Open letter to Cindy McCain

Cindy, Cindy, Cindy. I’m sure you won’t mind if I call you that; you told me to, the times we met in New Hampshire when you were standing by your man in his quest to become president.

I always liked you and admired your smarts, your easy charm, impeccable grooming and appearance, although the New Yorker in me, which had outgrown the Washingtonian in me, couldn’t help but notice the Washingtonian in you, with your borderline-expensive for most Americans St. John’s knit suits, not one bit chic but safe, maybe even a little dowdy. More Lord & Taylor than Bloomingdale’s. Like a good little Washington wife. Still, I knew immediately we’d never talk about recipes because I never believed you cook. I still don’t.

But here we are, talking about recipes.

Specifically, the three your husband’s campaign lifted, almost pixel for pixel, from the Food Network site and pasted onto hubby’s campaign site, under Cindy’s Recipes, and preserved by me here, now that the campaign took them down.  Oh, I know you didn’t do it. The campaign is blaming an intern. But my questions are for you.

What is it about our electoral system or our society that compels politicians’ wives to play political Pinocchio and pretend they putter around the kitchen, whipping up their favorites? Millions of women don’t cook, by choice, so why are we locked into the attitudinal era of half a century ago, when Mamie Eisenhower’s fudge recipe was all the rage? Have focus groups told all of you Inside the Beltway that women living in landlocked flat states won’t vote for a man whose wife doesn’t cook? What about women candidates whose husbands don’t cook?

Oh, that’s right. That’s different. Still. In 2008.

What amused me about “your” recipes were the decidedly upmarket choices, now removed from the website since the truth hit the fan, but living on in Google Cache. Here’s one side-by-side comparison, click to enlarge, and The Huffington Post has the others. Passion Fruit Mousse. Farfalle with Turkey Sausage, Peas and Mushrooms. Ahi Tuna with Napa Cabbage Salad. You think Pennsylvania Democrats are bitter? Wait till Republicans in the Keystone State try to make those recipes and find out why Whole Foods is nicknamed Whole Paycheck.

Maybe your intern should have taken a lesson from the long-suffering Pat Nixon who, as first lady, sent out recipes for her meatloaf. It’s a recipe so plebian that when the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette re-ran it in 2002, they couldn’t bring themselves to run the exact original and added the step of sauteeing the garlic and onion, which is not just Cooking 101, it is Cooking 1. I wouldn’t be surprised if her original used powdered garlic and onions. The old man didn’t know the difference between obstructing justice and covering his ass; do we really think he had a palate?

Even Hillary Clinton, who treats the truth like a stretchy lump of Play-Doh, had the political acumen, when she was in your shoes, to pretend she made humble chocolate chip cookies, although she said it in such a smarmy way I remain ticked off to this day. And as far as we know, no intern was involved with that. The intern would come later, of course, and we do know the role of one infamous blue dress in giving Hillary her entitlement to a turn in elected politics.

Cindy, if you’re still with me here, let me mention another first lady. Like you, she was an heiress. Unlike you, she never pretended to be a homebody. Neither did her husband, it must be said, and she probably had her hands full just trying to keep track of his affairs. She loved haute cuisine but didn’t cook and made no bones about it. She was who she was and the nation loved her for it. Jackie. One name is all that’s needed.

Be yourself. It’s working for Michelle Obama, who never had recipes on her husband’s campaign site. Then again, they’re younger. They know we’ve moved on, most of us, from the days of Nancy Reagan’s gag-inducing gazes at Ronnie. Even she has grown a spine with her work on behalf of stem cell research.

So girlfriend, know I still like you but not as much. More important, know that if there’s a sale at Lord & Taylor I won’t be fighting you for those St. John’s suits. Even if I liked them, I would look like a woven muffin.

And thanks for the perfect storm (in a teacup) of food and politics.

Related posts on From Scratch: Hillary and Cookies

Copyright (C) 2008 From Scratch All Rights Reserved

Tagged as: Cindy McCain, commentary, John McCain