Opeohp
The little sound you make when you bump into someone, drop something or need to squeeze past. Said before you even know you’ve said it.
“Ope, just gonna sneak right past ya.”
Everyday talkThe words, the food, the weather talk and the polite code of the North Star State, explained in plain English. Learn them, then take the quiz.
The little sound you make when you bump into someone, drop something or need to squeeze past.
See it in the glossary →From the grocery store to the church basement to the frozen lake. Search for a word or pick a topic.
The little sound you make when you bump into someone, drop something or need to squeeze past. Said before you even know you’ve said it.
“Ope, just gonna sneak right past ya.”
Everyday talkA Norwegian-rooted cry of surprise, dismay or exhaustion. Covers everything from a dropped casserole to a long day of shoveling.
“Uff da, that’s a lot of snow.”
Everyday talkYes, absolutely. Also works as “you’re welcome” and “no problem.”
“Can you bring bars Sunday?” “You betcha.”
Everyday talk“Oh, for” plus an adjective means “how very ___!” Also heard as “oh, for fun” and “oh, for cheap.”
“Oh, for cute, look at his little snow boots.”
Everyday talkCome along. The “us” at the end is optional, and most people skip it.
“We’re running to Target. Wanna come with?”
Everyday talkA clean, cheerful way to say you’re amazed. Good for church, work and grandmas.
“Holy buckets, did you see the size of that walleye?”
Everyday talk“That’s gross.” Said with a little shudder about slimy, soggy or sticky things.
“Ish, the lake’s all weedy by the dock.”
Everyday talkThe all-purpose listening noise, with a long O. “Oh, yah?” means tell me more. “Oh, yah.” means I agree completely.
“Supposed to snow.” “Oh, yah?” “Yah.” “Oh, yah.”
Everyday talkA tag at the end of a sentence for emphasis. These days you hear it more in jokes about Minnesotans than from Minnesotans.
“Cold one out there, dontcha know.”
Everyday talkWinter small talk for the mailbox, the gas pump and the elevator. There is only one right answer.
“Cold enough for ya?” “Yah, you bet.”
Everyday talkExpensive. A polite way to say you won’t be buying it.
“That cabin rental’s kinda spendy.”
Everyday talkAny fizzy soft drink. Not soda, and definitely not “coke” for every flavor.
“There’s pop in the garage fridge.”
Everyday talkThe long goodbye. It starts with “well, we should get going,” moves to the front door, then the driveway and ends about 45 minutes later.
“Leave at 8? With a Minnesota goodbye, we’ll be home by 10.”
Everyday talkFriendly, polite and allergic to conflict. They’ll jump your dead battery in a parking lot at 6 a.m., but they won’t tell you they hate your couch. See the decoder below.
“Is she mad?” “Hard to say. She’s Minnesota Nice.”
Everyday talkMinnesota’s version of duck, duck, goose. The tapper names colors (“red duck, blue duck…”) and “gray duck” starts the chase.
“Goose? It’s gray duck. Everybody knows that.”
Everyday talkA casserole, the Minnesota way: a starch, a protein, a vegetable and a can of cream-of-something soup, baked in a 9×13 pan. Tater tot hotdish is the classic.
“Just bring a hotdish. Any hotdish.”
FoodDessert baked in a 9×13 pan and cut into squares: lemon bars, Special K bars, Scotcheroos. No potluck is complete without them.
“Is it even a funeral if nobody brought bars?”
FoodRice Krispies bars made with peanut butter and topped with melted chocolate and butterscotch chips. Dangerous to leave on the counter.
“Hide the Scotcheroos before the cousins get here.”
FoodA “salad” that is mostly Jell-O or Cool Whip, sometimes with fruit, pretzels or chopped-up candy bars. Served next to the actual salad.
“Grandma’s green Jell-O salad has a little bit of everything in it.”
FoodDried cod soaked in lye, rinsed for days, then cooked until it shimmers. Served with butter or white sauce at church suppers in fall and winter. People love it or joke about it.
“I go to the lutefisk supper for the meatballs.”
FoodSoft Norwegian potato flatbread, rolled thin and cooked on a griddle. Spread it with butter, sprinkle on sugar, roll it up.
“Grandpa can make lefse so thin you can read through it.”
FoodA burger with the cheese sealed inside the patty. Two south Minneapolis bars both say they invented it. Wait before the first bite: the cheese comes out molten.
“Let it rest a minute, or that Lucy’ll get ya.”
FoodNot really rice: the seed of a water grass. The Ojibwe call it manoomin, the “good berry,” a sacred food that ricers still harvest by canoe each fall, knocking the grain loose with cedar sticks. It’s also the state grain.
“Is that wild rice soup? Then I’ll have two bowls.”
FoodThe state fish, and the one everybody wants on the line. Fried in a sandwich, on a stick or cooked over a campfire for shore lunch.
“Caught my limit of walleye before the bugs came out.”
FoodChex cereal coated in melted chocolate and peanut butter, then shaken in a bag of powdered sugar. People food, not dog food. Some people call it muddy buddies.
“Who ate all the puppy chow? There’s sugar on your shirt.”
FoodYes, the noon meal. But also the sandwiches, bars and coffee set out after a funeral, a church event or an evening card game, at any hour.
“A lunch will be served following the service.”
FoodThe evening meal. On the farm, “dinner” can mean the big meal at noon.
“Supper’s at 5:30. Don’t be late, the hotdish won’t wait.”
FoodChurch-basement coffee: a raw egg is stirred into the grounds before boiling, which makes the coffee clear and smooth. A Scandinavian Lutheran tradition.
“The egg coffee’s ready. Grab a cup and a bar.”
FoodA thick stew of meat and vegetables, cooked for hours in giant kettles over a fire and sold by the quart at fundraisers, especially around St. Paul. Wisconsin spells it booyah and claims it too. We share.
“The firemen’s booya sells out by noon.”
FoodThe State Fair’s hot dog dipped in pancake batter and deep-fried. It is not a corn dog, and the people in line will tell you so.
“Two Pronto Pups, extra mustard.”
FoodAnywhere north of the Twin Cities with a lake, some pine trees and, ideally, a cabin. Not a place on a map so much as a state of mind.
“We’re heading up north for the weekend.”
Weather & outdoorsGoing to the lake means going to the cabin, even though there are thousands of lakes and everyone means a different one.
“Can’t make it Saturday, we’re at the lake.”
Weather & outdoorsThe Saturday in May when walleye season opens, usually the day before Mother’s Day. A holiday in everything but name.
“Happy early Mother’s Day! See you after the opener.”
Weather & outdoorsA shack you drag onto a frozen lake to fish through a hole in the ice. Some are a bucket and a heater; some have bunks and a TV. Also called a fish house.
“The ice house has a TV now. We may never come home.”
Weather & outdoorsThe spring day a lake’s ice finally melts away. People keep records of it and bet on it.
“Ice out was late this year. I lost the pool by a week.”
Weather & outdoorsWhen the city calls one, you move your car where the signs say, so the plows can clear the street, or it gets towed.
“Snow emergency tonight. Even side or odd side?”
Weather & outdoorsThe cord hanging out of a car’s grille. It powers a block heater that keeps the engine warm enough to start on a 20-below morning.
“Plug in the car tonight, it’s supposed to hit 20 below.”
Weather & outdoorsLeather mittens with wool liners. Not stylish, but they beat any gloves at 10 below.
“Take your choppers, you’ll be out on the ice all day.”
Weather & outdoorsA knit winter hat. Elsewhere it’s a beanie or a toque; here it’s a stocking cap, often with a pom-pom.
“Put your stocking cap on, you’ll catch your death.”
Weather & outdoorsSledding. You go sliding down a hill on a sled, a saucer or a cafeteria tray if you have to.
“School’s closed. Who wants to go sliding?”
Weather & outdoorsThe joke answer is the mosquito. The real one is the common loon, whose wavering call across a quiet lake at dusk is the sound of summer.
“Was that the state bird?” “The loon or the one on your arm?”
Weather & outdoorsThe old joke: Minnesota has two seasons, winter and road construction. Some years they overlap.
“Is 94 still down to one lane?” “It’s construction season, so yah.”
Weather & outdoorsThe license-plate brag is modest. Counting lakes of 10 acres or more, Minnesota has 11,842.
“Ten thousand lakes? We’re underselling ourselves again.”
Weather & outdoorsThe heated shack beside an outdoor rink, where you lace up your skates and thaw your toes between laps.
“Ten more minutes of skating, then the warming house.”
Weather & outdoorsAbout a million acres of lakes and forest along the Canadian border, explored by canoe. Most lakes allow no motors, and you carry the canoe between them.
“We’re doing the Boundary Waters in August. No phones, just portages.”
Weather & outdoorsMinneapolis, St. Paul and their suburbs, as said by anyone from anywhere else in the state.
“We drove down to the Cities for a Twins game.”
Around townEnclosed bridges that link downtown buildings one floor up. In Minneapolis and St. Paul you can run errands all winter without a coat.
“Take the skyway, it’s 5 below out there.”
Around townThe Minnesota State Fair: 12 days of food, animals, rides and people-watching that end on Labor Day.
“See you at the Great Minnesota Get-Together. Meet by the giant slide.”
Around townThe State Fair’s favorite way to serve anything: corn dogs, pork chops, pickles, candy bars and plenty more.
“I had four things on a stick before noon.”
Around townPictures made of Minnesota-grown seeds, glued down by hand and shown at the State Fair. Portraits, puns and pop-culture nods.
“That crop art took her 300 hours. Look at the eyelashes.”
Around townEvery year at the fair, Princess Kay of the Milky Way and her court each have their head carved from a 90-pound block of butter, in a spinning refrigerated booth.
“What happens to the butter heads?” “They take them home.”
Around townA one-story house, usually with an attached garage and a basement rec room.
“It’s the tan rambler with the boat in the driveway.”
Around townYou take 494 to 169. Saying “the 494” is a sure sign you moved here from somewhere sunny.
“Take 35W north, then hop on 694.”
Around townWhen a lane closes and traffic backs up, use both lanes up to the merge point, then take turns. The state asks drivers to do it, and polite Minnesotans still merge a mile early.
“It’s a zipper merge. Being nice is slowing us down.”
Around townVikings fans’ rallying cry. At home games the stadium does the Skol chant: a booming drum, arms overhead, then a clap and a shout of “Skol!”, faster and faster.
“Skol! This is the year.” (We say that every year.)
Around townA bar fundraiser where you buy a ticket, watch the paddle wheel spin and maybe win pork chops. Very real, very popular.
“Won a ham at the meat raffle. Supper’s handled.”
Around townA June open house for a high school graduate, usually in the garage, with ham sandwiches, bars and a photo board. Plan to hit four in one afternoon.
“Four grad parties Sunday. Pace yourself on the bars.”
Around townNortheast Minneapolis, said the old-neighborhood way. Breweries, art studios and Eastern European delis.
“Meet me in Nordeast after work.”
Around townNo match. Maybe that’s a Wisconsin word.
Minnesotans rarely say no, complain or brag outright. Here’s how to read between the lines.
“That’s different.”
I don’t like it.
“Interesting.”
I really don’t like it.
“I’ll think about it.”
No.
“We should get together sometime.”
That was nice. See you at the State Fair, by accident.
“Not too bad.”
It’s great.
“Could be worse.”
It’s pretty bad.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
Thank you, I love it.
“Well, I’ll let you go.”
I’m done talking now.
“Well, I s’pose…”
I’ll have my coat on in 20 minutes.
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
Offer once more and I will.
“It’s a little chilly.”
It’s 20 below.
“It’s a bit of a drive.”
Three hours, each way.
“No, no, I’m fine.”
I am not fine.
“Whatever works for you.”
I have a strong opinion and you’ll have to guess it.
Dakota, Ojibwe and French roots give Minnesota some of the trickiest town and lake names in the country. The stressed part is in capitals.
min-uh-SOH-tuh
Hold that O a little longer than feels normal.
why-ZET-uh
City on Lake Minnetonka. Never “way-ZAH-tuh.”
ee-DY-nuh
Suburb just southwest of Minneapolis.
SHAHK-uh-pee
Named for the Dakota chief Shakpe. Home of Valleyfair.
mah-toh-MEE-dye
On the southeast shore of White Bear Lake.
FAIR-boh
Southern Minnesota city known for its woolen mill.
kloh-KAY
Paper-mill town about 20 miles southwest of Duluth.
luh-SOOR
Minnesota River town where the Green Giant got his start.
lak-kee-PAR-uhl
Western county and lake. French for “lake that speaks.”
oh-wuh-TAH-nuh
Steele County seat, off I-35.
man-KAY-toh
College town on the Minnesota River. From the Dakota for “blue earth.”
uh-NOH-kuh
Calls itself the Halloween Capital of the World.
WAH-buh-shaw
Mississippi River town with the National Eagle Center.
kan-dee-YOH-hy
County around Willmar, full of lakes.
mil LAKS
Big walleye lake, and home of the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe.
EE-lee
Gateway to the Boundary Waters canoe country.
by-WAH-bik
Iron Range town near Giants Ridge.
buh-DAY mah-KAH skah
Minneapolis lake. Dakota for “White Earth Lake.”
win-uh-buh-GAH-shish
Big northern lake. Everyone just says Lake Winnie.
PEE-kwaht
Brainerd lakes town with a water tower painted like a fishing bobber.
buh-MID-jee
Northern lake town with the giant Paul Bunyan and Babe statues.
noo PRAYG
Czech-heritage town southwest of the Cities. Not “prahg.”
NIK-oh-let
The Minneapolis avenue and mall, and a county too.
Twelve questions about manners, food, weather and words. Pick the answer that sounds most like you.