As one who has a personal dislike towards turkey meat, I am not among the millions of Americans still savoring the flavor of Thanksgiving dinner. Would it be in poor taste then, if I were to bring to mind five Yiddish words for birds in addition to turkey, with whom few of us would have a bone to pick?
Hohn (rooster). Unlike hens, roosters are aggressively territorial and will fight to the death if one feels another is encroaching on its territory. Other than having one or two around for fertilizing eggs, roosters are simply not cost effective for modern day farmers. Back in the shtetl, however, roosters were commonplace. Because of this, our people were familiar with the following “Venn a shlimahzl koylet a hohn, geyt ehr. Venn a shlimazl drayt onn a zayger, shtayt ehr, When a shlimahzl slaughters a rooster, it continues to run. When a shlimahzl winds a watch, it ceases to run.”
Hoon (hen). Legend has it that it was Benjamin Franklin who realized “There are no gains without pains.” Had Benjamin Franklin been fluent in Yiddish, he would have mused “Onn bloot, kenn men a hoon nisht shechtn, no one can slaughter a hen without having any blood flow.” Benjamin Franklin, I’m not. It seems to me, however, that had Benjamin Franklin lived in the here and now, his remark would have been summarily dismissed, in that our current culture is averse to pain.
Hindl (chicken). For whatever reason, hindl never caught on with Yiddish speakers in America. Neither did hohn or hoon, for that matter. Instead, the word “chicken” was warmly welcomed by Yiddish speakers. Of note, Jews from certain parts of Lithuania could not incorporate the “ch” sound into their pronunciation. Accordingly, my paternal grandmother would always take the “tzicken” to the shoichet to be slaughtered. Ironically, the only time hindl was used by Yiddish speakers in this country was to describe someone upon whom blame was always placed. Borrowing from the practice undertaken prior to Yom Kippur, such a person was referred to as a kapporeh-hindl, scapegoat.
Kahtchkeh (duck). The word kahtchkeh is borrowed from Polish and Ukrainian. Kahtchkeh is the third most obtainable kosher bird, after chicken and turkey. Back in the shtetl, “Zee gayt kahtchkehvaht, she walks duck-like, viz. waddles, might well have been said in describing a woman in her final stages of pregnancy. Apparently, Americans were not the first to remark about the way a kahtchkeh walks on dry land.
Gahndz (goose). It was customary to feast on goose on the Shabbos that coincided with Chanukah. One of the reasons for doing so is that it enabled the bahlebohsteh (homemaker) to render the fat from the goose, better known as gehndzehneh shmaltz, to be used four months later for Passover cooking. If that meant going to the toil and trouble of kashering the kitchen as though one would for Passover, then so be it.
Indik (turkey). Indik is borrowed from the Polish and Ukrainian with the Russian “indyuk” sounding not all that different. While it probably has no scientific basis, it has been said that turkeys find it difficult to tolerate whistling. This gave rise to the Yiddish proverb “Oif frehmdeh indikehs iz goot tzoo fyfen, It is good to whistle at turkeys that don’t belong to you.”
Would you agree that feasting on hohn, hoon or hindl instead of turkey at a Thanksgiving dinner does not make one chicken-hearted? Would you concede that indulging in gahnz or kahtchkeh instead of turkey at a Thanksgiving dinner should not be taken as ducking out of tradition? Come the fourth Thursday of November, there are other birds of a different feather such as I, who look forward to sitting down to a steak dinner.
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.
