Thanksgiving repast without him and his wife. There’s a great deal that goes into preparing a Thanksgiving meal replete with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes and an assortment of pies. There is also a great deal that goes into carving out a guest list. Accordingly, I provide five different Yiddish terms for relatives who might be seated at the Thanksgiving table.
Machetonim (in-laws). My child’s father-in-law is my mechooten; my child’s mother-in-law is my machetaynisteh. The poet Itzik Manger collaborated with the musicologist Moisei Beregovsky to produce the song “Machetaynisteh My’neh” (“My In-Law”). The heartrending lyrics express hope for a harmonious relationship and beseech the nascent mother-in-law to overlook character flaws in her new daughter-in-law, as she would in her own daughter.
Fetter (uncle). “Uncle Max” was an uncle of our next-door neighbor, Raizie Jacobson. “Uncle Max,” as he was known to us, was a bachelor, well on in years. Being the dutiful niece, Raizie treated “Uncle Max” as though he were her own father. At least once a week, we would see his old Pontiac parked in their driveway as he joined Raizie, Joe, and the children for dinner. Had Canadians celebrated Thanksgiving in the same fashion as their neighbors to the south, Fetter Mendel (“Uncle Max”) most assuredly would have been at each Thanksgiving dinner.
Tanteh (aunt). Moomeh is also a most acceptable synonym. Moomeh, however, brings along baggage, in that moomeh also refers to the proprietress of a shahndhoiz (lit. a house of shame). Although I was taught the term moomeh, my ayniklech (grandchildren) refer to my daughter, their aunt, as tanteh. Recently, I came across a one-act Yiddish operetta published over a century ago. It was listed as a “military comedy.” Its title was “Dee Tanteh foon Chicago”(“The Aunt from Chicago”). With creativity and humor, they should have called the operetta “Dee Tanteh foon Oneonta.”
Shnoor (daughter-in-law). Shneer is also an acceptable pronunciation. Of interest, shnoor is also a homonym. It means rope or line. Long before I became a mechooten, I was given indispensable advice by a congregant: “Shower your shnoor with love and respect. It’s a sound investment, in that it is your shnoor who ultimately decides what kind of wife she will be to your son.” Unfortunately, it sometimes happens that we find “ah shvigger oon ah shnoor in ayn hoyz zynen vee tzvay ketz in ayn zahk” (a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law in one house are like two cats in a sack).
Aydem (son-in-law). If he treats your daughter well, your aydem is worth his weight in gold. If I had business acumen, I would market coffee mugs with Yiddish messages. One of them would read: Ahn Aydem bistu? Naches bistu! (You think that) you are a son-in-law? You are (pure) naches! Put differently, thanks for putting up with our daughter and the rest of us meshuggeners!
If you are hosting Thanksgiving dinner and you have invited the machetonim, introduce them as glahvneh (main, head) machetonim. If your fetter or tanteh are at the table, remind them that Thanksgiving dinner wouldn’t have the same ta’am (flavor) without them. Let your aydem lead in Birkat HaMazon and ask your shnoor to introduce the various foods that adorn the table. If, on the other hand, you are a guest at a Thanksgiving table and your hosts did not read this article and you are not receiving the respect you feel you deserve, swallow hard along with one of the dishes you found to be disappointing. After all, does it really matter who carves the ttoikey?
Rabbi Shawn Zell has recently returned to New Jersey, after serving at a pulpit in Dallas. He possesses certification in teaching Yiddish. Rabbi Zell is the author of three books.
