Successful food preparation depends on several things. Chief among them are mastery of technique, proper tools and equipment, and most important of all, a thorough understanding of ingredients. It is on this final point that our confidence in wide-spread usability of Ron Paul begins to erode like a cake left out in the rain; Paul presents such a tangle of conflicting, even contradictory flavors and textures that he would throw any dish he was used in into the sort of baffled confusion we confess we feel contemplating him. Some flavors are instantly and consistently appealing, while others only inspire fervent acclaim inside a small circle of true believers, leaving the rest of us with a feeling of slightly frowning bemusement or even portentous disquiet. Some things are just like that. For instance, unless you are used to a steady diet of dried iguana snouts, smoked armadillo gizzards, or Ross Perot you may want to pass on using them, and opt for something more traditional and predictable. Such is the case with Paul; this is something quite out of the range of normal cookery, and that may ring wrong on the palates of most diners who pay more than passing attention to what they're swallowing.

 The specimen in question is lean, with a legendary reputation for toughness only exacerbated by decades of swimming against the current. While there seems to be little of the dreaded K Street fat, one can expect considerable amounts of faintly rancid gun oil and Roevwade bile overlaid with the odd scent off admixed Ayn Rand and Bible.
 
 Texas specialties are typically all over the map in terms of flavor and universality of appeal; for all those that draw a high rating in the rest of the country, a significant percentage merit a tarnished lone star at best; in other words, for every lip-smacking platter of Lyle Lovett we get served a sloppy bucket of G. W. Bush and a recycled pesticide jug of Tom DeLay. Paul’s regional appeal for barbecues, church dinners, rewarmed blog buffets, and home school lunches may not translate well to a larger range of diners for several reasons. Paul cuisine has an isolationist edge that may render using even the most mildly foreign ingredients at best problematical; there is also considerable debate as to how well it would work with non-white American ingredients. In truth, Paul’s reaction to almost everything is unfailingly negative: international cuisine; imported ingredients; big meals; government standards such as  health and food safety. We can only conclude that served as a burger he would rail about the over-redness of the catsup, demand that the pickle be born again as something not kosher, and filibuster the french fries.

 And yet for all of that there is some odd appeal here, much in the manner of an extra pungent spice or flavor agent that is used cautiously and infrequently, something typically kept in a tightly sealed jar in a dark, hard to reach corner of the spice cabinet--or safely down in Texas. A full Paul meal would be largely indigestible to a majority of diners, the more peculiar and radically inedible parts nervously pushed off to one side, soon making a wall around the edge of their plates, and little of what was originally served consumed after all.
 
Rating: 1 Fork -1 1/2 on a gold standard plate
 
Course Advice: Some appeal as an adventurous appetizer; may work in conservatively portioned soups; entrées can have appealing exterior, but may prove less palatable when the diner probes too deeply into the actual contents.
 
Recipe suggestions: Gun Nut Clusters; Closed Bordelaise; Libertarian ‘n Onions; Tax Code Upside Down Cake; Absolutely ANTIpasto; Deregulation Rehash; Federal System Bombe
 
Substitutions:  Nader has some of the same niche appeal, but far better overall flavor (except for a ‘spoiler’ air some insists he carries); Perot has some of the same flavors, but with more fizz and charts.
 
Beverage suggestions: Goldschlagger; Shooters; Frozen Alliance Slushies; Lone Star non-alcoholic beer
 
Warnings: May cause internationalists to break out in hives; may cause LaRouche’s Dementia in some heavy consumers; food for an America that never really existed.