These are the treats my mom made for the Super Bowl party: spicy hot wings, layered Mexican dip (refried beans, lettuce, tomato, salsa, sour cream, Cheddar and Monterey Jack cheeses, black olives) with tortilla chips, crudite featuring baby carrots, giant green olives, broccoli and, sadly, cauliflower (pestilence in vegetable form), a cheese platter with Fontina, Dubliner and Boursin cheeses served with a variety of Carr’s biscuits, assorted flavors of potato chips, assorted mini-cheesecakes and the piece de resistance: a beer-drinkers’ cake. The beer-drinkers’ cake has become a traditional centerpiece of my family’s sports-related parties. It’s very good.

Both for the hostessy-inclined and because it bears on events later on, here is a description/recipe for beer-drinkers’ cake: take a loaf of whole (non-pre-sliced) bread or an uncut round of sourdough and slice horizontally. Spread each layer with a different sandwich spread, reassembling as you go. Mom uses chicken salad, ham salad, tuna salad, pimento cheese and egg salad; vary according to your likes/dislikes. “Frost” the reassembled loaf all over with cream cheese. Cover, chill and, when ready to serve, slice vertically like a cake. The result looks like a slice of cake, but with various sandwich spreads between the layers instead of frosting. It’s totally yummy! Also great for parties because the various sandwich meats and breads aren't sitting out drying and getting stale; plus, this way everyone gets a variety. Sourdough holds up really well with the heavy spreads but its toughness can cause a difficulty when slicing because the spreads will tend to smoosh out the side.

When we were hungry for the cake, it soon became obvious that we were going to have trouble cutting it without winding up with a pile of mush on the recipient’s plate and destroying the remainder. Finally I cut out a wedge, about 1/5 of the circle, and dumped that onto a plate which we put to one side. Then we were able to cut slices from the larger portion. Alan, Lachele and I each had a slice. Well, I had two - it's a favorite. I don’t think Dad had any at all and Mom maybe had a sliver off the removed wedge.

Once the game started, everyone migrated into the living room with plates, returning periodically for refills. Mom and I were sitting closest to the doorway when we heard a disembodied female voice from the back of the house! It was weird...we exchanged puzzled glances and a second later Lachele realized that it was her mom calling on her Nextel, which was in her bag on the dining table. We three rose and headed that way. Why Mom and I went, I don’t know - some inner instinct, perhaps, because Lachele has a doctorate and therefore can probably take a phone call without our assistance. My mom’s new dog, Bucky (solid black, weighs about 28 pounds) headed in the opposite direction as we passed.

In the living room, Dad and Alan saw Bucky trot in with an entirely white nose, mouth and muzzle (remember he's solid black?) and exchanged an “Uh-oh!” at the same time Mom and I were gazing down upon the bottom layer of beer-drinkers’ cake lying on the kitchen floor. Of the other four layers there was no trace. Well, no trace except for all the cream cheese dripping from Bucky’s snout-fur.

He’s a little dog so we don’t know how he managed to get to the cake, which was pushed pretty far toward the center of the table; the nearest chairs had been removed to the living room for additional spectator seating. A further mystery is how he managed to do it soundlessly, and yet another mystery surrounds him so quickly snarfing damn near the entire cake - I mean, how big could his tummy BE??? We cleaned up the remains and returned to the living room, lamenting the loss of the treat and consoling ourselves with dip, chips and veggies. At least we had the wedge I’d removed when we started serving the cake.

Or did we???

Yup. Bucky returned at some point, snarfed the layer he’d omitted previously and licked all the cream cheese from the sides of the wedge.

For the rest of the night, he sat beside Lachele on the love seat, looking a bit dejected, reminding me of the dude in those old Alka-Seltzer commercials. “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing!” Heh - we couldn’t believe it either.

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!