The Kansas State Fair has swollen Hutchinson like a blood-gorged tick with deep-fried food, fruity drinks and — last weekend — the bloviating of politicians.

Welcome to your state fair in an election year.

This Sept. 12 I sampled both an array of twisted fair foods and the onstage antics of candidates for U.S. Senate and governor. As the day wound down, I realized that my array of refreshments perfectly encapsulated the men and women who debated in Reno County.

Yes, yes, I know. This strikes me as ridiculous, too. But no less ridiculous than selling deep-fried, bacon-wrapped Oreos — with a salted caramel moonshine sauce. (I didn’t try that specific item Saturday, but there’s always next time.)

Let’s dig in.

 

The tacone: Cindy Holscher

Arriving at the fair after a three-hour drive, I found myself famished. My stomach sought something more substantial than a funnel cake. I stumbled across the divine tacone — a concoction of taco meat, cheese and lettuce stuffed into a fried tortilla shaped like an extra-large ice cream cone.

The vendor was kind enough to add a dollop of sour cream, which really tied the whole thing together.

The tacone surprised me, but it shouldn’t have. Tacos taste great! In the same way, I shouldn’t have been surprised by Democratic gubernatorial candidate Cindy Holscher‘s deft performance. Throughout her 10:30 a.m. to noon debate against Republican Ty Masterson, the veteran unleashed a series of spicy barbs.

I’ve watched Holscher at public events through the years, and she’s usually warm and personable. Until Saturday, I hadn’t seen her behave particularly ferociously in public. Call it Holscher unleashed.

“I am no socialist,” she proclaimed after one attack. “But Ty keeps saying ‘socialist’ and ‘extreme.’ Do you know what’s extreme? Opposing health care when people are struggling. That’s extremist. What else is extreme? Opposing raising the minimum wage for our people while he’s collecting a million dollars from a no-show job. That’s extreme.”

I needn’t have worried. Like that tacone, Holscher had bite.

 

Deep-fried cookie dough: Ty Masterson

Deep-fried chunks of one substance or another have been state fair mainstays for years. Deep-fried cheesecake, deep-fried bacon, deep-fried peanut butter and jelly — you name the food, someone has compressed it into tennis ball-sized chunk, drenched it in flour and tossed it in hot oil for 15 minutes.

The deep-fried cookie dough pellets I bought Saturday afternoon reminded me of Masterson. They looked attractive enough on the outside, and my first bite went well enough. But after a few mouthfuls, the unsettling texture of the hot cookie dough raised questions.

It was, as a friend said, “gritty.” The dough’s coarse texture mixed confusingly with its crispy coating. Was Masterson a new dawn for Kansas or an old legislative hand defending his years in Topeka? I couldn’t tell!

Masterson’s blunt-talking, forceful demeanor also sat strangely at the state fair. He repeated his talking points ad nauseam — if anyone wondered whether he believed Holscher was a socialist, he put that question to bed — but he did precious little reaching across the aisle.

“You guys think you’re going to get more affordability by higher taxes?” he challenged the rowdy audience. “I mean, process that through your brains.”

Not awful for a politician making his case, but not the tastiest.

 

Deep-fried mac and cheese: Adam Hamilton

A United Methodist Church pastor running for a U.S. Senate out of Kansas — as a Democrat — might seem strange. So does the prospect of frying a chunk of macaroni and cheese into a hefty, crispy nugget.

But both pastor and edible nugget did well at the fair.

The treat featured gooey yellow cheese bursting out of the fried coating, and it paired well with a dipping cup of ketchup. Hamilton had been briefed to the hilt and had zingers at the ready throughout his 1:30-3 p.m. confrontation with incumbent U.S. Sen. Roger Marshall, R-Kansas.

He also levied heavy blows: “You’ve got to have courage, and courage is when you stand up to your president and your party, and you say, ‘This is hurting people back home.’ ”

While tasty and enjoyed by others in our Kansas Reflector fair group, deep-fried mac and cheese wasn’t going to revolutionize fine dining. Likewise, Marshall’s rhetoric contained few surprises from a moderate Midwestern politician.

But that didn’t keep it from being a tasty snack as the afternoon stretched into evening.

 

Pickle lemonade: Roger Marshall

I had seen the sign advertising a pickle juice lemonade early Saturday. As someone who adores a pickle juice martini and other savory cocktails, like the bloody Mary, I found the prospect irresistible.

I picked up one of the beverages as I left the fair shortly after 5 p.m., and I’m sorry to tell you that it was disappointing. Yes, pickle juice had been added, and a few sad dill chips floated at the top. But the drink didn’t taste especially sour or sweet, and as the ice melted, it became a watery mess.

That was the exact story of Sen. Roger “Doc” Marshall at the Kansas State Fair.

Facing a hostile crowd, Marshall didn’t combust or melt down so much as simply dissolve. He hung onto his lectern for dear life, spoke haltingly when challenged, and generally seemed like someone who had not prepared for the unruly atmosphere of a state fair debate.

One of his harshest attacks was — suggesting that Hamilton wanted to kill cows?

“If he had his way, he’d go put a plastic bag over the mouths of these dairy cows back here,” Marshall proclaimed.

Hamilton didn’t win the debate through forceful verbiage. But Marshall almost certainly lost it with his flavorless performance.

 

Parting thoughts

My primary concern after Saturday’s debate is not whether any candidate has had their fortunes meaningfully changed. Both sides probably care too much about the spectacle. Fundraising, door-knocking and meeting voters will make the difference this fall.

No, my fear is that Marshall’s atrocious performance will give Kansas Republican candidates another reason to avoid speaking to the public in an uncontrolled atmosphere.

Public debates might not flip many votes, but they do give everyday Kansans the chance to see candidates held accountable by professional journalists. More than all the fried food you can buy, that’s a Kansas State Fair tradition worth preserving.

Clay Wirestone is Kansas Reflector opinion editor. His first book, “Opinionated: Kansas Journalists Who Proved Why Commentary Matters — Then and Now,” comes out Sept. 29 from the University Press of Kansas. Through its opinion section, Kansas Reflector works to amplify the voices of people who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate. Find information, including how to submit your own commentary, here.