WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS

he Italian word limoncello is one of those words that make me feel like an Italian as the two syllables — limone and cello — simply roll off the tongue as smoothly as the popular Italian lemon liqueur itself.

Traditionally served at the end of a meal, straight from the freezer in a well-chilled shot glass, the liqueur is a combination of many flavours in one. Firstly the wonderful aroma and zing of fresh lemon, followed by an almost lemonade sweetness tricking one to think that it’s merely a cooldrink and finally the wake-up call; a boozy kick of vodka that inevitably calls for a second round.

My love affair with limoncello began when Italian friends, both excellent cooks, proudly shared their homemade version of the liqueur after a particularly good meal — and then refused to part with their “secret” recipe and so my determination to make my very own limoncello was set in motion.

Surprisingly it’s incredibly simple to make and only uses the zest of lemons, not the fruit, which is steeped in vodka for a couple of weeks, then strained to remove the zest and combined with a sugar syrup and left in a dark cupboard to mature. The catch, as with making all homemade liqueurs, is that it’s a time-consuming process requiring the patience of a saint. When making a batch I can’t resist checking on the brew every day, soaking up the aromas which become more lemony and boozy as each day passes. Making your own limoncello comes with a warning as you’d be forgiven for thinking that perhaps your concoction is really a large quantity of urine (withouth the smell!) as the yellow of the lemon peel slowly starts leaching into the vodka. Take heart, because at this stage, it can only get better.