Don’t know whether it’s “peek” or “peak”? Split the difference, like HP did in this email I received:
I don’t know where to begin. Sicily was a life-changing experience, thanks in large part to my dear friend Sally, who brings worlds together on a daily basis there. Still recovering from a bit of jet lag (though something about the Mediterranean sun and sea made it much easier to adjust than every before), but I thought I’d at least prime the pump for more posting with one of my favorite catches of the trip:
I promised; now I’ll deliver. Here it is once again, Nuvo:
As you know, I am a sucker for lavish misspellings, particularly French ones. I recently bought a globe at T.J. Maxx that featured the continent of “Norta America.” Now I need to stalk my local HomeGoods store (the non-clothing offshoot of T.J. Maxx with a positively awful name, IMHO) until this chef d’oeuvre is reduced from its original price:
I have no choice but to assume that these socks are uncomfortably itchy:
NO, IF YOU CHANGE THE SPELLING OF A GENERIC TERM IT DOES NOT ENABLE YOU TO CLAIM TRADEMARK RIGHTS. How many times have I said that in my 22-year career in trademark law?
BUT THERE’S MORE: If you are going to change the spelling in a misguided attempt at distinctiveness, could you try not to change it to a word that brings horror to the mind of mothers everywhere?
BONUS POINTS: Alaskan Nits? Made in North Carolina.
Help me out here:
It’s not a roux – that’s a flour and fat-based thickener for a sauce or soup. If they mean rouille – a garlicky, peppery sauce for bouillabaisse – maybe they need to go back to the old Larousse Gastronomique for some spelling help. (Rouille, by the way, means “rust,” hinting at the color of a good rouille.)
What I suspect, however, is that “roui” is merely an attempt to simplify the spelling to aid in the pronunciation of the word. This dumbing-down has the unfortunate effect of ripping the term away from its roots and meaning.
Worst of all, however, is the extremely unappealing photo of the so-called roui atop a tomato round, then perched atop a slice of melba toast that’s far too large for the tomato round. Hors d’oeuvre faux pas, to say the least!