Official state foods—there are 110 of them—represent a huge buffet of regional pride that occasionally verges on bluster throughout the United States, in locations that span every political inclination and demographic distinction.
How a bill relating to muffins, chili, or plums is passed—or not
Oklahoma's official state supper, which consists of eleven different meals, aims to please everyone, but Louisiana stands out as the only state in the union with the guts to designate gumbo as its national dish.
Along with the inventory of state beverages, which includes 22 different beverages, it is an interesting list that you might spend hours researching (most are milk). A few apparent questions come up again when you explore the more esoteric items. To start with Who chose this assortment of dishes? And was there ever any disagreement over any of these seemingly arbitrary choices?
It's a great method to learn about how a bill becomes legislation and the response to the first question is typically children in elementary, middle, or high school.
The second question has a resounding "Yes" as the response. Even while these issues may not seem life-altering, people can become extremely enthusiastic about eating. Some of these laws have stalled or failed outright, affording students a new kind of learning about how the political system works. Many of these measures have prompted contentious debates in legislatures and media discussions.
Even though creating a state fruit or muffin may appear to have low stakes overall, individuals take it seriously, and the twists and turns of the process reveal a complex tale of political intrigue and cultural identity.
Texas State Representative Ben Grant made this statement in 1977 when he introduced the legislation that would make chili the official state dish: "The beauty of Texas trees and flowers is represented by the pecan and the bluebonnet, and the mockingbird is emblematic of our abundant and varied wildlife." But this great state's highly regarded cuisine has never earned official recognition nor been given an official insignia.
The previous president Lyndon Johnson was then cited by Grant as saying, "Chili created outside of Texas is a weak, apologetic imitation of the real thing."
Credit In 1964, a high school student from New Mexico named Helen Loera is credited with inventing the fad. The following year, the Albuquerque Journal said that Loera got the notion to propose the chile as the state vegetable while enrolled in a history course instructed by Arcenio A. Gonzales, who also served in the New Mexico assembly. Gonzalez assured his student that if he were elected again, he would take her request into consideration because a different statute had just been passed designating the black bear as the official state animal. He was, and in January 1965, at the start of the following session, he began working.
Gonzalez was a Democrat, thus John Bigbee, one of his Republican colleagues, felt compelled to criticize and amend the measure. Bigbee, who represented one of the main bean-growing areas in the state, proposed an amendment designating pinto beans and chiles as the two official state vegetables. He said to The Santa Fe New Mexican, "I would hate to have to go back home and tell them we left the beans out of their chili." New Mexico became the first state to name any form of food as its official state food when the updated measure was approved by a unanimous vote.
It also served as a catalyst for a subsequent conflict at the Santa Fe capitol 30 years later, when the legislature debated and ultimately approved the official state question, "Red or green?," which refers to a crucial choice that diners in the state's eateries must make when choosing between two different kinds of chile.
Despite having received support from both sides of the aisle, then-Governor Gary Johnson vetoed the bill in April 1995, claiming it was a waste of time and would force the reprinting of official papers. Johnson's veto was widely mocked because it appeared to be such a straightforward victory for state pride—the issue is actually very prevalent in New Mexico—and a chance for extensive media coverage. It was described as "a doltish tactic" in one letter to the editor that was published in The Albuquerque Tribune, which seemed to capture the general feeling. Johnson then signed the legislation into law after the legislature passed it once more a year later. "Red or green?" has been the state anthem of New Mexico since 1996. The correct response is "Christmas," which refers to both types of chile.
The complaint made by Governor Gary Johnson is not unusual. It's typical to hear both politicians and regular people argue that the state foods bills are a waste of time as they progress through the legislative process with classrooms full of attentive pupils following every move. It must be acknowledged that in many instances, the legislation's actual content is only one or two sentences long, making it simple to create, read, and pass—the arguments against wasting time take up much more hours than simply enacting the measure right away.
The critics have occasionally prevailed and failed state food proposals. Think about the cranberry muffin's situation. When it came time for a vote in 1988, primary school kids in Merrill, Wisconsin, advocated naming it the official state muffin and collaborated with Democrat state senator Lloyd Kincaid. It felt like a good crop to celebrate at the time because Wisconsin was the second-largest producer of cranberries in the country (it has since soared to the top of the list, by a wide margin). The kids advocated for their plan in the state house in Madison and wrote 150 letters to cranberry farmers and other officials. What happened next was covered by the Associated Press:
A state senator started proposing modifications to name several varieties of the state muffin, such as choosing the Egg McMuffin as the official state breakfast muffin, just minutes before the bill's final passage by the Legislature.
Supporters of the measure gave up rather than deal with the mocking amendments, which included included establishing "the ragamuffin as the state's official child muffin" because it was the end of the legislative session and the lawmakers wanted to go home. A change to the original bill's language to eliminate muffins entirely and designate the cranberry as Wisconsin's state fruit was also defeated.
According to the pupils' instructor Elaine Tabor, "It really and truly was scornful the way they did it," she told The Country Today, a newspaper in Eau Claire. These are second graders, after all. The state was not charged anything for it. I felt awful about how it was handled. It was like getting smacked in the face. I'm not sure what this is instructing the pupils in.
The classes at Tabor kept trying. Rep. Dale Schultz, a Republican, suggested the state muffin should be the "meadow muffin," also known as a cow pie and largely inedible for humans. Kincaid reintroduced the bill non 1989 but was met with a fresh barrier. Schultz claimed that doing this would honor his supporters, particularly the community of Prairie du Sac, which annually hosts the Wisconsin State Cow Chip Throw & Festival (which is still continuing, by the way, and is now sponsored by the fast-food business Culver's).
The Merrill youngsters gave it another shot a year later, now in fourth grade, only to have Wisconsin Governor Tommy Thompson declare that he was done signing any measures regarding state symbols, however it's important to note that he did this right after establishing maize as the official grain. Thompson stated, "We're saturated. "I don't intend to sign any more, and I would love for this to be the last one."
Although cranberries were finally given their due and proclaimed the state fruit in 2003 at the request of a fifth-grade class from Kenosha County, Wisconsin still does not have a state muffin.
Foods are by no means the only seemingly innocent state emblem that spark controversy in different legislatures. While California was considering options for the state mollusc in 1988, Oklahoma was passing its official state dinner, which consists of an 8 to 10-ounce steak "cut... to imitate the shape of Oklahoma." Republicans lobbied for the abalone based on weird, homophobic reasoning: as one assemblyman put it, "the banana slug is a bisexual deviant." Democratic Assemblyman Byron Sher had first nominated the banana slug. Straight abalone is used. That is significant.
There are no designated state foods in Colorado, Hawaii, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, or Pennsylvania (neither, for that matter, do the District of Columbia or any of U.S. territories; I checked). Of those that do, there is no discernible pattern in terms of the quantity or variety of official foods.
The Greening apple, the state fruit of Rhode Island, and calamari are the state dishes (state appetizer). The Eastern black walnut, the state tree nut of Missouri, Norton/Cynthiana grapes, the state grape; there is no state fruit, and ice cream cones, the state dessert, are amusing when imagined together on a plate. The same is true of Missouri's food trio, which includes the Eastern black walnut, the state tree nut, Norton/Cynthiana grapes, and ice cream cones. With a state dessert (Whoopie pie), a state pie (blueberry), and a state sweetener, Maine keeps things sweet (pure maple syrup). Pecans and peanuts are the official state nuts and legumes of Alabama, respectively, while peaches and blackberries are the official tree fruits.
70 out of 110 state foods—the vast majority—have been recognized since 2000. The Sandhill plum, which has been designated the state fruit of Kansas since April 12, 2022, is the most latest of the two to arrive this year. The process was initiated by fourth- and fifth-graders, and it was swiftly passed by the legislature (despite some lawmakers' playful opposition to the legislation in favor of recommendations from schools in their districts, as reported by The Kansas Reflector).
If you look at the list of recent foods, you'll also notice an increase in the number of foods that are not crops but rather foods that require human preparation, such as pumpkin pie (the state pie of Illinois), Lane cake (the state dessert of Alabama), peach cobbler (the state dessert of Texas), and Smith Island cake (the state dessert of Maryland). This may be a sign that Americans are becoming more aware of American regional foods and their potential as promotional tools for culinary tourism or general goodwill.
But debates continue. In 2021, the Connecticut House of Representatives passed a bill designating pizza as the official state food, in part due to support from some guy from Barstool Sports, but it was defeated in the state senate. The Maine legislature considered and then rejected a proposal to name the lobster roll the state sandwich (someone pointed out it wasn't actually invented there). In the upcoming legislative session, there will undoubtedly be more noisy arguments and proposed state foods. Many politicians will be excited to honor their states with these designations and search for chances to broaden the choices.
After submitting his bill in 2013 to designate calamari as the official state appetizer, Rhode Island State Representative Joseph McNamara told the Associated Press, "Any gourmet would recognize, you always start with the appetizer." Who is to say? Next year, we might continue to entrée.
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