George Washington knew what he was doing.
Natalie Colarossi wrote in Business Insider that “he spent his entire campaign budget – a whopping 50 pounds – on 160 gallons of liquor in order to sway voters on election day.” Clearly, it worked.
Munching for votes is a tradition, although it doesn’t always work the way it was intended. Some stump foods tell a different story. For example, President Gerald Ford committed an unforgivable gaff in 1976, dubbed “The Great Tamale Incident.” Ford made a campaign stop in San Antonio, Texas to visit the Alamo. He was served tamales and bit right into one, not removing the corn husk.
Ford choked. Reporters said he didn’t know any better. Mike Huckabee (the future governor of Texas) told Sporkful, “To this day I am convinced that it was that gaffe with the tamale that cost him the state of Texas.” Ford lost Texas and the presidency.
Why are stump foods so important?
They “prove” authenticity – demonstrate that a politician is just like his or her constituents – a regular guy eating regular food.
Beware of mishaps.
Senator George McGovern stopped for a kosher hot dog in New York City during his presidential campaign. He ordered a glass of milk to go with it – a very (offensive) non-kosher move. Some reporters called it “career suicide.”
More recently, JD Vance, Donald Trump’s vice-presidential running mate made a stop at Holt’s Sweet Shop in Valdosta, Georgia. He was wearing a suit and tie.
Who wears a suit and tie to buy donuts?
“I’m JD Vance, and I’m running for vice president. It’s good to see you,” Vance said when he entered the shop. The worker, unimpressed, responded, “OK.”
Vance didn’t know what to say. He was awkward, ordering what he described as “a random assortment of stuff – a lot of glazed, sprinkle stuff, cinnamon rolls and whatever makes sense.”
In contrast, his opponent, Tim Walz, walked into Cherry Hill Orchards in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, wearing a tee-shirt, baseball cap, and a big smile. He chatted with the manager and employees and purchased a box of whoopie pies and apple cider donuts for the volunteers.
“Look at me,” Walz grinned, “I have no problem picking out donuts.”
I call it donut-gate.
Some politicians go overboard. Pete Buttigieg (now U.S. Secretary of Transportation) ate pork chops, BLT sandwiches, and fried Oreos at the politically-charged Iowa State Fair. His goal, according to Meghan McCarron in Eater, “was a blitz . . . to win over Iowa voters’ hearts through his stomach.”
How do you resist a guy who gnaws on grilled meat with a swig of chocolate milk or red-white-and-blue slushies?
Food has a special meaning. It’s essential to life – and politics – whatever your gender, race, age, ethnicity, or orientation. Author Jonathan Safran Foer observed, “Food is not rational. Food is culture, habit, craving and identity.”
Politicians know that.
Consider all the politicians who made the unforgivable mistake of eating pizza with a fork: Governor John Kasich, Donald Trump, and Sarah Palin. New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio, did it in 2014, earning the Twitter (X) hashtag, #forkgate.
The media joyfully broadcasted their blunders.
Politicians fight to appear genuine to voters. While they may disguise their policies in words, handshakes, and kissing babies, food is a different story. What they eat, where they go, and their choices may convince voters. Going to a popular local eatery, dropping in at a BBQ joint, or munching state fair food makes them look real.
Like you and me.
Today every campaign has a team devoted to finding restaurants and foods to munch with the voters. McCarron reported they look for “old-school, family-owned, and small-town [places] that serve regional specialties.” It’s all about who eats there, what they eat, and whether there is enough room for the cameras.
State Fairs are a bit different – particularly the Iowa State Fair that McCarron described as “arguably the most iconic food stop on the presidential primary circuit.” Elizabeth Warren walked through the fair holding a corn dog – but never took a bite. Andrew Yang greeted voters brandishing a half-eaten turkey leg.
Stump foods are symbolic, implying an understanding deeper than words and campaign promises. Think of Trump holding a knife and fork over a bucket of (KFC) Kentucky Fried Chicken. Or serving a White House celebration dinner of fast food burgers and fries to the Clemson Tigers, national football champions.
In contrast, Vice President Kamala Harris is known as a foodie and a cook. She grilled chops at the Iowa State Fair and had Durham BBQ restaurant owner, Mike De Los Santos, introduce her at a Raleigh, NC Campaign rally. She was making a pancake-and-bacon breakfast for her young nieces when Joe Biden called to tell her he was dropping out of the race.
Harris made headlines when she taught Senator Mike Warner how to make a perfect tuna melt.
Bettina Makalintal reported in Eater, Kamala “does what every politician hopes to do with food: it makes Harris seem real, down to earth, and relatively normal. In this political landscape, that’s refreshing.”
Who do you think will munch their way to win the next election?
