9 Things Ohioans Do Wrong, According to Everyone Else

A new coworker from Boston moves to Columbus and starts keeping a list.

Every few days, someone says a word or orders a dish that stops them cold.

By spring, that list runs long.

These are the things the rest of the country says that Ohioans do wrong. Ohioans understandably feel that it’s everyone else who does them wrong.

Cincinnati Chili on Spaghetti

Nothing rattles a first-time visitor to Ohio faster than a Cincinnati chili parlor.

Cincinnati chili comes out thin and spiced, closer to a cinnamon-tinged meat sauce than a Texas bowl of red.

Then it goes on spaghetti.

Order a three-way at Skyline or Gold Star, and you get noodles, that chili, and a tall pile of shredded cheddar.

Ask for a four-way, and you add onions or beans; a five-way stacks on both.

Skyline opened in Cincinnati back in 1949, started by a Greek immigrant who worked his family’s spices into the pot.

Outsiders see spaghetti under chili and lose their minds.

Buckeyes just grab more oyster crackers.

Every time.

Calling Every Soda Pop

Ohioans don’t order a soda, and they won’t call it a coke either.

A soft drink is pop.

Fountain pop at the diner, a two-liter of pop on the counter, a cold can of pop from the garage fridge.

Ask for a pop at a Bengals tailgate or a Dayton drive-thru, and nobody blinks.

Say the same word in Atlanta or Dallas, and you’ll get a blank look.

Linguists have mapped this split for decades, and Ohio sits right in the heart of pop country.

The pop belt runs clear across the Great Lakes, from Ohio to Michigan to Minnesota.

Pop it is.

Buckeye Candy by the Tin

Come December, Ohio kitchens fill up with buckeyes.

Not the tree nut, and not the football team.

The candy.

A buckeye is a ball of peanut butter fudge dipped in chocolate, with a circle left bare on top so it mimics the nut of the state tree.

The Ohio buckeye is the official state tree, and that glossy brown nut is the shape everyone copies in the kitchen.

Families roll them by the dozen for holidays, Ohio State tailgates, and the cookie tables at weddings.

People from other states meet a buckeye and want to know why the chocolate never covers the whole thing.

That bald spot is the entire point.

Saying Warsh for Wash

Plenty of Ohioans warsh the dishes and warsh the car on a Saturday.

There’s no r in wash.

Try telling them that.

That extra r turns up across a stretch of the Midland dialect, and you’ll catch it most from older Ohioans and folks with roots downstate.

Whole pockets of the Ohio Valley say Washington as Warshington without a second thought.

Warshington. A warsh rag. A load of warsh on the line.

Transplants hear a letter that isn’t there and can’t let it go.

Warsh on.

Taking Cornhole Seriously

Set up two boards at an Ohio cookout, and the bean bags come out before the burgers hit the grill.

Cornhole runs deep here.

The American Cornhole Association got its start in 2003 on Cincinnati’s West Side, and the city still calls itself the capital of the game.

Ohioans keep score by the official rules, argue about bag weight, and drill their four-baggers in the driveway.

Visitors think it’s a casual toss on the lawn.

Big mistake.

Goetta at Breakfast

Breakfast around Cincinnati comes with a side that stumps almost every outsider.

Goetta.

German immigrants brought the idea south along the Ohio River, mixing ground pork with steel-cut oats to stretch the meat across more meals.

You slice it, fry it crisp, and set it next to your eggs.

Glier’s alone sells more than a million pounds of goetta a year, and the company says most of it never leaves Greater Cincinnati.

Locals eat goetta plain, tucked in a sandwich, or crumbled over just about anything.

Order goetta in Phoenix, and you’ll get a blank stare.

Cincinnatians line up for it every August at Goettafest.

Friday Night Football

Come fall, Ohio towns plan the whole week around Friday night football.

High school football, long before anyone gets to the Buckeyes or the Browns.

Places like Massillon and Canton fill big stadiums under the lights, and the whole town shows up.

It fits, since Canton is home to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

That same hall has even put the history of Ohio high school football on display.

Outsiders can’t believe a Friday game pulls that kind of crowd.

Every town.

To Buckeyes, it’s just autumn.

Hating That State up North

In Ohio, you don’t have to name Michigan to insult it.

You say “that state up north.”

Ohio State and Michigan first met on the football field in 1897, and their November game grew into one of the most heated rivalries in the country.

The two schools have squared off more than a hundred times since.

Former Ohio State coach Woody Hayes wouldn’t even say the word Michigan, and as the story goes, he refused to buy gas across the border.

Beat that state up north, and the whole state of Ohio exhales.

Every fall.

Ohio Against the World

Ohioans carry a chip on their shoulder, and they’ve turned it into a slogan.

“Ohio against the world.”

The phrase caught on with Ohio State fans, then spread onto shirts, hats, and tailgates all over the state.

That pride runs local, too.

Toledo folks rep the 419, the code that blankets the whole northwest corner of Ohio.

Columbus claims the 614 so hard the city throws a party every June 14.

Say it louder.

Outsiders roll their eyes at a state this loud about itself.

Buckeyes just print another shirt.