One thing I’ve learned as a military wife, we ladies can eat. Or, as we say in military jargon, we can put away the chow. We dig in at potlucks, buffets, sit-down dinners, picnics, meetings, play groups, barbecues, luncheons and fundraisers. You name it and we’ve got a fork ready.

Which brings me to my dilemma: food protocol. For example, if you stuff your face with Cheetos at the FRG meeting, do you then shake the extended hand of Command Sgt. Maj. So-and-So, knowing full well you will transfer orange film onto his palm?

Or do you choke down your Cheetos with orange soda, fumble for a napkin and mumble on and on about how Wet Wipes and Cheetos need to be marketed together and if they were, you wouldn’t be in this predicament and you would be able to perform a simple greeting custom that dates back to ancient civilization?

Food, glorious food, brings us together in times of celebration and sorrow. In a country with a 24-hour cable channel dedicated to food (The Food Network) and festivals celebrating everything from the butterbean to the jalapeno, is it any wonder military gals love to nosh?

But in the food decorum department I’ve had more misfires than the World War II Tommy gun. Food can be a great conversation starter at parties. Unless I’m the one starting the conversation.

Me: “Holy Moly that’s good guacamole!”
Woman No.1: “I don’t eat green foods.”

Me: “Wow! This is yummy chicken salad!”
Woman No.2: “Uh, that’s actually tuna salad.”

Me: “Mmmmm…. This lamb is delish!”
Woman No.3: “That lamb had a mother.”

Me: “These crackers are to die for!”
Woman No.4: “They’re Ritz, you idiot.”

At this point I usually move on to the spiked punch.

My mother, also a military wife, had her own egad-meal-moment (must run in the family) many years ago at Fort Knox, Ky. It went like this:

Mom: “This is delicious, I must have the recipe!”
Snobby Lady with Attitude: “I…do not….share….recipes.”

Which brings up a good food protocol point: to share or not to share?

I posed that question to Lisa “Hungry Girl” Lillien, author of the recently released “Hungry Girl” recipe book (www.hungry-girl.com). Lisa is a Weight Watchers columnist and appears regularly on “Extra!” and in People’s Style Watch. Lisa isn’t a nutritionist or a chef, she’s just hungry. That qualifies her to be an honorary military spouse.

Me: “Is it ever okay not to share a recipe?”

Hungry Girl: “No! I don’t believe in that. I have heard stories about people giving out recipes and leaving out key ingredients, but I don’t understand that at all.”

Perhaps the one exception to the share rule should be my Army wife friend, Amy, who has been accused of being stingy with her recipes. “I have some very old family ones that I make, but do not share,” she said. “As the one time I did, I found it in the battalion cookbook under that person’s name!”

Recipe scandals aside, I love to collect those recipe books sold as unit fundraisers. Where else will you find “Airborne Honey Bun Cake,” “Semper Fi Lemon Bars,” “DMZ Colcannon Irish Mashed Potatoes,” “Air Assault Artichoke Dip,” and “Army Green Jell-O Salad”?

Which got me thinking about renaming an old Army staple…

Me: “You have lots of great, fun names for your recipes. Would you ever eat something called S.O.S. (S*** On a Shingle)? It’s the military’s creamed beef on toast, which is served in the mess halls and in my house every Christmas morning. In today’s military, S.O.S. is a politically incorrect name, but “creamed beef on toast” just doesn’t have the same oomph. Do you have any snazzy name suggestions I can send up the flag pole?”

Hungry Girl: “I’m not sure creamed beef is an HG-friendly meal, but I’d try it for sure. I don’t think it’s the best name. Other potential names: “Creamy-Beefy Toast,” “Open-Faced Beefy Surprise,” “Ooey Gooey Beef Toast,” “Creamy Beefy Crisps.” Hmm, not sure any of these work. Maybe your name is best after all.”

I had one last question — a confession, actually, for Hungry Girl.

Me: “I once totally forgot I had to bring a dish to my husband’s commander’s house, so I placed tortilla chips on a fancy plate and dumped an already opened jar (yikes, it was newly opened, but still…) of salsa into a bowl, sprinkled some shredded cheese on top and placed it in the center of the chips plate and off we went. Should I be praised for my quick thinking or placed under house arrest for the next potluck?

Hungry Girl: “Well — that depends. Was that pre-opened salsa jar involved in any double-dipping violations before it was dumped on the chips? If so, house arrest it is! If not — all is good.”

Me: (uncomfortable silence) “I think I’ll go stuff my face with Cheetos.”