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Here’s a treat that we always get on my Flavors of Little Levant ethnojunket in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. It’s “goulash,” a savory meat pie – crispy layers of phyllo dough on top, juicy perfectly seasoned beef beneath, and more phyllo on the bottom that has benefitted from soaking up those perfectly seasoned juices.

“Isn’t ‘goulash’ a sort of Hungarian stew?” I hear you cry.

“Yes, but this is Egyptian ‘goulash’. The two couldn’t be more different. There’s no connection.”

“Then why are they cognates?”

“They’re not cognates. It’s just a remarkable coincidence.”

“You’re trying to convince me that the Hungarian and Egyptian Arabic words ‘goulash’ and ‘goulash’ aren’t cognates? You expect me to believe that?”

“Well, if you insist on cleaving to that rationale, you might want to consider chewing over ‘galoshes’ then, also part of this linguistic conundrum. None of them are cognates.

“They’re cognots.”