When you think of war, you probably picture guns, tanks, and grand strategies. Yet, the annals of history also hold a surprising roster of clashes where the ammunition was edible. This top 10 food roundup uncovers the most unforgettable food‑based confrontations—from political corn tosses to pumpkin‑shattering cannonades.
10 Corn Diplomacy
Top 10 Food: Corn Diplomacy
Nikita Khrushchev, the Soviet premier famed for the Cuban Missile Crisis, harbored an unexpected passion for corn. He turned corn cultivation into a state mission, urging the planting of the grain across Siberia and even founding a corn institute in Ukraine.
To uncover the secrets of America’s corn belt, Khrushchev’s agricultural team paid a visit to Roswell Garst’s farm. Garst, an inventive farmer eager to export his hybrid corn seeds to the USSR, welcomed the Soviet delegation.
The exchange went both ways: Garst later journeyed to the Soviet Union to meet additional officials, and in 1959 Khrushchev returned the favor by touring Garst’s American farm.
Media swarms descended on the farm, a nuisance Garst detested. In a moment of mischievous defiance, he flung handfuls of hybrid corn husks at the press corps, earning an amused grin from Khrushchev.
Sadly, the corn‑centric diplomacy fell flat. Siberian soils proved far less fertile than the American Midwest, and Soviet farmers struggled with Garst’s techniques. As Khrushchev later lamented, “Corn was discredited, and so was I.”
9 Taiwanese Lawmaking
American public confidence in Congress has nosedived to historic lows—dropping to a mere 13 % in March 2016—highlighting a perception of endless bickering and gridlock. Across the Pacific, Taiwan’s Legislative Yuan has earned a reputation for taking disputes far beyond verbal sparring.
Footage from a recent session captures a full‑blown brawl sparked by a contentious trade agreement with China. The fracas was so infamous that the body was awarded the satirical Ig Nobel Peace Prize for its chaotic conduct.
Despite this violent reputation, only a single food‑related melee has been documented. In October 2004, while debating arms sales, legislators hurled their lunches at one another for a brief, chaotic moment. Afterwards, opposition member Chu Fong‑chi shouted, “My whole body smells like a lunch box!”
8 Tootsie Rolls
The Korean War’s bitter winter of 1950 saw U.S. Marines and UN forces trapped at the Chosin Reservoir, vastly outnumbered by more than 100,000 Chinese troops.
Running low on ammunition, the troops radioed for support, using the code word “Tootsie Rolls” to request 60 mm mortars. A miscommunication sent actual Tootsie Roll candies from Japan instead of munitions.
Rather than a disaster, the sweets became a lifeline. Marines warmed the candies in their armpits, sucked them for quick energy, and employed the sticky remnants to seal equipment leaks.
As the battered troops marched 130 km (80 mi) toward the sea, they left a trail of Tootsie Roll wrappers across the snow. Though the campaign cost 3,000 of the 15,000 soldiers’ lives, many credit the humble candy with helping the survivors endure.
7 Cod Wars
The United Kingdom boasts a storied record of military involvement, having intervened in nearly nine‑tenths of all UN member states. It’s therefore no surprise that the Royal Navy once clashed over something as modest as fish.
Iceland, a nation with scant natural resources, relies heavily on its fishing industry—accounting for at least 12 % of its GDP. After achieving independence in 1944, Iceland extended its exclusive fishing zone from 5 km (3 mi) to 6 km (4 mi).
Britain, situated roughly 1,300 km (800 mi) from the island, initially dismissed the change. However, Iceland continued to push its boundaries, eventually reaching a 320 km (200 mi) exclusive economic zone. The UK contested each expansion, sparking three separate “Cod Wars” between 1958 and 1976.
Despite the prolonged standoff, the conflict remained relatively bloodless—only a single casualty occurred on either side. Ultimately, diplomatic pressure forced Britain to accept Iceland’s expanded fishing limits.
6 La Tomatina
Spain’s famed Running of the Bulls isn’t the country’s only chaotic celebration. In the town of Buñol, thousands gather each August for La Tomatina, a massive, organized tomato‑throwing extravaganza.
The festival’s roots trace back to 1945, though its exact origin remains murky. Some attribute it to an impromptu scuffle between two youths that snowballed into a town‑wide event; others claim it began as a protest where citizens hurled tomatoes at politicians.
Regardless of its genesis, La Tomatina has ballooned into a colossal spectacle. In 2015, participants tossed nearly 145,000 kg (320,000 lb) of tomatoes. The week‑long celebration draws about 40,000 visitors, temporarily quadrupling Buñol’s population, with 22,000 tickets sold for the actual tomato fight.
After the hour‑long battle, streets are awash with tomato pulp, prompting fire trucks to hose down the chaos. Participants are responsible for cleaning up, often donning goggles and swimsuits to aid the process.
5 Greek Yogurt
While Greek yogurt enjoys a reputation as a health‑conscious breakfast staple in the United States, in Greece it has historically symbolized political dissent.
During the 1950s, a subculture dubbed the “Teddy Boys” popularized yaourtama—the act of flinging yogurt at a disliked individual. Authorities responded by enacting Law 4000 in 1958, which imposed harsh punishments on yogurt‑throwers, including buzz‑cuts, torn shorts, and public parading.
The law curtailed the practice, leading to its repeal in 1983. Yet, during the austerity protests of the 2010s, yogurt‑throwing resurfaced. In 2011, BBC footage captured demonstrators pelting a Greek newscaster with eggs and yogurt outside parliament.
More recently, a disgruntled citizen approached PASOK leader Evangelos Venizelos, voiced his pension grievances, and hurled a yogurt at him. Politicians’ reactions vary, though some, like former Deputy Minister Sokratis Xindis, have declared, “The time has come for all of us to pay the price. I am ready to be thrown a yogurt.”
4 Battle Of The Oranges
Every February, the Italian city of Ivrea stages the Battle of the Oranges, a vibrant reenactment rooted in a centuries‑old legend.
According to folklore, a 12th‑century tyrant exercised the alleged right of jus primae noctis, demanding a night with Violetta, the miller’s daughter. Violetta seized the moment, beheading the lord and igniting a popular revolt that razed the castle.
Today, the legend is commemorated over three days. A young woman is crowned to embody Violetta, and a Saturday evening procession honors her. The following Tuesday at 2 p.m., armored men on horse‑drawn carts represent the tyrant’s soldiers, while roughly 4,000 participants hurl oranges at one another.
The orange‑filled melee persists for three days, concluding on Mardi Gras Tuesday. Judges award prizes to the most impressive teams, and the festivities end with Violetta overseeing the burning of the scarlo, a bush‑laden pole. A swiftly‑burning scarlo is believed to herald good luck for the year ahead.
3 Flour War
The French Revolution is often portrayed as a peasant uprising against the extravagance of Louis XVI. Yet, seeds of unrest were sown well before 1789.
After ascending the throne in 1774, Louis appointed Anne Robert Jacques Turgot as controller‑general of finances. Turgot’s inaugural directive to the king emphasized “no bankruptcy, no increase of taxation, no borrowing.”
Unfortunately, France was ill‑prepared for such austerity. Turgot liberalized grain pricing, leaving it to market forces during a poor harvest, which caused prices to soar. Compounding the crisis, he sold the royal grain reserves for cash.
On 27 April 1775, the public’s expectations of lower prices after a new grain influx were shattered when prices rose over 20 %. Outraged, citizens dunked a merchant in a fountain and slashed prices themselves, sparking more than 300 riots that lasted three weeks. This tumultuous episode became known as the Flour War.
2 Punkin Chunkin
The World Championship Punkin Chunkin showcases arguably the most firepower‑intensive food‑fight on the planet, as teams vie to launch pumpkins the farthest distances.
Over a hundred pumpkin‑hurling machines compete across various categories. Air‑cannons, which propel pumpkins through long metal tubes using pressurized air, dominate the leaderboard, with the current record standing at 1.43 km (0.89 mi).
American Chunker Inc., the record‑holding squad, blends expertise from mechanical engineers to horticulturists specializing in pumpkins. Their award‑winning shot, fired from a 30‑meter (100‑foot) cannon, sent a pumpkin soaring at supersonic speed.
Besides air cannons, many teams employ medieval‑style catapults reaching nearly 900 m (3,000 ft), while others use centrifugal devices that fling pumpkins like discus throws.
Perhaps the most inventive participants rely on human‑powered contraptions, requiring a person to generate the launch energy. One notable team even placed an unlucky member on a hamster wheel for “two minutes of torture” to power their shot.
1 Pea Shooting
Cambridgeshire hosts arguably the most refined food‑fight worldwide. No mess, no splatter—just precise, green peas fired at clay targets.
Since 1971, the World Pea Shooting Championships have drawn competitors from around the globe. While children may take part, the contest primarily showcases serious adult sharpshooters.
The rules are strict: each gun must be no longer than 30 cm (12 in), and peas must be discharged from a distance of 4 m (12 ft) toward the target. This framework leaves ample room for creativity; some entrants arrive equipped with laser‑guided apparatuses, sparking debate among traditionalists.
Among the champions, Emma Watson stands out, clinching the Ladies’ Championship in 2011 and finishing runner‑up in 2013. Though she now pursues a different career, other competitors remain dedicated year‑round. Ian Ashmeade, winner of the 40th and 41st championships, even authored a book on the sport after his 2011 triumph, though a chapter titled “How I will be 1st in 2012, the 42nd World Championship” never came to fruition.