Lately, I’ve been hearing a lot about The Novel Cure by Susan Elderkin and Ella Berthoud, a book of literary “prescriptions” to alleviate whatever ails you. I know this sounds a little impulse-buy-at-the front-table-of –Barnes-&-Noble-ish, but two facts caught my attention: 1) the authors do not limit themselves to the illnesses of the mind that you might expect, but also bridge the gap between physical discomfort and psychological panacea (they suggest Shantaram for constipation, for instance), and 2) the book is indexed both by illness and book, for handier use as an actual reference. I really am going to try their suggestion for “Dinner Parties, Fear of.”
Why don’t we already have something similar for food? There are homeopathic guides, of course, but I’m thinking more of something that would tell me the perfect dish to cure my headache or the muscle strain in Jason’s shoulder. For instance, preparing and eating bibimbop will rid you of hangnails. Actually, that’s not true, but I’m not saying that I want to write this book; I just want to have it at my disposal.
In fact, the only recipe that I could think of that wears its medicinal target baldly on its sleeve is the Down in the Dumps Pudding that my mother used to bake at the end of summer vacation to usher in the first day of school. Though I grew up in the Midwest, this is a very British use of the word pudding–more of a cake, if you ask me. It’s a molten chocolate number that should be eaten hot, so make sure that you’re adequately depressed to take on the whole pan or have some friends around to help you polish it off. Either way, you should feel better by the time it’s gone.
Down in the Dumps Pudding
Beat together:
2 cups flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
4 T. cocoa
Stir in:
1 cup milk
4 T. vegetable oil
2 cups chopped nuts
Spread mixture in an ungreased 9″ x 13″ pan.
Blend in small bowl:
2 cups packed brown sugar
1/2 cup cocoa
Sprinkle over top of batter.
Pour over all: 3 1/2 cups hot water.
Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes.
*Recipe courtesy of Nancy Dunlap.