Most members of the animal kingdom’s lives are consumed by food—the hunt to find it, the struggle to not become it. Our ape ancestors spent 80% of the day chewing. While civilization freed us from such shackles—only about 5% of our time today is spent eating—food remains arguably our most important input, influencing our mood, immune system, sex drive, skin, energy, and health.

In my opinion, the best way to learn about a culture is to eat their food. Could we say the same about a human? Biographers sketch extensive portraits of their subjects but often overlook the food they ate. Similarly, while international scholars furiously study world leaders like Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, and Kim Jong Un, they often neglect to examine their plates—the foods that determine, possibly more than anything else, the temperaments of history’s shapers.

I would not make such a mistake. I decided to become a gastrojournalist, fractionally fusing with my subjects by replicating their stomach contents for a day. Perhaps by eating their food I could understand their minds. And I did—I discovered how Trump’s massive McDonalds order is actually a potent source of energy, how Putin’s diet contributes to the man’s hardiness, and why North Korean cold noodles likely inflame Kim’s appetite for foreign foods.

Donald Trump

In his book, Let Trump Be Trump, campaign manager Corey Lewandowski revealed Trump’s go-to McDonald’s order: “two Big Macs, two Fillet-O-Fish, and a chocolate malted.” This peculiar and massive order caused much guffawing and revulsion in the media—2,430 calories total, what a joke!

Some journalists even decided to eat the meal themselves, ending up bloated and groaning, like a beached whale: “I did it, but at what cost? I find it hard to focus on any task at hand, and I feel rather sweaty,” wrote one. But, classically, they overlooked the most crucial aspect of the meal—Trump removes the buns.

“He never ate the bread, which is the important part,” Lewandoski elaborated on CNN. Each bun is 150 calories, meaning that by discarding them, Trump dodges 10 pieces of bread (each Big Mac has a 3-part bun) and approximately 750 calories. Lewandowski also said that Trump only ate once, and at the conclusion of the day, meaning that his total daily caloric consumption was only about 1,700 calories.

I resolved to eat Trump’s McDonald’s order the right way. I visited a nearby franchise and brought the meal home. I first tried the Filet-O-Fishes. Lewandowski has been ambiguous in how Trump consumes them, alternately implying that he eats them with the bun, with no bun, or only half a bun, so I ate one sandwich in full and removed the top bun of the other.

I next dove into the Big Macs. I first removed all the buns, six in total. I grimly flashed back to my time on the Alaskan frontier eating the “Denali Mac,” a secret regional menu item with supersized beef patties and extra special sauce. Trump’s order, in uncharacteristic fashion, goes the opposite direction, stripping the burger of its empty carbs. I grabbed a fork and knife and began shoveling forkfuls of breadless Big Mac into my mouth.