"Beef," says Julia. "Chicken," demands Emeril. "Fish," says the Galloping Gourmet. Before long, the pot is brimming over with nearly every imaginable ingredient, and the "perfect" stew turns out perfectly dreadful.

That, more often than not, is what it's like to write a State of the Union address. Everybody wants their piece of the action – Cabinet secretaries, White House staff, political consultants, lobbyists, and the Aunt Marthas who all call with a "terrific" idea. The speechwriter's job is to keep it on broad themes so it doesn't sink of its own weight.

When working on the first President Bush's State of the Union addresses, we used to dream of taking away Chief of Staff John Sununu's telephone to keep him from agreeing to any more additions from the Cabinet.

"Another secretary called this morning," he'd say. "We can find a spot for just one more small mention, can't we?"

"No!" we'd silently scream and then, under his withering glance, look for a hole.

Sununu had a penchant for secrecy and control that often posed problems for us, but it was never more apparent than at State of the Union time. We were always asked to leave room for what we affectionately came to call "the rabbit" – as in, pulling a rabbit out of the hat. This was to be an announcement designed to give the media real meat to go with a lot of bare bones. In the end, the "meat" usually ended up small potatoes.

But there are other reasons that few State of the Union addresses are found in compendiums of America's greatest speeches. Most presidential remarks that do so earn their place in history because they made an extraordinary emotional connection with the audience at a significant moment – during war, terrible tragedy, or great achievement. The State of Union, however, is an artificial occasion, rarely coinciding with a historic event that allows for lofty rhetoric.

When it comes to presidential speechmaking, we remember FDR's "Day of Infamy" speech to Congress after Pearl Harbor. We remember President Reagan's poignant remarks after the Challenger tragedy instead of the State of the Union a week later. John Kennedy's first inaugural defined his presidency.

Very few State of the Union speeches have imprinted the national psyche to the same degree.

Roosevelt's famous "Four Freedoms" State of the Union address in 1941 is the exception. We may remember effective lines – Clinton's announcement that the "era of big government is over." Or visual effects – Reagan's "heroes" sitting in the House balcony. But most have been fairly mundane – part national report card, part sales pitch for the president's legislative priorities.

President Bush complicated our lives by scribbling in the margins of drafts the words feared by all Bush speechwriters "too much rhetoric." That was Bushspeak for any emotional language that he was uncomfortable uttering. Truth be told, his heart would often get the better of him as he tried to express his feelings in speeches, especially when talking about the men and women of the military. He simply could not get through the words.

So what does make a good State of the Union address? Writing for two quite different audiences – the American public and the Washington political class – is perhaps the biggest challenge in crafting the speech. Inside Washington, delivery matters, but the speech is always micro-judged on its policy content. Some assess the speech by how much new spending or how many new programs it contains. Not enough of either, and the president is tagged as heartless.

For others, spending cuts and less government define success. Meanwhile, the town goes into overdrive trying to decipher who's up and who's down by parsing the president's words.

Outside the Beltway, most Americans use a different prism. They ask: Does the president share my values? Did he exhibit leadership? This year, also add, does he care about the economic problems of real people and did he make me feel safer?

Oh, and did he answer these questions in less than an hour? Unlike the Beltway calculator crowd, most Americans want to leave the table satisfied but not stuffed. I would argue that when a president meets the expectations of the American people, he has succeeded.

When George W. Bush takes the podium on Jan. 29, he faces a daunting task. His post-Sept. 11 speech to Congress will make the next edition of the greatest presidential speeches in history, and that's a tough act to follow. But there is still a lot of emotion in the air, and emotion helps give a speech lift. If he addresses the economic and security concerns of the American people through their prism, he has the opportunity to define what makes a good State of the Union.

• Chriss Winston, the first woman to head the White House Office of Speechwriting (1989-91), is a director of the White House Writers Group. This piece will appear in the print edition of the Monitor on Monday, Jan. 28.