When it comes to fatal bites, Snow White and the poison apple take a close second to Ed Miliband and his infamous bacon sandwich. In 2014, when the former Labour leader decided to treat himself to breakfast, he effectively called time on his political career. Who knew the humble bacon bap was the great leveller of the modern era?
Eating in public is part of the time-honoured tradition of politicians trying, and rather often failing, to prove they are just like us. From Theresa May’s meme-worthy dancing at the Tory party conference, to Boris Johnson getting stuck on a zip wire to celebrate the first day of the 2012 Olympics, it seems that politicians may indeed be just like us, but with an eagerly waiting press unit to capture their every cock-up for the sake of posterity.
The attempts of the political great and good to grab a convenient bite and a shameless publicity shot serves to unite us in ways they perhaps did not anticipate. Our national policy of ruthlessly taking the piss will bring us together more than politics ever will. Politicians biting off more than they can chew, in a more literal sense than at PMQs, will always provide fodder for newspapers, comedians, and the general public alike. One hopes that the following examples serve to provide food for thought for future MPs who consider uniting picnics with press shots.
The Independent’s 2015 headline “David Cameron eats hotdogs with a knife and fork” feels more like a playground taunt than a piece of hard-hitting journalism. Yet there are elements of nuance to the paper’s analysis which elevates it from a simple case of out and out bullying. While it is possible the former PM had hoped to be able to dine undisturbed at a family barbecue, the press photographers and political journalists who had been invited to join tell a very different story. His decision to eat a BBQ staple with a knife and fork, allowed Twitter to provide an entirely novel take on the “Eton-educated lineal descendant of King William IV”, referring to him as “posh”. It seems that his barbeque exploits prove that Cameron’s relationship with pigs is turbulent at the very best of times.
While Cameron’s choice to use silverware at a barbeque is markedly odd, there are other politicians whose consumption patterns are in fact rather more nightmarish. At the turn of the millennium, former first minister, Alex Salmond, found himself campaigning on an unexpectedly hot Scottish summer’s day. The tale goes, he and his canvassing team shunned the more conventional Scottish treat of a deep-fried Mars bar, and instead plumped for a pack of Soleros, courtesy of Salmond himself. Kate Adamson, then 17, had visited Stirling University, for “something to do” and thus the infamous Solero photograph was born.
According to Adamson: “When the picture was published in The Sunday Herald, they had a thought bubble over Alex Salmond’s head saying ‘there’s another sucker for a vote’
“At the time I thought it was amusing as I couldn’t even vote… It was definitely a lesson for me in trusting the integrity of the media and not believing everything you read or see online or in the papers.
“It taught me how news can often be manipulated.”
While she remains unphased by the popularity of the photograph, which has gained something of a cult following 20 years later, Adamson did voice her disappointment as to the way it had received some “misogynistic, sexist and aggressive” comments.
In an interview with Buzzfeed, Salmond reminisced over the encounter – "I remember that Mrs Salmond wasn't best pleased - I tried to hide those newspapers." According to Salmond, it was "one of three bad photos" ever taken of him, though he neglected to mention the remaining two.
While the Solero incident did not do as much damage to Salmond’s political career as it perhaps ought, the Mili-bap photograph of 2014, according to HuffPost, was a “visual catch-all to represent an argument that Miliband was too geeky, too intellectual, too stuffy to relate to the working people of Britain and consequently to be prime minister.”
Jeremy Selwyn, who caught the money shot, explained his decision to take the photograph. “As soon as anybody famous starts to eat in front of you, as a photographer you start switching on immediately,” he said. “It’s obvious that it’s not your glamour shot.” In total, Selwyn caught 15 photographs of Miliband’s awkward moment. By the time his advisers extracted the sandwich from his grip, the damage was done.
Selwyn defends his decision to capture the moment, stating that: “Whether or not that was fair, that’s not really for me to comment on. I would’ve taken the same picture had it been a member of any other political party in this country. For me, it’s just a matter of recording what was going on in front of me.” It was, after all, not up to him to save Miliband’s bacon.
The political editor for the Standard, Joe Murphy, offered perhaps the best explanation of the crucial moment, writing that: “Mr. Miliband’s battle to consume the greasy treat alarmed his media minders, who tried to stop photographers taking close-ups of butter oozing between his teeth.” In a later interview, Murphy said that the photograph: “crystallized something that was already there, but people hadn’t found the words or the reason to vote against him.” Miliband’s face was plastered across The Sun just before the 2015 general election. Unfortunately, so was ketchup.
Miliband is not alone in his cringe-worthy consumption. Theresa May’s 2017 trip to the seaside is something which one can be sure serves to haunt her advisers to this day. May, who had taken a campaign trip to Mevagissey, was surrounded by photographers and seagulls alike, all competing for a shot. During her time as prime minister, May received extensive criticism for seeming robotic and awkward, notably on Peston on Sunday and the Andrew Marr Show, and her chip incident did little to disavow the nation of this notion. However, it is entirely likely that May’s apparent displeasure at her snack was in fact due to her type 1 diabetes and the surprise carbohydrate.
Our almost fanatical obsession with politicians eating may seem odd at first glance. According to food and culture writer, Sara Dickerman, “food is a powerful political tool. Eating and drinking are ways in which political candidates reveal their humanity, their common touch.” Food unites as – we are not just what we eat, we are who we eat it with too.
Dickerman continues: “Banal as eating can be, though, sharing food and drink is also surprisingly intimate, and it touches on so many taboos, cultural stereotypes and straight up bodily awkwardness that it leaves candidates vulnerable, opening them up to social media mockery.” Food is a great leveller and failing to consume in a manner deemed to in keeping with convention is indicative of a failure of sorts. The logic that if a politician finds eating a bacon sandwich challenging, how are they going to provide tax reform, stands to reason.
Food is also an important part of proving one’s authenticity. Those of us who dwell on the internet are well qualified to sniff out that which seems staged, with the Independent Group falling foul in February of last year. The fledgling party’s decision to partake in a Cheeky Nandos must have made their advisers squirm when they realised what they had done. The Telegraph presumes the group trip had been preceded by the question: “Hey Siri, which high street restaurant will make us seem like normal people?”.
Yet the paper continues that “they chose to have a ‘cheeky’ Nando’s – arguably the least partisan restaurant on the high street; a socially acceptable KFC that (crucially) sent them viral.” The power of such an image serves to provide social nuance in defining exactly what kind of party they are without the trouble of writing a manifesto. A picture is worth a thousand words, even if some of those include asking why has Gavin Shuker ordered plain chicken and a dressing-less salad?
There are also those who have denounced rumoured food faux pas of past, planting them in scandal filled autobiographies. While Peter Mandelson’s is best known as the MP for Hartlepool, a rumour that he confused chip shop mushy peas for guacamole, has haunted him for years. In a recent interview, Mandelson revealed that: “the guacamole story is not true I’m afraid. Great story, but not true.
“The story actually applies - as I explain in the book - to an American student helping out in the Knowsley North by-election in 1986, who walked into the fish and chip shop, pointed to the mushy peas and said I’ll have some of your guacamole as well thanks.
“Now, mainly, but not only thanks to Neil Kinnock, who thought it was hilarious, the joke was applied to me.
“I worked for the Labour party from 1985 to 1991 as the campaign director and at my leaving do he solemnly presented me with a large piece of fish and chips and mushy peas wrapped in the Daily Mirror, and said enjoy the guacamole.
“And from that moment on the story was transferred to me.”
It is not only on this side of the pond that the press weaponize food against politicians. It is no secret that Fox News are not the biggest fans of Barack Obama. From his tan suit to his middle name, the broadcaster never misses an opportunity to ridicule the former president. Just one month into his eight-year tenure, Obama faced criticism from the broadcaster for his decision to order a burger with Dijon mustard. Featured on Hannity’s America, the president’s face was photoshopped alongside a selection of mustard pots, and labelled President Poupon. Simpler times indeed.
It may, therefore, come as a surprise that the current president of the United States has not received more press coverage for his unusual diet. His 2019 banquet for football champions did, however, make headlines for its rather peculiar choice of caterer – McDonald’s. Photographs of the spread captured the full grandeur of the event – Big Macs aplenty on silver platters, of which the president said: “We have some very large people that like eating. So I think we’re going to have a little fun.” He went further, pointing out that the choice of food was patriotic. “It’s all American stuff, No matter what we did, there’s nothing you can have that’s better than that, right?” It seems that feeding people Whoppers is something the Trump administration are well accustomed to.
It is unclear entirely what merits the popularity of certain photographs of politicians eating in the public domain. There are a number of images of Boris Johnson eating pie, or Jo Swinson attempting to eat a marshmallow that are worthy of a mention. Yet there is something so specifically awkward and so humanly awful about the selected snapshots discussed above that ensures their mention in the history books, or at least in the tabloids. However, when one considers the fact that King Henry I’s death is attributed to consuming an excessive number of lampreys (quite against his physician’s advice) it seems these politicians got off lightly.
What is clear, however, is that food is far more powerful than we ever thought possible. It can be used to emphasize a connection (see Tony Blair and Gordon Brown dining on a rather Conservative Mr Whippy in 2005), to indicate membership to a particular group (George Osborne and his infamous Byron Burger in 2013), or even to prove a rather shoddy memory (David Cameron and his pasty springs to mind). Food is so much more than fuel – even a humble Pret sandwich can provide political ammunition for years to come.
There are, of course, politicians who come off scot-free, when considering the indiscretions of their peers. Who among us can begrudge Margaret Thatcher for her involvement in the manufacture of Mr Whippy? Or indeed, for those who are simply blessed with food themed names?
One thing, however, is clear, if the adage, you are what you eat is true, politicians might do well to rethink their diets.
