Maibowle

Maibowle belongs to the first green stretch of May, when Waldmeister, sweet woodruff, comes up in the shade and the garden table moves back into use. It is a Bowle, a wine-and-herb punch, strongest in the Rhineland, Hesse, and the south-west, but every region has its opinion. Some sweeten it properly, some barely at all. Some put strawberries in when the season catches up. Im Norden anders, im Süden anders, different in the north, different in the south.

The whole drink stands on one small piece of patience: wilt the Waldmeister half a day before it touches the wine. Fresh from the ground it smells green and shy; after wilting, the coumarin scent comes forward, that hay-and-vanilla May smell, and the wine takes the perfume without needing a long soak. Leave it too long in the bowl and you don't get more spring. You get bitterness. Das braucht seine Zeit, then it needs restraint.

I tie the woodruff in a bunch and hang the leaves into cold wine for no more than thirty minutes, keeping the cut stems out of the liquid because the stems bring the harsher green taste. Then I lift it out and stop. Nicht aus dem Glas. Bottled green syrup makes a sweet drink, not Maibowle.

Pour the sparkling wine in last so the bowl stays bright. Taste before you serve it. Sweet enough to carry the herb, sharp enough to drink with supper outside. Schon ist, was schmeckt.