Am I telling the truth? Go on, have a guess!
Does anyone remember the now-defunct, eccentric Colonel Gaddafi, claim in the Eighties that Shakespeare was actually an Arab poet who went by the original name of “Sheik El Zubeir”?
Was he really being serious at the time? After all, there are many instances in which expressions and stories have travelled great distances to end up being distorted and assimilated into local folklore.
For example, everyone knows that the Chess term “Checkmate” comes from the Arab/Persian “Sheikh matt…” which literally means “The leader/Elder has died…”
With a little bit of twist, one can prove anything these days, when it comes to the true origins of peoples, words or things.
And this is where Algerian Haggis comes in!
Do not snigger, because there is a region in Northern Algeria where the main musical instrument is the bagpipes. This is a true fact! And one Algerian delicacy is Osbana, which, like Haggis, uses the same parts of the sheep and those are, in no particular order, lung, liver, heart and stomach. Where Osbana shines and Haggis fades away is in the taste. Cumin, coriander and chilli are the main spices that give Osbana its superior exotic flavour. Fried onion and garlic are mixed with the finely chopped lung, liver, heart and spices. Once cooled down, the mix is bound together with breadcrumbs and egg and then stuffed into a purse made with the thoroughly cleaned tripe.
A final expert stitch will ensure that the contents remain inside during cooking. This round ball is ceremoniously placed into a deep pot then slowly poached in a delicious sauce made using the same spices with the subtle addition of a little tomato. Two hours of gentle and loving simmering turn the seemingly unappetising guck into a delicacy fit for kings.
The legend is that my great-great-grandfather once met a ginger-haired travelling troubadour with a funny habit of rolling his r’s. He wore a thick Tartan skirt adorned with a hairy pouch that protected his crotch and a funny hat with a pompom on top. He happened to be cruising the Mediterranean in search of inspiration.
True to his legendary Algerian hospitality, my ancestor invited the bard for lunch and, as it happened to be a festival, Osbana was on the “Menu du Jour”.
The foreign fellow who, according to the legend, went by the name of Rabbi Barnes, was so delighted with the meal that he begged his host for the recipe. It was duly translated, almost word for word, except that, for copyright purposes, the spices were cunningly missed out.
The bard tried his best to coax my great-great-grandfather to share the spicy secret, but he mischievously replied: “Have a guess!”
Once back home in Bonny Scotland, this Rabbi Barnes turned out to be none other than Robbie Burns, the great Scottish poet.
He invited the local gentry to taste his find, and when questioned as to the origin of the dish, its name and ingredients, he simply replied: “Have a guess!” which, when spoken fast, in his Scottish mother tongue sounded like “haggis”!
Try it yourselves, and you’ll see it does ring true! ”Ha’ a guess”…”Haggis”…
And that’s why, tongue in cheek, I can positively say, without reserve that, Haggis may well have originated in Algeria.
After all, if Gaddafi can pinch Shakespeare from the English, what harm could I cause by borrowing a little Haggis from the Scots?
My intention is not to denigrate Haggis, which I genuinely love. I am merely trying to show that, using valid-sounding arguments, any TRIPE can be turned into virtual reality!
I rest my case!