Perfect Pound Cake-get it while it's hot

Post Edit:
This recipe was temporarily housed here, but is now back in the secret files...

Last summer, the charges and I visited the Quiet Man's parents in upstate New York for a one night stop over, on the way home from Nantucket Island. A family friend, Kathy, popped by for a chat. She's the kind of friend that only knows how to say nice things and really listens when you talk, the kind of friend who brings you superlative poundcake when she knows you are about to start a cross country road trip. Kathy buys her poundcake from a woman in Rochester, New York, who has a top secret recipe that she used to finance something impressive, only I can't remember what it was, exactly. College education? Daughter's wedding? Foreclosure Rescue? That's the kind of poundcake this is. I'd never really mooned over poundcake before this one, so I initially delined a bite. But Kathy persisted because this poundcake wasn't just for tasting, this poundcake was for recipe code-cracking. After one bite, the game was afoot. We ate this poundcake in paper thin slices across Ohio, through the cornfields of Illinois. Every time I took a bite, I crumpled up my eyebrows and closed my eyes, questioning the secret make up. Buttermilk? Sour Cream? Lemon Jello? Why was this poundcake so doggone good? When we finally made it back to Utah, it was the first thing that I baked. I baked pound cakes all summer long. All of them were good, but none of them were right. I was feeling discouraged. (Chubby, too.) I set it aside for a season, almost admitting defeat. If you're going to have an Achillies Heal, it ought to be one as delicious as this pound cake. Last month, I began again in earnest. This time I cracked the case. I'm almost trembling to share it with you. Scan the ingredient list and you won't find anything unusual. Aren't most of your best recipes like that? It's not the odd ingredient that makes them special, but the perfect combination of your reliable first-string baking players. The outside of the poundcake is sweet and lemony, with a crisp exterior from the lemon glaze. The inside is moist and dense with a tight crumb and the unmistakable flavor of sweet, fresh butter. It isn't cloyingly sweet, thanks to the generous addition of tangy sour cream. I hope you'll find it to be just perfect. Print out this recipe, because it won't be sticking around here for long. It'll be off my blog by Monday morning, back into the secret files to be used in the future for my cookbook that I'm always writing, but never finishing. For now, it's yours for the baking. Enjoy!
PS Pass it on. Send your friends, relatives, dog sitters, and strangers on over!
Perfect Pound Cake
Notes: This is at its best a day after it is baked. I always cave in and eat a little warm, but since you probably have more will power than I do, try to wait.
Estimated Cost: $4.00 for one loaf
Bye, Bye recipe... You'll be back soon.
The boys are on a chess kick lately, so they ate theirs around this board, built by the Quiet Man.
Next Up:
National Cornbread Festival in South Pittsburg, Tennessee
and my Crunchtastic Chicken Chipotle Cornbread recipe