Lots of folks ask what retirement is like.
Some days I answer, “Every day is a Saturday.”
“Hours of being on hold with Medicare, Social Security, etc.” is my occasional grumpy response.
But yesterday, my truthful confession was, “Retirement? I had my first drink before 9 a.m.”
Now hold on a minute. Don’t rush to intervene. My sips were the culmination and celebration of a 70-day project: home-brewed Meyer Lemon Limoncello.
Remember all of those luscious lemons ML produced? Well, that fruit was so special to me that besides sharing it, I wanted to honor it.
My gardening buddy Barb suggested making Limoncello. I remembered my friend Karen in Kutztown whispered once that she always kept a bottle of Limoncello in her freezer. I think we had a nip or two. But make it? I decided to investigate.
Although Italian nonnas have been making lemon-flavored liqueur for more than a century, it wasn’t until 1988 that Massimo Canale of Capri registered the trademark, Limoncello. I decided to email my Italian cousin Luca to get the lowdown and perhaps a family recipe.
“… I’m an expert only when it comes to drink it… I don’t know how to make it! 🙂 … Anyway here is the link to a reliable site: https://www.giallozafferano.com/recipes/limoncello-lemon-flavored-liqueur.html
Thanks, Luca. I followed Giallo’s simple recipe with my five large organic Meyer lemons, sugar, filtered water and 151-Proof Everclear. (By the way, if you ever want to shave off the years, walk into a Wine & Spirits store and ask where the “grain alcohol” is. You’ll feel 21 before you get the words out of your mouth.)
Step 1: Surprisingly, all I needed from the organically-grown Meyer lemons was thin strips of the peel (no bitter white pith). I placed the peels in a large glass jar, poured in the alcohol, screwed on the top, and stashed my stash in the cool, dark pantry closet. I counted out 30 days on the calendar and circled Dec. 18, 2021. I then halved each naked lemon, juiced it, and froze the juice in an ice cube tray to use in soups, dressings and other recipes.
Step 2: I made the sugar syrup, added it to the lemon peel-alcohol jar, and stuck it back in the pantry for 40 days. Circled Jan. 26 on my 2022 calendar.
Step 3: Removed the jar from the closet, shook it well, and poured the contents through a strainer, collecting the liqueur in a metal bowl. Then, using a funnel so I wouldn’t drip a drop, I poured the Limoncello into smaller bottles to be kept in the freezer. There was a little left over, so it ended up in one of my Nonna’s cordial glasses. Time to sample. Mmm, the sweet nectar of retirement. Cin cin! Laurie Fedon Lynch
Groundhog Day Repeat: I know it’s still January, but yesterday I got a package in the mail containing a copy of my Fleur-de-Shadow post from 2011. Eleven years ago, and it popped its head out of the snow-covered landscape. But the best part is that it accompanied a sealed bag of Groundhog Cookies lined up like soldiers, wrapped in bubble wrap, and not a one was broken. The cookies were baked in memory of my mom by Nancy, who used to work at The Country Sampler and now calls Maryland her home.
Crispy or Chewy? This little note was also included in the package, and made me smile. “Which camp are you in? Over the years I have learned that many folks are downright passionate about the “crunch factor or lack of” when it comes to these little guys… If by chance, your cookies show up a bit too crispy from their long journey to your mail box simply slip an apple slice or a piece of white bread in the bag for a few hours and voila… If you are in the crispy camp… pour yourself a cuppa coffee and you’re good to go.”
Casting My Ballot: Crispy and Chewy and Dunked in a cup of Sleepytime Tea (at night) or Café Lemont’s Mt. Nittany Blend home-brewed coffee in the a.m. The dunked portion of the cookie just melts in your mouth with molasses goodness.
Fleur-de-Blog 