Ah, May! Fond memories of parades in Red Square and Stalin blowing kisses at everyone. And I have other memories of May.

Many years ago when I was between wives I was dating a lovely lady who was a convinced believer in platonic relationships leading to a touch of frustration on my part.

Being a tenacious chap and an optimist I decided that Napoleon's adage than an army traveled on its stomach would help me out romantically.

A good spring meal, blood warming wine and jovial companionship would loosen the floodgates of affection. I got in touch with my amorata and suggested that since it was spring, I would love to cook a spring meal in celebration of it.

She said this was a nice idea but as her apartment was too small she would call a girl friend who lived in Foggy Bottom. I said great, I would bring my pal Dr. Greed.

On the appropriate Saturday spring evening, I collected Harold, my ingredients and beverages. We headed downtown to D.C. arriving with bags of goodies.

Everything went fine. The table was set, introductions were made and then I hustled into the kitchen.

I made a salad of fresh, cold jumbo asparagus with marinated artichoke hearts, sprinkled with crumbled feta and splashed with balsamic vinegar and virgin olive oil (I am sure the only virgin in the place). Boiled up little red bliss potatoes which would be served with green onions blended into sour cream.

Then I sautéed Bockwurst (veal sausages seasoned with chives) in butter and washed it all down with Riesling.

The meal finished with strawberries soaked in cognac and topped with whipped cream.

Mellow time had arrived. Conversation was flowing when I suddenly heard a screech. My amorata was yanking Dr. Greed off of her girlfriend, and she threw herself on her and screamed, "That is my woman, you dirty man!"

Anyway, the food and drink were good.

Dr. Greed and I left in a hurry. My romance went down the disposal and my hopes were shattered.

So much for May.

Reprinted with permission from Talk of the Towne, Gaithersburg, Maryland, May 2000.

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