You can have some of my Limoncello ello ello

Somehow, I got it in my head this year that homemade Limoncello would be a good Christmas gift. It looked so yummy in the magazine, all wrapped up in pretty bottles, like lemonade - with
a kick. Plus, the recipe looked so simple (besides the whole "Cover and let stand at room temperature for 2 weeks" part). So, off to the grocery store I went filling my cart with lemons, sugar, decorative glass bottles, and festive ribbons.

The next stop was the local ABC store, which I cannot enter without turning slightly red, avoiding eye contact with the clerk, and smirking uncontrollably. It's like I'm in college all over again as I cruise down the aisles looking for vodka and this:

Whoa dogs. Anytime a recipe includes grain alcohol, you know it's gonna be good. I haven't seen a bottle of Everclear in about 10 years, and even then the memory is marred with an inexplicable feeling of blackness and spinning, and just thinking about it makes me start looking for a place to barf. Good times...

So, once I got home, I began peeling all the lemons by hand, 28 of them total. Lemons are frickin hard to peel! It's not like oranges or grapefruits where you can just peel it all off in one piece. No, the stupid lemons peels are super-glued on, and so centimeter by centimeter I worked, and was so relieved when I was done.

But before I added all the alcohol, I just wanted to double check the recipe from a different source. So, I googled Limoncello and found this and this, two great recipes, both of which stress making sure to use a very sharp knife to peel only the yellow "rind" off the lemon, leaving off all the the bitter white stuff, the "pith". The Limoncello will be bitter if the white pith is left on, so be sure to take meticulous care to remove it all. Um....crap. So, reading my magazine again, it doesn't say anything about pith. Stupid light cooking bastards.

So, back I went to my bowl of peels, to rip all the pith off the rind piece by piece. I now know why people who cook a lot buy those gel mat thingys for their kitchen floors, my back was killing me. I was all hunched over and my hands cramped up, standing there for hours peeling pith, piece by piece. I am also much more aware of the delicate bond that holds fingernail to finger.

But after all that effort, I have to admit, the yellow rinds looked rather pretty in my red mixing bowl (this is only the first half of the lemons - my hands were too crippled by the end to take any pictures).


What's that you say? Still some white left? Bite my ass.

I don't think I would have survived the Limoncello making experience without the help of my assistant, Chocolate Chip. Thanks, Chocolate, you're always there for me when I need you most.


So, now the pith-reduced rinds are soaking in a vat of vodka & Everclear on my countertop and we have only one more week to go before I get to taste the lemony goodness. Oh, by the way before I forget, while I was at the liquor store I picked up a bottle of real Limoncello just to see what it's supposed to taste like. It was disgusting. So, if mine is disgusting too, than I'll know I did it right. Cheers!


Disclaimer:
Never take a Limoncello recipe from an Irishwoman. A Hot Toddy, on the other hand, is a whole different story.