Lately, the news has been saturated with stories from parts of Central Asia and the Middle East, and the only food we've heard talked about is leftover Halloween candy and Mountain Dew Code Red.
So in the name of journalistic diversity, I want to take this opportunity to toss things up a bit, to combine less-widely known international news with some all-American outdoor cooking, and write about something very close to all of our hearts: Shish kebabs and Namibia. Okay, maybe Namibia isn't close to your heart, but it is close to Botswana, and that's all you really need to know.
Kebabs are an extremely interesting combination of entrée and hand weaponry. They arose on the Turkish plains centuries ago, when hungry horsemen would "climb down from their horses, light large fires and skewer pieces of meat onto the ends of their swords to cook." (Then the bands of invaders would arrive with their Johnsonville brats wanting to use the horsemen's fires - an unfortunate complication for the Turks, who consistently found themselves at a distinct defensive disadvantage, since their swords were now covered with lamb and savory marinade.)
As far as kebab battle history goes, I don't want to refute the barbecue experts at www.about.com, but it has always been my belief that kebabs were invented by one plastered Las Vegas fireswallower bent on masochism as a result of a particularly bad turn of luck. With shish kebabs, he invented a way for the average person to burn their tongue AND impale their throat - all in the name of outdoor cooking!
Kebab guru Peggy Trowbridge of www.homecooking.com offers tips and hints for preparing your own lethal backyard barbecue favorite, gushing that, "It's so easy to make shish kebabs at home, it's a wonder it's not a mainstay." I believe that perhaps Peggy is overlooking a fundamental truth about kebabs: They may be easy to make, but they are virtually impossible to eat.
That's why I was flabbergasted when I picked up the trusty copy of the Guinness Book of Records by my computer (copyright 1994) and turned to the "Obscure Nations and their equally Obscure Culinary Practices" section. According to the Guinness book, "the longest kebab ever was 2066 ft., 11 in. and formed by the Namibian's Children's Home in Windhoek, Namibia."
I find this intriguing for several reasons. My primary one being: Why? My second one being: At what length is a kebab no longer considered "shish"? Some careful research on my part revealed that "shish" is an African unit of measurement, which, literally translated, means, "just long enough to impale your throat." Third, I have a suspicion that such a long kebab must have necessitated border settlements with South Africa and Botswana, which would explain the noteworthy Namibian presence at the U.N. Peace Summit in New York last year.
I am amazed that a person exists with a large enough mouth for such a Guinness-worthy feat. I mean, a regular old 8-inch kebab has always made me go into elaborate gyrations trying to get the pieces off until I finally give up and use a fork ... but if no one eats "the longest kebab ever," what happens? Do they pass it on to the Namibian Home for the Elderly to disassemble it?
My guess is that Namibia has these governmentally subsidized "homes," whose main mission is to create ridiculously large and entirely inedible food displays for Guinness. Namibia's president, or the secretary of ridiculous records, etc., probably has a "red phone" in his office with a direct connection to Guinness Headquarters.
So next time you find yourself at a throat-stabbing gala thinly disguised as a barbecue and the conniving host hands you an entree that (thanks to those pro-kebab lobbyist bastards on Capitol Hill) should be registered as an assault weapon, smile and take it. Grab a fork if you must, and thank your lucky stars that you aren't in Namibia.
Katie Petersen is an English and journalism sophomore. Reach her at
limerick132@hotmail.com.
