Is anyone in our country not political? Is any one THING not political? Even food?

When a neighbor recently observed me drinking from a McDonald’s fountain cup, he pointed and chirped, “See? You DO have something in common with Trump!” I understood instantly he was indicating that the former President and I at least share an affection for the Double Arches.

That makes a certain amount of sense. Pretty much the only thing I’ve ever admired about Trump was when he welcomed the Clemson national championship football team to the White House and served them a bountiful buffet of choice of franchise hamburgers. Well played, former Commander-in-Chief!

It occurred to me: Why don’t we know more about the dietary habits of our presidents? I’m no Doris Kearns Goodwin or Ron Chernow, but I’m sufficiently interested in our history to have, for example, written an entire graphic novel about Gerald Ford – and yet I couldn’t tell you what Jerry liked to eat!

I do know that Ronald Reagan loved jellybeans, and that Herbert Hoover foamed at the mouth over the prospect of sweet potatoes with marshmallows. I credit my aversion to both these dishes as the reason I remember these details. We’re supposed to trust a man to run our republic if he’s fueled by jellybeans?

“Mr. Gorbachev, pass the jellybeans! And then tear down that wall!”

Or marshmallows and sweet potatoes?

“Fellow Americans, do NOT worry,” Hoover intoned on October 24, 1929. “I interrupt my meal of marshmallows and sweet potatoes to tell you that the crash on Wall Street yesterday was nothing more than a one-time oddity and I personally have crafted policy to correct it immediately! There will be no Great Depression — which is what we’d probably call a protracted financial catastrophe if it happened. But it won’t.”

Happy to follow up on this concept, I found several examples of Presidents and their preferred foods that amuse me.

William Henry Harrison — Squirrel stew. Inasmuch as Harrison died after only 31 days in office, I nonetheless like to imagine he ate squirrel stew at least 27 of those days. History tells us the president was really sick when he passed. Draw your own conclusions.

Chester A. Arthur — Turtle steak. I’ve seen the creepy photos. I didn’t know turtles could be that large. Plus, remember Chester A. Arthur’s sideburns/beard? Dude looked like a spokesman for Halloween-themed chainsaw commercials! I like to think of this president as ripping the starter cord on his ’saw and announcing to the White House kitchen staff, “Stand back! I’M carving that tortoise!”

James Garfield — Squirrel soup. Nope. I’m not kidding. TWO presidential squirrel aficionados.

Martin Van Buren — Boar’s head. Not the deli brand, which presumably hadn’t been founded yet, but the literal, severed HEAD of a boar. Wish I’d been at THAT state dinner. “Save an eye and a nostril for me, Marty!”

(By the way, despite the Boar’s Head company’s very fine products, it would be fun to know which ad agency smooth-talker was assigned with convincing the CEO that naming the deli meat company after a guillotined hog head presented a mouth-watering impression.)

As for the present, if I understand correctly, President Biden enjoys vanilla ice cream. Let the blandness jokes pour forth!