New England Just Can’t Get With the Rest of the World
Or: Why Ordering a Simple Drink Can Feel Like a Pop Quiz
The Goulash That Started It All
A few days ago, I mentioned the great Massachusetts goulash mystery — how my simple mix of hamburger, tomatoes, and macaroni somehow shares a name with a paprika-heavy Hungarian stew, a baked casserole, and something called American Chop Suey. After fifty years in New England, you’d think I’d have the naming conventions down.
But no. Because if there’s one thing New England loves, it’s doing things its own way. And that includes what we call everyday foods and drinks.
Tonic, Soda, Pop… and Now “Soft Drink”
Ask for a soda in most of the country and you’ll get a Coke, a Pepsi, or whatever fizzy thing you’re after.
Ask for a tonic in New England and you might get a raised eyebrow — unless you’re talking to someone over 60, in which case they’ll hand you a Pepsi without blinking.
Meanwhile, pop is strictly a Midwest thing. If you say “pop” in Massachusetts, people will assume you’re talking about your father, not your beverage.
And then there’s soft drink, the polite, slightly formal cousin that sounds like it belongs in a 1950s diner or a doctor’s office. Technically it means any non‑alcoholic carbonated drink, but around here it’s more of a background character than a star.
So the full New England beverage glossary now looks like this:
- Soda — the modern default
- Tonic — the old-school Massachusetts classic
- Soft drink — the formal, old-fashioned option
- Pop — something your father is called, not something you drink
A newcomer doesn’t stand a chance.
The Frappe vs. Milkshake Debate (Now Featuring Smoothies)
This one still gets me.
In most of the country, a milkshake has ice cream. Thick, creamy, slurp-it-through-a-straw-if-you’re-lucky ice cream.
In New England?
Nope.
- A milkshake is just flavored milk.
- A frappe (pronounced frap, not frap-pay) is what the rest of the world calls a milkshake — because it actually has ice cream in it.
- A smoothie is the healthy overachiever of the group — fruit, yogurt, ice, maybe spinach if you’re feeling virtuous. It sounds like it should be in the same category, but it absolutely is not.
So yes, you can order a chocolate milkshake here and get something the consistency of chocolate milk. And yes, it still surprises me.
The Grinder vs. Sub vs. Hoagie Situation
If you’re new to New England and someone offers you a grinder, don’t panic — it’s not a tool, it’s lunch.
- Grinder — New England
- Sub — Most of the U.S.
- Hoagie — Philadelphia
- Hero — New York
Same sandwich. Four names. Zero agreement.
Sneakers? Nope. We Wear “Tennis Shoes.”
Even if we haven’t touched a tennis court since the Nixon administration, New Englanders will still call all athletic shoes tennis shoes.
Running shoes, walking shoes, cross-trainers — doesn’t matter. They’re tennis shoes.
Rotaries, Not Roundabouts
Everywhere else: roundabout.
New England: rotary, and we drive through them like we’re trying to qualify for the Indy 500.
Tourists approach them with fear. Locals approach them with misplaced confidence. No one uses a blinker.
Wicked Good, Wicked Cold, Wicked Everything
“Wicked” is our universal intensifier.
- Wicked cold
- Wicked good
- Wicked fast
- Wicked expensive
It works for everything except actual wickedness.
Bubbler vs. Water Fountain
This one’s more Rhode Island and parts of Massachusetts, but it still counts.
A bubbler is a drinking fountain.
If you ask where the water fountain is, you’ll get directions.
If you ask where the bubbler is, you’ll get respect.
Jimmies vs. Sprinkles
Chocolate sprinkles?
In New England, they’re jimmies.
Rainbow sprinkles are still sprinkles, but chocolate ones get their own name. Why? No one knows. It just is.
Package Store vs. Liquor Store
If someone tells you they’re “running to the packie,” they’re not mailing a package — they’re buying wine.
A package store is a liquor store.
A packie run is a perfectly respectable Saturday errand.
Final Thoughts
New England is full of charm, contradictions, and linguistic curveballs. Whether it’s goulash that isn’t goulash, milkshakes that aren’t milkshakes, or rotaries that strike fear into the hearts of tourists, we like things the way we like them — even if the rest of the world disagrees.