A HARTE APPETITE: HALLOWEEN TREATS: LEND A HELPING HAND AND JOIN IN ON THE HOLIDAY FUN THIS YEAR

The jack-o'-lantern, of which you're likely to see several this weekend, is the direct result of perhaps the ultimate Halloween prank. According to Irish folklore, it symbolizes a man who was clever enough to trick the devil himself.The original Jack, goes the story, was a blacksmith who duped Satan into climbing a tree and then carved a cross in its trunk, making it impossible for him to come back down. Having the upper hand, he extracted from the devil the promise that he would never take Jack's soul. Years later, when Jack finally died, he was denied admittance to heaven because of his evil ways. But he could not be admitted to hell either because of the very bargain he had made with the devil."But where can I go?" asked Jack. "Back where you came from," replied the devil. When Jack pleaded for a light to help him find his way through the dark, the devil tossed him a live coal straight from the fires of hell. To keep it from going out, Jack put it inside a hollowed-out turnip. Ever since, he has been doomed to roam the darkness with his lantern. And the jack-o'-lantern, brought to the New World where the more readily available pumpkin replaced the turnip, has become the symbol of Halloween.As this story demonstrates, tricks, as much as treats, are an integral part of All Hallows' Eve. That's why the Los Angeles Department of Animal Services bans adoptions of black cats during the last week in October. Granted, most pranks are not as consequential as the one played by poor Jack, but even relatively harmless ones, like giving the kids at your door stovetop stuffing instead of candy, can verge on the downright cruel. A couple of years ago, for example, PC World magazine sent out e-mail messages telling people to click on the magazine's Web site. When they did, they received a message saying a virus had been unleashed and all files were being destroyed. It was a hoax, but lots of people weren't amused.More innocent was the prank perpetrated by Cornell University students in 1997. Somehow they managed to place a large pumpkin atop the school's 173-foot-tall bell tower and create a media sensation. Concerned about safety, campus officials now routinely increase security in the vicinity of the tower this time of year.Occasionally, people even play pranks on themselves. Thus, last year Cheryl Mitchell of Mission Valley, Calif., managed to lock herself in the Mount Hope Cemetery in San Diego on Halloween night, a first so far any anybody knows. And sometimes what has the appearance of a prank isn't one at all. Thus, patrons of a sports bar in Denver put themselves at even greater risk last year when they mistakenly assumed that a robber's directive to get on the floor was really an early Halloween stunt. Just as bad are pranks which people don't realize are ones, as Orson Welles learned in 1938 during what may have been the greatest Halloween prank of all, his radio broadcast of "War of the Worlds." The best pranks, of course, are neither dangerous, mean-spirited nor subject to misunderstanding, but just plain fun. Last year, for instance, the San Diego Symphony's Halloween-night concert featured Berlioz's "March to the Scaffold" guest conducted by Medical Examiner Brian Blackbourne. A disembodied head rolled across the stage at the finale. As an encore, the symphony's conductor, Matthew Garbutt, who had been wheeled on stage in a coffin made out of a bass case, led the orchestra in a rendition of "Monster Mash." Good-natured fun like that has always played a part in Halloween. At the turn of the century, for example, tipping outhouses was a popular sport on Halloween night. Indeed, some experts believe that the current custom of trick-or-treating, which started in the 1930's (the phrase itself was not introduced until 1941), was instituted as an attempt to curb and replace potentially destructive youthful pranks.Pranks are a form of what anthropologists call inversion rituals, rites wherein less-powerful people are allowed to break the rules and reverse the usual order of things. Thus, at Halloween, children dress like adults and violate the social code by "threatening" their elders for candy.Perhaps it's because adults want to get in on this fun themselves that Halloween is increasingly becoming an adult holiday. Along with Super Bowl Sunday and New Years Eve, it has become one of the most popular party dates in America. According to the International Mass Retail Association, fully one-third of all adults will don Halloween costumes this year helping to make Halloween second only to Christmas in holiday spending. In California (where else?) there are even year-around Halloween stores.So this year, why not some culinary pranks? After all, food and superstition often go hand in hand. For example, in the Middle Ages, garlic was worn to fend off vampires. In old New Orleans, banana plants were thought to bring good luck. Even today to get off to the right start a new homeowner is advised to bring a loaf of bread and some salt into the house before moving in anything else.Culinary pranks, just like others, run the gamut from the harmless to the harmful. The proverbial brownies laced with Ex-Lax obviously fall into the latter category. Moreover, some recipes, though intended to be taken seriously, seem inherently prankish. For example, a few years ago scientists at Iowa State discovered that earthworms are higher in protein than T-bone steak and developed an array of recipes using insects. Among the tempting delights were banana bread with dry roasted army worms, Jell-O with leafhoppers, rootworm beetle dip, and chocolate chip cookies with crickets. I've yet to get up the nerve or the appetite to try them, but it's worth noting that in Mexico caterpillars are considered a delicacy, and in Thailand they like to eat giant waterbugs.Stranger still is the luwak coffee of Sumatra. The luwak is a foxlike creature that steals into coffee plantations, eats the finest coffee berries, and leaves behind nondigestible components as droppings. The droppings are then washed and roasted and turned into coffee (I'm not making this up) which sells for $300 a pound. National Geographic says it is superb. I suppose it is good to the last dropping, but it still sounds like a prank to me.And then there are those pranks inadvertently played on us by cookbook writers who, along with their editors, are not as careful as they should be. The number of errors in cookbooks is actually more common than you might think. Marian Burros, a cookbook author who once published a recipe listing an ingredient that was never referred to again in the directions, calls them "the publishing world's dirty little secret." When you consider that every line of a recipe presents an opportunity for a mistake, you realize how easy it is to unwittingly play a prank on a reader. (I still turn red with embarrassment when I recall the time a lady, in the middle of making a recipe she found in this column, called my home to ask at what temperature she should set her oven. To my chagrin I had left out that information!)But the sort of culinary prank I have in mind for this Halloween is a recipe which, consistent with anthropological interpretation, breaks the rules by calling for something unusual, but turns out pretty good in spite of it. Some such offbeat recipes, like Campbell's tomato soup cake or Ritz cracker mock apple pie, are legendary. So if you're interested in having a little culinary fun this Halloween, consider the following kitchen pranks. They're perfect for Halloween because each of them is both a trick and a treat at the same time.Sauerkraut Surprise CakeIf you don't tell your guests what's in this cake, they'll probably think it's just coconut. If you do tell, it's probably best to wait until they've had a piece. The recipe is based on one in Carolyn Wyman's intriguing and aptly named "Kitchen Sink Cookbook."Ingredients:2/3 cup butter1 and 1/2 cups sugar3 eggs1 teaspoon vanilla1/2 cup cocoa2 1/4 cups flour1 teaspoon baking powder1 teaspoon baking soda1/4 teaspoon salt1 cup water2/3 cup sauerkraut, rinsed, drained, and choppedDirections: Cream butter and sugar and beat in eggs and vanilla. Sift together remaining dry ingredients and add to mixture alternately with water. Stir in sauerkraut. Spoon into two greased and floured 8-inch baking pans and bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes until tester comes out clean. Cool and frost with whipped cream.

Vinegar PieThis pie recipe, in the tradition of chess pie and Shoofly pie, is at least one hundred years old. In addition to making a delicious pie, as many cooks know, vinegar can enhance the crust, too, by weakening the gluten in the flour making rolling easier and by discouraging shrinking. This recipe is from a cherished copy of "300 years of Carolina Cooking," by the Junior League of Greenville, South Carolina, given to me by the late Ricki Brasington.Ingredients: 3 slightly beaten eggs1 and 1/2 cups sugar2 tablespoons flour2 tablespoons vinegar1 tablespoon vanilla1 stick melted butter1 uncooked pie shellDirections: Mix all ingredients and pour into pie shell. Bake at 300 degrees for about 1 hour.

Tabasco Ice CreamThis recipe, from the company that manufactures Tabasco sauce, proves that sugar and spice go very well together. For a sort of frozen mole, try a little chocolate sauce on top.Ingredients:1/2 cup milk1 cinnamon stick1 strip of orange peel4 whole cloves2 teaspoons vanilla1 can (14-oz.) sweetened condensed milk1 1/2 teaspoons Tabasco sauce2 cups heavy cream, whippedDirections: Heat milk, cinnamon stick, orange peel, and cloves over medium heat until boiling. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer 5 minutes. Cool to room temperature and strain. Combine milk mixture, vanilla, condensed milk, and Tabasco sauce. Gently fold in whipped cream, cover and freeze until firm, stirring once.Got a culinary question you'd like to ask or an idea youd like to see treated in this column? Send your suggestions to A Harte Appetite, c/o The Southeast Missourian, P.O. Box 699, Cape Girardeau, MO., 63702-0699 or by e-mail to tharte@semovm.semo.edu.Tom Harte is a professor at Southeast Missouri State University and writes a food column every other week for the Southeast Missourian.