There's A Reason We've All Been Pronouncing Bologna Wrong

Chances are, if you live in the United States, you pronounce "bologna" not as how it's spelled ("bo-lo-nya"), but as a new word entirely — baloney (or "ba-lo-nee"). Unless, of course, you're from Pittsburgh and grew up referring to this cold cut delicacy as "jumbo," or, if you were fancy, "ba-lo-nah." But why has the etymology of a classic lunch meat taken flight in this way? Where did all of these pronunciations come from? In short: What is this baloney?

There are a few ideas as to why Americans started saying "baloney" instead of "bologna," but the most widely adopted theory among linguists such as Ben Zimmer is that it was anglicized much like many other Italian words (think "Italia" changing to "Italy," for example). The earliest references to "baloney" appear in the mid-1800s, such as in a burlesque sermon written by William H. Levison in 1857 and the vaudeville song "I Ate the Baloney," which dates back to the 1870s. 

It's also commonly thought that, because bologna earned an early reputation as being a "mystery meat" (though it has always been made largely with just pork or beef), baloney started to become a word to describe something that was "rubbish" or "garbage." And, in the early 1930s, New York Governor Alfred (Al) E. Smith, along with popular Variety writer Jack "Con" Conway, both took to using the pronunciation, its new meaning, and subsequent phrases so much that they are credited with making its use so popular.

Bologna, as one could guess, originates from the city Bologna in north-central Italy, which is also the part of the world responsible for mortadello, bologna's predecessor. While mortadella is a thicker and zestier sausage made with bits of peppercorn and olives, bologna is considered a cured meat and is commonly made of pork (though it can be made of beef, turkey, or chicken, too) that is finely ground and stuffed into a casing, which is later removed. It's not spicy, but is typically seasoned with pepper, coriander, and garlic. 

Now, let's discuss a few facts you probably don't know about bologna. It is widely accepted that the iconic cured meat made its way to the United States by way of Italian immigrants, but bologna's path to American sandwiches is less clear. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, the way bologna was made evolved and changed due to factors such as meat scarcity and the need for affordability during the Great Depression, as well as the technological advancement of mass production and the inventions of meat and bread slicers. 

Enter: Oscar Mayer. In the 1920s, Oscar Mayer introduced the concept of pre-packaged and pre-sliced bologna on a wider scale. This mass production led bologna to be quickly adopted as not just a lunchtime staple (think classic Southern fried bologna sandwiches), but a trustworthy dinner ingredient as well. In other words, Americans were full of baloney.

About 50 years after Oscar Mayer began its bologna endeavors, it released the popular "My Bologna Has a First Name" jingle in 1973. As British TikToker Luke Colson recently ranted, the now infamous and classic Oscar Mayer commercial is a major culprit in why Americans not only pronounce bologna as "ba-lo-nee," but also occasionally "ba-lo-nah" (without the "nya"). The commercial (via haikarate4 on YouTube) features a small child sitting in the grass singing the iconic song, which starts with the line "My baloney has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R..."

In addition to the child spelling "B-O-L-O-G-N-A" — yes, pronouncing it "ba-lo-nee" — the narration at the end says "ba-lo-nah." While some were influenced to adopt this somewhat simpler pronunciation, others were exposed to a completely different type of branding, creating yet another word for bologna. The dairy, deli, and restaurant chain known as Isaly's had several storefronts throughout Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia in the 1920s through the 1970s. 

While the company is best known for inventing the Klondike Bar, it also had some specifics when it came to its deli, including "chip-chopping" its ham into uniquely fine pieces to pile on top of sandwiches, and billing its bologna as "jumbo." Shaped by the melting pot of accents in the late 1800s and early 1900s, the influence of popular politicians and writers, and the power of advertising and branding, it's no wonder that Americans pronounce "bologna" without the "nya." And we wouldn't have it any other way.