Limeoncello, Part 2

Way back when, I talked about starting Limeoncello (after finding some great lemons at the market in Umbertide). Now, the seasons have passed, and it’s time to harvest the Limeoncello. First, take a look at the deep yellow (almost amber) hue it’s taken on, now that the lemons, spirit, and sugar have mingled with time and Italian air:

I had to work a number of straining options, as I couldn’t track down any cheesecloth at any of our local markets (I was going to just go ahead and use pantyhose, but then thought that I didn’t want to tarnish any of my favorite hose). I first strained the larger lemon peels out via a colander, and then double strained it through my fine strainer (which you know I brought if you read six bar tools I’m taking to Italy):

the straining worked pretty well (though maybe it’s a wee nudge more cloudy than if cheesecloth would have been used. Now, it’s just a matter of chilling and drinking (with maybe a little drinking before it’s even chilled. Hey, I can tell you the truth, right?):

Limeoncello, Part 1

Limeoncello is one of the great Italian contributions to the liqueur world (and when I say “one of” I mean one of the, say, 569). The sun god of Italian liqueurs, limeoncello is golden, glowing, and regal, taken both before and after dinner. There are many er KG), I realized I should make limeoncello, instead of buying it. It’s one of the benefits of living here, asbrands, some available only here and some available here and in the states, but most (and pretty much every one available stateside) branded and professionally bottled limeoncellos aren’t as flavorsome, or as filled with umph, as the homemade varieties you find in ristorantes here, or the limoncello folks here and there make themselves. When I came across some very reasonably-priced lemons in the market the other day (1 euro per KG), I realized I should make limeoncello, instead of buying it. It’s one of the benefits of living here, as opposed to visiting. So, we bought a bunch of lemons::

peeled them (Nat did, that is):

added the peels to a big glass container:

and then added grain alcohol (or vodka) and put them in a dry spot away from sun for a couple weeks before we’ll add the sweetener:

I can hardly wait for that first chilled glass.

PS: The recipe followed is generally the one from Luscious Liqueurs, my book of homemade liqueurs, in case you want to make your own limeoncello, which you should.