Then again, the White House has a pretty dark curtain around it when it comes to the care and feeding of its inhabitants. The new National Geographic doesn’t do much to pull that thing back, but I did absorb the chilling fact that the chef will sometimes “stop in at a local butcher on the way to work and pick up a last-minute chop for the President’s dinner.” Might be safer to raise a few heritage hogs out on the lawn the devout want turned into a victory garden. And cheaper: Who knew “the President is billed for all food consumed by his family and his personal guests”? Or that the sticker price shock kicks in because “you’ve got world-class chefs — the garnishes they put on foods, the way they dress them up, it’s like eating in a restaurant”? The real lipstick on the pig must have been the Per Se-style sevruga caviar on the Chimp’s hot dogs.