When I stumbled upon a lengthy Wikipedia list of official U.S. state foods, my first instinct was to laugh. I had never before heard of this strange custom: state legislatures all across the country have taken the time to draft, discuss, and ratify bills that honor certain foods and drinks as state favorites. Quirky as this is, it isn’t as obscure of a practice as you might expect; the majority of U.S. states declare not just one, but several foods as state-official. Oklahoma alone lists 13.

One striking feature of the list is the banality of many of the chosen foods, leading us to wonder why politicians even bothered to officially endorse them. The state cookie of Pennsylvania is chocolate chip, and my cursory research suggests that the state has no particular cultural or historical tie to this universally beloved treat. Twenty states declare milk to be their official state beverage; Alabama broke the dull trend by choosing Conecuh Ridge Whiskey (once marketed as moonshine during prohibition), making it the only state classy enough to endorse an alcoholic drink.

Milk and cookies notwithstanding, most chosen foods possess some exceptional significance in the history, culture, or economy of the state that picked them. Scrolling down the list, you’d probably notice the obvious ones that confirm state stereotypes. Idaho chose the potato; Florida chose Key Lime Pie; Texas chose chips and salsa.

Then there are the more mystifying (but apparently no less meaningful) choices. Consider this excerpt from a laughably long-winded bill declaring Jell-O as the official dessert of Utah: “Whereas, Utah has been the number one per capita consumer of Jell-O brand gelatin for many years, Whereas, Jell-O is representative of good family fun, which Utah is known for throughout the world…” The list goes on to note connections as mystical as the concurrent invention of Jell-O and admission of Utah to the Union. Utah and Jell-O are evidently bound together by fate.

Absurdly, Oklahoma chose watermelon as its state vegetable. The senator who sponsored the bill later proudly declared, “The controversy on whether watermelon is a fruit or vegetable has been officially decided by the Oklahoma legislature.” No such controversy exists, of course, but who can blame the senator for his proclamation? Aggrandizing rhetoric and petty celebration seem to be half the fun of picking state foods.

But the choices need not be looked at as purely silly! I laughed when I first discovered this list, but have since come to appreciate how meaningful state foods can be. They certainly tell you more about local culture and lore than state birds ever could. Someday I hope to see a Boston cream doughnut on the Massachusetts state quarter.

Unfortunately, Connecticut does not join the ranks of those states that have amusing or meaningful backstories for their state foods. In fact, it does not have a state food at all. I humbly submit that it adopt the white clam pizza. Or the election cake, apparently thought to have originated in Hartford. Or the Usdan fries. Just some food for thought.