Paneer, Pesarattu and Politics: What’s Behind America’s Fascination With Usha Vance’s Food Choices for the Vice President

Usha Vance, the wife of Vice President JD Vance, continues to fascinate America is evident in the scrutiny that the Second Lady and the lifestyle she, apparently, orchestrates, receives in the media. The scrutiny is all the more microscopic when it comes to what the Vances eat. The fascination, or course, is because of the way Usha Vance runs a vegetarian household — far from the meat and potatoes Midwestern cuisine that JD Vance was raised with.

The media’s preoccupation with the Vances’ dietary dynamics reveals much about how food functions as cultural and political currency in American media landscapes. This narrative sits at the intersection of several prominent media tropes: the humanizing domestic tale, the cultural fusion love story, and the subtle reinforcement of traditional gender roles within a politically prominent marriage.

The Commodification of Cultural Cuisine

The commodification of “ethnic” cuisines has a long history in American media. Coverage of political figures’ relationships with foods from various cultural traditions often follows predictable patterns that both exoticize and normalize these culinary practices. When Kamala Harris demonstrated her dosa-making skills during her campaign, or when Nikki Haley referenced her Indian mother’s cooking, these moments were framed as both authentic cultural connections and calculated political moves.

In the case of the Vances, media outlets have transformed Usha’s vegetarian cooking into a symbol of America’s multicultural potential, while simultaneously preserving the familiar narrative of a wife influencing her husband’s habits through domestic care. The focus on JD’s adaptation to vegetarian dishes rather than on Usha’s navigation of American food culture reflects ongoing asymmetry in how cultural integration is framed in political narratives.

Food choices in political families are rarely just personal decisions—they’re performances staged for public consumption. When JD Vance proclaims his love for paneer on Joe Rogan’s podcast, he’s not simply sharing a dietary preference but engaging in identity work, positioning himself as both culturally open and authentically rooted. This performance of culinary adaptation allows him to demonstrate cosmopolitan credentials without disturbing his core political identity.

Similarly, when Usha referenced her husband’s adaptation to her vegetarian diet in her Republican National Committee speech, she wasn’t just sharing a personal anecdote but participating in the carefully choreographed presentation of their marriage as a model of cultural harmony. Food stories function as safe territory for discussing diversity and difference in political contexts where more direct engagement with policy implications of multiculturalism might prove divisive.

What’s notably absent from these food-focused narratives is substantive discussion of how cultural exchange might influence policy positions or governance philosophies. The concentration on domestic culinary practices keeps the conversation firmly in the personal realm, avoiding more challenging questions about how multicultural families navigate political positions that may impact immigrant communities or international relations.

This depoliticization of cultural difference through its reduction to food preferences is a common media strategy that allows for the appearance of cultural dialogue without confronting deeper structural questions about power, representation, and policy. The extensive coverage of JD Vance’s enjoyment of paneer occurs in a political context where immigration policies, multicultural education, and international trade relations have profound implications beyond the dinner table.

In focusing so intently on what the Vice President eats rather than how his multicultural household might influence what he thinks, media coverage perpetuates a pattern of treating diversity as something to be consumed rather than a force that might transform political perspectives.

In the complex narrative of political marriages, few culinary transformations have garnered as much attention as Vice President JD Vance’s journey from Appalachian meat enthusiast to paneer appreciator. Media outlets have seized upon this dietary shift as a metaphor for cultural convergence in American politics, with Usha Vance’s Indian heritage positioned as the catalyst for change.

Before his life with Usha, JD Vance’s culinary background reflected his upbringing in Middletown, Ohio, and his Appalachian roots. As portrayed in media narratives, his diet centered around “hearty, meat-heavy meals typical of Appalachian and Midwestern cuisine” including “staples like fried chicken, roast beef, pork chops, and side dishes such as mashed potatoes, green beans, and cornbread” (Mashed.com). These foods, characterized as emphasizing “simplicity and sustenance,” have been framed as representative of his working-class background in the Rust Belt.

This framing reinforces a common narrative device in political storytelling: the authentic American heartland figure whose palate reflects his origins. Food becomes shorthand for cultural identity—a trope repeatedly employed in profiles of politicians with working-class backgrounds. The detailed inventory of these “authentic” American foods serves to establish Vance’s heartland credentials, much as Barack Obama’s love of Five Guys burgers or George W. Bush’s preference for Tex-Mex were once deployed as signifiers of their relatability.

For women of color in particular, food becomes an intensified focus. When Kamala Harris discussed her love of cooking during the 2020 campaign, media outlets extensively covered her masala dosa preparation and Thanksgiving turkey brining techniques.

Media reports have fixated on the cultural collision represented by the Vances’ marriage. Mashed.com describes Usha as “the daughter of immigrants from Andhra Pradesh in Southern India, and a Yale-educated former litigator” whose “vegetarian roots and quietly commanding presence have left a distinct mark on U.S. Vice President JD Vance’s diet.”

The narrative carefully balances Usha’s professional credentials with her cultural heritage, a common media approach when discussing politically adjacent women of color. Her vegetarianism becomes a central character trait, though sources like Mashed.com acknowledge that “she hasn’t publicly detailed whether her choice stems from cultural tradition” while noting that “vegetarianism is common in many Indian households, often rooted in religious or ethical values.”

The Failed Pizza Gambit

A key anecdote in this culinary narrative involves JD Vance’s early attempt to impress his future wife. According to his own account on “The Joe Rogan Experience,” Vance attempted to make a vegetarian pizza during their courtship: “I rolled out a flat thing of crescent rolls, put raw broccoli on top of it, sprinkled ranch dressing, and stuck it in the oven for 45 minutes.” By his own admission, “It was disgusting.”

This anecdote has been widely repeated across media platforms, serving as a convenient shorthand for the cultural gap the couple initially navigated. The failed cooking attempt becomes a narrative device establishing the “before” picture in what outlets frame as a journey of culinary enlightenment.

Disgusting Fake Meat

The narrative arc presented in media coverage shows JD Vance evolving from culinary novice to vegetarian Indian food enthusiast. His conversion story reached its apex during his appearance on Joe Rogan’s podcast, where he praised Indian vegetarian cuisine while simultaneously criticizing plant-based meat alternatives as “highly processed garbage.” As Mashed.com reports, he urged those considering vegetarianism to avoid “disgusting fake meat” in favor of “real Indian vegetarian dishes.”

In her speech at the 2024 Republican National Convention, Usha Vance highlighted this culinary evolution as symbolic of her husband’s character, stating: “Although he’s a meat and potatoes kind of guy, he adapted to my vegetarian diet and learned to cook food for my mother, Indian food.”

Media coverage consistently emphasizes two specific dishes in the Vice President’s new culinary repertoire: paneer with rice and spiced chickpeas. These dishes, characterized as “commonly found on Indian dinner tables,” allow for detailed explanations of Indian cuisine to primarily white American audiences.

The highlighted dishes are not random selections but represent accessible entry points into South Asian cuisine for Western palates. Paneer, described by Mashed.com as “a fresh Indian cheese with a mild taste and firm texture,” occupies a special place in Indian vegetarian cooking precisely because its mild flavor and hearty texture make it approachable to non-Indian diners. Unlike the fermented and aged cheeses common in Western cuisine, paneer is fresh and unripened, often compared to cottage cheese but with a firmer consistency.

Pesarattu and Gongura Pachadi

In authentic Andhra cuisine—the regional cooking tradition of Usha’s ancestral homeland—paneer appears less frequently than in North Indian cooking. Traditional Andhra dishes feature more lentil preparations, pickles, and spicier profiles than what’s typically presented in Americanized versions of Indian food. The focus on paneer rather than more regionally specific dishes like pesarattu (mung bean crepes) or gongura pachadi (sorrel leaf chutney) represents a simplified, pan-Indian presentation that’s more recognizable to American audiences.

Similarly, the chickpea dishes JD Vance praises are presented as universally Indian, though chickpea preparations vary dramatically across the subcontinent. In North India, chole (spiced chickpeas) might be served with bhature (fried bread), while South Indian preparations might incorporate coconut and curry leaves for a completely different flavor profile. The media’s generalized description of “chickpeas, or chana” glosses over these regional distinctions.

What’s notably absent from the coverage is discussion of the spice levels Usha incorporates into her cooking. Andhra cuisine is renowned throughout India for its fiery heat level, featuring dishes that would challenge most American palates. The narrative of JD Vance embracing “Indian food” without addressing the inevitable heat level negotiations that would occur in such a culinary merger presents a sanitized version of cross-cultural eating.

This educational approach to Indian cuisine positions the Vice President’s dietary evolution as a form of cultural diplomacy, while also providing readers with accessible entry points into Indian food. Media outlets devote considerable space to explaining that chickpeas are “packed with protein, fiber, and essential nutrients like iron, magnesium, and folate,” information that simultaneously validates the nutritional benefits of vegetarian eating while framing Indian cuisine through a Western nutritional lens rather than its cultural or historical significance.

This framing device—explaining “exotic” foods through their nutritional benefits and versatility—has been a staple in American food writing for decades, revealing an underlying assumption about the audience’s cultural reference points and perpetuating a subtle othering of non-Western culinary traditions.

Political Spouses Through a Culinary Lens

The media’s fascination with Usha Vance’s culinary influence on her husband reflects broader patterns in how political spouses—particularly women of color—are portrayed in American media. This coverage follows a well-established tradition of focusing on the domestic roles of political wives while their husbands’ professional accomplishments take center stage.

Usha Vance joins a long line of political spouses whose food choices and culinary influences have been scrutinized by the media. Michelle Obama’s vegetable garden and “Let’s Move” campaign positioned her as America’s nutrition advocate. Melania Trump’s European culinary background occasionally surfaced in coverage, though less prominently. Jill Biden gained attention for her Italian-American family recipes and surprise bagel runs.

For women of color in particular, food becomes an intensified focus. When Kamala Harris discussed her love of cooking during the 2020 campaign, media outlets extensively covered her masala dosa preparation and Thanksgiving turkey brining techniques. Similarly, media fixated on Jackie Robinson’s wife Rachel’s Caribbean-influenced cooking during his historic integration of baseball.

What distinguishes the Usha Vance narrative is its framing as a conversion story—the transformation of an “all-American” meat-eater through exposure to “exotic” vegetarian cuisine—creating a digestible metaphor for cultural integration that avoids more complex political discussions about immigration and multiculturalism.

Food coverage in political profiles rarely exists in a neutral context. The emphasis on Usha’s vegetarian cooking occurs against a backdrop where dietary choices have become increasingly politicized in American culture. Plant-based diets are often coded as liberal or coastal elite preferences, while meat consumption frequently serves as a conservative cultural signifier.

JD Vance’s public embrace of Indian vegetarian cuisine while simultaneously rejecting “fake meat” alternatives represents a careful navigation of these complex cultural waters. His championing of “authentic” Indian vegetarian dishes allows him to embrace multiculturalism without abandoning the cultural authenticity that forms a cornerstone of his political brand.

Media coverage mirrors this complex dance, presenting Usha’s culinary influence as symbolically significant while avoiding direct engagement with the more challenging questions of representation and identity in American politics. The narrative simultaneously humanizes the Vice President through relatable domestic details while also highlighting the multicultural nature of their household—positioning the Second Family as representative of America’s cultural diversity despite maintaining traditional gender roles where the wife influences the household’s meals.

As Usha Vance “steps further into the public spotlight,” as Mashed.com puts it, media coverage continues to frame her influence primarily through the lens of food and family, creating a palatable story of cultural exchange centered around the dinner table.

In the process, the Vances’ personal dietary choices have become encoded with political symbolism—a microcosm of how America might navigate its own increasingly diverse cultural influences while maintaining established power structures.