Wine Cake.

Now, I'm a decent cook. I delight in multi-day recipes and serious desserts, can whip up a 30-pound turkey and am the designated gravy-meister at my house. I pore over cookbooks and this year's variations like everybody else and can debate brining and what to do if, against Cook's Illustrated's explicit instructions, you absolutely insist on stuffing your turkey (bring it to some absurd temperature in the microwave first, of course.) And I'm not saying wine cake is what you want to make for your FCI entrance exam, or even for snootie foodies. But in all other cases, Wine Cake is a sort of O-positive of desserts.

My grandmother was the worst cook you'll ever meet - her cooking was a combination of passive-aggression and performance art and rotten ingredients and to be avoided whenever possible. The one exception was Wine Cake, which goes to show that it's fool-proof. Wine Cake is the traditional birthday cake on that side of the family, a tradition I've continued. It's one of those objectively revolting, 1950s-style recipes that makes no bones about its chemical antecedents and becomes more unfashionable every year. In a bid for respectability, I once worked out an all-natural version, but it just made me miss the original. Friends of mine have brought Wine Cake to feuding families and CIA picnics and block parties, and it's always a hit. Anyone can make it. So, without further ado, I give you:

Sherry Wine Cake

1 box yellow cake mix (I like Moist Deluxe, but grandma always used generic, so.)
1 lg. regular vanilla pudding (or just use 2 small)
1 c. oil
3/4 c. sherry wine (cheap, please)
5 eggs

Preheat oven to 350
Mix everything. Bake in a buttered-and-floured bundt pan for about 50 minutes, until the proverbial tester comes out clean.

Glaze:
1 cup powdered (confectioner's) sugar
1/2 cup sherry, or less. The point is, you want a quite liquid glaze.

Now, here is the crucial part. Without unmolding the hot cake, poke the exposed top - really the bottom! - all over, and I do mean all over, with a skewer, a chopstick, or a fork. Now, drizzle a goodly amount of glaze over the holes. It'll absorb.

Let it sit for another couple of minutes, just so it doesn't all run out. Then, unmold onto a rack. Or the serving dish, I guess, if you don't mind icing all over. If you do use the rack, do yourself a favor and put some waxed paper underneath. Now, repeat the pricking and pouring routine all over the rest of the cake. Soak it well! Now, let it cool.

After the cake is cool, I like to glaze again, this time with a thicker icing (just dump more sugar into the dregs of the glaze.) Drizzle this thicker, white icing over the cooled, glazed cake. Let firm up.

Et voila! Trust me, vile as this may sound, it's scrumptious in a mid-century sort of way. Do not dismiss it without trying it, like those most irritating of all Epicurious commenters. People will hate themselves for it, but they won't be able to stop eating it, or making it, or trying to figure out what makes it so moist. If you are a no-fun ascetic, I suppose you need not glaze quite so heavily; I must admit, my grandmother was not quite so enthusiastic in this department. But in my opinion, it's the 1/2" of sugary lusciousness - so rich and damp a cake, as Captain Hook would have it - that makes this so good. It is customary, in my family, to stick a fat pink candle in the hole. This may be omitted.

And if you just can't stomach it, here's another wonderful dessert. This one respectable. So, give: what's your fail-safe?

Shrieks "judge," critic Frank Bruni:

Less than $8.50 a person for a full dinner? I didn't see how this budget allowed for much strutting, not even from home cooks as gifted and resourceful as these two kitchen goddesses. Have I mentioned the office seating arrangement?...They took different approaches, reflecting different personalities. Kim's meal was the brasher, spicier one. It shouted "fiesta," tugging us south of the border and encouraging us to eat with our hands. It declared that no budget was too tight for an adventure - a bounteous one at that...Julia's meal was more precise and controlled. Right after a tomato-cilantro soup, served in espresso cups, came an audaciously uncomplicated salad of escarole and nothing more. Correction: there was something more, not obvious to the eye but evident to the palate. Julia had coated her perfectly washed, perfectly crisped greens with a pitch-perfect anchovy dressing. It declared that sophistication didn't have to cost a lot. Kim brandished homemade tortillas for a main course of carnitas. Julia fired back with homemade gougères before a main course of bucatini.

As a general rule, I pride myself on not resorting to the verbal laziness of profanity, but that said: Fuck that shit.

Not only is $50 for six no challenge to a cook on a normal budget (see: any issue of Taste of Home), not only is such a "competition" an insult to those of us who adhere to such constraints, not only is the raillery of the contest precious and irritating, but, the menus are too intricate for the average working person to tackle. Not the point? Maybe not - but it's a further bit of alienation for those of us who cook as a daily necessity.

No one's making a habit of this, but you want a menu? I got a menu for you. Easy, cheap, good, and real life-approved. (All serves 6-8 per challenge.)

Chicken with Smothered Potatoes:
(Adapted from Marion Cunningham)

T olive oil, extra-virgin
1 chicken, under 3 lb., butterflied
Salt and pepper, to taste
3 medium red onions, peeled and cut into quarters
8 new potatoes, cut into 1" chunks
1 T chopped fresh rosemary
2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped

1. Preheat oven to 425°.
2. Film a 9 x 13-inch baking dish with 1 T olive oil.
3. If you haven't bought a butterflied chicken: split chicken along the edge of its backbone with sharp knife. Then cut along other side of backbone and remove it. Remove fat pads from around breast and cavity.
4. Salt and pepper onions and potatoes.
5. Place potatoes in middle of baking dish.
6. Sprinkle with rosemary and garlic.
7. Flatten chicken out over potatoes.
8. Surround with onions.
9. Drizzle remaining 2 T olive oil over chicken and salt and pepper generously.
10. Roast for 45 - 50 min. or until chicken skin is nicely browned.
11. Pour off all liquid.
12. Serve hot or cold.

For vegetarians or vegans, I like this:

Root Vegetable Couscous
(From Nigella)
3 T olive oil
2 med. onions, quartered & sliced thickly
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 t each ground cinnamon, cumin & coriander
1/2 t paprika
generous pinch of saffron (if you have it around)
3 med. carrots, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
2 med. parsnips, peeled & cut into 1 inch dice
2 medium turnips, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
1 small kabocha or butternut squash, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
1/2 med. rutabaga, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
3 zucchini sliced 1/2 inch thick (you can peel if you like)
4 1/2 cut chicken, beef or vegetable stock
1/2 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes with liquid
2/3 c sultanas
1 1/2 c (14 oz each) chickpeas
salt
few drops chili oil or 1 t harissa if you have it

1/2 c pine nuts
4 c quick-cooking couscous
2 T butter

1. Heat the olive oil in a big, deep pot & turn the onions in it for a few minutes.
2. Add the garlic, cinnamon, cumin, coriander, paprika and saffron, and stir over low to medium heat for 5 minutes.
3. Add the carrots, parsnips, turnips, squash, rutabaga and zucchini and turn briskly.
4.After about 5 minutes add the stock, tomatoes, orange zest, sultanas and chickpeas. Turn again & try to get everything at least partially covered by the stock. Add more stock or water if needed. Season with salt.
5. Cook for 20-30 minutes, until the vegetables are tender but not mushy (at least not all of them - some will be beginning to fray around the edges, and that is good) and the liquid has formed a thin but not watery sauce.
6.Taste and chili oil or the harissa if you want it to have more punch.

Serve with couscous, pine nuts.

For dessert, this is good.

You'll be well under "budget." Although I can't vouch for the adventure quotient.

Old World With New Twists [New York Times]
A Mexican Feast With Artisanal Technique [New York Times]
Comrades at Arms: Two Food Writers in a Kitchen Smackdown [New York Times]

Even before Katrina, Judy Walker, the food editor of The Times-Picayune, was concerned about the decline of local cuisine, saying, “many of the recipes that were always cooked in the homes of South Louisiana are falling by the wayside." And Katrina, of course, decimated local cooks' recipe collections just as it did everything else in its path. While such a concern may seem trivial - and surely was at the time - it's sobering to realize that, sometimes, generations' worth of recipes and family history have been irrevocably lost. Walker quickly saw that her section of the paper could be of assistance.

Almost immediately, the longstanding recipe-sharing column took on a new importance. Recipe by recipe, the newspaper was going to help people rebuild those lost collections...A survivor would write in to mourn the loss of a recipe for mirliton casserole with crab meat, and another reader would supply it. It was one small way people could help.

She did not think to compile the findings until she was contacted by a woman named Judy Laine.

Mrs. Laine, 67, and her family lost their home in New Orleans under 10 feet of water. They had evacuated to an unfinished second home in Talisheek, La. When winds sent oaks crashing into that house, Mrs. Laine tripped and broke both legs. It took two days to clear the roads to a hospital. In the meantime, her husband set her legs as best he could. Mrs. Laine lost most of her clipped recipes, along with many from her mother. When the newspaper began publishing lost recipes, she wrote a letter about her storm experience to Ms. Walker, adding a suggestion.

The result was the new cookbook Cooking Up a Storm, which not only includes the recipes compiled after Katrina, but fundamentals of New Orleans cuisine and famous dishes for Nola landmarks that were felled by the storm. While this will obviously be an amazing resource, one of the first thoughts we had when reading this story was, Thank God for the internet. After all, it's at times like this that the unprecedented resource really comes in handy, not merely as means of contacting an unimaginably large group of people, but as a compendium of knowledge. What, once upon a time, would have meant the death of memories - to say nothing of recipes - now gives hope. Is this - or indeed, the cookbook - any substitute for a hand-written heirloom? Of course not. But it's quite a bit.

New Orleans Salvages Recipes Stolen by a Storm [New York Times]

• Play The Name Game Blair at Dudette in the Kitchenette brings us "Pretty Please Don't Pick Palin Peach Pie," a dessert she dubs her "very own pie named after an incredibly resilient source of misery." In fairness, Blair also encourages McCain/Palin supporters to try her tasty treat, admitting that "you could change the name of the pie to something Palin positive…I guess…if you absolutely had to."

• Go Blue Laura Weiss of the Huffington Post reports that many Democrats are going blue for their Election Night bashes, stocking up on "blue corn chips, blue potato chips, blueberries, blueberry wine, blue moon beer, blueberry pie, and blueberry ice cream." Joan Knecht of Virginia, however, isn't ready to commit to either side, as far as Election Night meals go: "I'm serving undecided stew,"Knecht says. "It's a little of this, a little of that—and hopefully it will all come out tasting good."

• Get Topical Yum Sugar suggests that you stock up on "Campaign Trail Mix," "Buffalo Chicken Left Wings," and Rachael Ray's "Lipstick Pigs in a Blanket," hors d'oeuvres that feature such elitist ingredients as apple chicken sausage and all-fruit apricot preserves.

• Run With The Meme Looking for an Obama cake? Look no further than YesWeCake.com, a site devoted to bringing you the best in Obama-themed desserts. Whether you'll be eating these sugary sweets in celebration or in shock is yet to be seen, but either way, it's always good to have a few delicious cookies lying around.

• Have a Bipartisan Bash Tanya Steel of Epicurious has designed two separate Election Night menus to please her election night guests, noting that her "campaign strategy to get them to come is to have two menus." To accomplish this, Steel created yummy offerings for both the "Illnois Party" and the "Arizona Party", ensuring that no matter what happens, a solid dinner will be served to guests of both parties. The "Illinois" menu features "Big Green Salad" and "Red Velvet Cupcakes With Creamy Vanilla Icing," and the "Arizona Party" features "Beef and Avocado Fajitas" and "Chile Brownies." And with mojitos and margaritas flowing on both sides of the aisle, it's safe to say that Steel's guests will have a pretty good time.

• 
• Play Favorites The folks at Clever Parties think it's only fitting to celebrate your candidate's big night with one of his or her favorite recipes. For McCain fans, that means a night of "Arizona Baked Beans" and "Sarah Palin's Moose Stew," which is all the more reason to vote Obama/Biden, really, for if nothing else, you'll at least be attending a party with better grub: Barack's favorite chili and Biden's preferred dessert, oatmeal raisin cookies.

Stuck for inspiration on how to give your dinner party that something extra special? Just head on over to Bert Christensen's
place, where you'll find unique recipes galore. Our favourites include penis stew, chunky cat barf and fried cow udder.

Bon appetite!

Anyone who needs to take five minutes out of their day for some laughter therapy should visit the Candyboots collection of vintage Weight Watchers cards. It's got delightfully hideous food, hilarious commentary and gems like:

"Eat it with the ashes of a loved one."

"It's a meal! It's an obsessive disorder! It's both"

"Fish snuff! Die fish, die!"

And the glorious:

"Let's just tip our heads back and let the chunks slide in."

And there are even more in the book.

From Life & Style this week, we get the official The Break-Up cocktail.

Perhaps someone who's been repeatedly beaten around the head with a shovel and then exposed to dangerous levels of toxic industrial chemicals and then beaten around the head with a shovel some more, would believe that this drink has anything whatsoever to do with the film, or Jennifer Aniston's PUBLIC PAIN AND SHAME or the fact that you just fled to the nearest bar after coming home early and finding your fiance shagging your father in your own bed and hell, you've got break-up issues of your own.

But whatever, some poor intern at Life & Style had to call 30 bartenders in one day desperately trying to get someone to give them a recipe for a cocktail that they could call the Break-Up so they could fill a space in their magazine, so why not give it a whirl.

Ingredients

1 part Starbucks Cream Liqueur
1 part Suaza Tres Generaciones Plata tequila

Directions

Pour into a shaker with ice, shake, then strain into a martini glass.

Repeat ten times, and if you're still alive, LOSER, drink a pint of bleach.