So, do you feel like your life could use a little bit more sunshine these days? Winter may be enchanting in December, and the promise and romance of the new year gets everyone off to a good start in January, but, come late February, all that cold and wet and grey just seems to hang around like a flu you can’t seem to shake.
Well, I can’t change the weather, but when I’m craving a bit of sunshine, one food that always comes to mind for me, and reliably can be counted upon to brighten my mood, is the humble lemon. I love citruses of all kinds, but lemons have a special place in my heart – they’re good in savoury and sweet dishes, they’re healthy, they’re cheap, they’re available in all seasons, and they’re easy to work with. In fact, this recipe is about as easy as recipes get – you only need four ingredients, all of which you quite possibly already have on hand, a bottle, and a bit of patience. Even that requirement of patience is the best kind of cooking patience – what I have for you today isn’t like a risotto you’re going to stir and stir, but, rather, something you mix up, and then leave alone for a while, and it does the work for you. Sound like a good deal?
After reading a whole pile of recipes, a few weeks ago, I finally took the plunge and made a batch of limoncello, the famous Italian lemon liquor, and I’m pleased to report that, not only was it a rousing success, I now have a recipe to share.
Limoncello is traditionally served as a digestif after a big meal, which is to say, a drink had after a meal to help to happily settle a full stomach, and to accompany post-meal conversation. This is a great use for this very pleasant drink, but, whenever the inevitable warmer weather comes our way, or whenever we feel like dreaming of warmer weather, it would also be a great concentrated and grown-up version of lemonade.
So, getting into the nitty gritty – the process is very simple:
- Using a kitchen knife (although a good peeler could also work), I cut the zest off of six lemons in long strips. This tends to bring some of the pith (the bitter white layer under the delicious yellow skin) along for the ride, and, unfortunately, we have no place for the pith in this recipe, so the only fidgety step here is removing as much of the pith as possible. With a sharp knife, I didn’t find this to be too difficult, but it does require a bit of the aforementioned patience. I promise – this is the only fussy step.
- Once you’ve separated the zest from the lemons, cut the zest into long, thin slices, and feed these into an empty (and clean) 500 ml glass bottle.
- Fill to the top with vodka (or any flavour neutral spirit). A note should be mentioned here about the vodka – I used 45% ABV vodka, since that’s what I can buy here in Jordan, but the more traditional approach is to use higher proof alcohol. This does two things – first of all, it extracts the flavour from the lemons more quickly, owing to the greater solvent power of the higher alcohol content, and secondly, it resists freezing more effectively than lower proof vodka, since some water is going to be added later on. I haven’t had any problems with 45% vodka, but, since limoncello is typically served straight from the freezer (and into cold glasses), you may with to use a higher proof vodka if you have one. (The LCBO sells a 76% Polish vodka called Spirytus for such purposes, and you could use a mixture of this and conventional vodka to allay any freezing fears.)
- Cap tightly, and leave to infuse for two weeks, shaking periodically (once a day, maybe).
- After two weeks, the next step is to add some strong simple syrup to complement the fruitiness of the lemon, and to ease the harshness of the vodka. For this step, add 1/2 C of white sugar into a sauce pot, then add 1/4 C of water. Heat gently, stirring periodically, until the sugar is dissolved.
- Into a pitcher, or bowl, or something convenient to pour from, add some of the syrup, and then the lemon infused vodka. For the sake of extra smoothness, I put a coffee filter into a funnel, and pour my infusion through the filter first, but this is optional. Then, add the remaining syrup, and stir to combine. (Actually, you could just add the infused vodka, and then the syrup, or vice versa, but since this syrup has higher sugar content than typical simple syrup, I didn’t want to let it cool and thicken too much before mixing it, but I also didn’t want to add near boiling hot liquid to vodka, since alcohol evaporates at much lower temperatures than water. The idea was to add some of the syrup into the pitcher, which would then cool down in the pitcher, add the vodka, and then add the rest of the now slightly cooled syrup. This worked well for me, but if you deem it too fussy, feel free to do otherwise.)
- Remove the remaining lemon zest from the original bottle (this may also require a bit of patience, depending on the shape of the bottle, but hopefully your supply of patience has recovered in the space of two weeks), and then pour your liquor into the bottle.
As of this point, you have complete and ready to drink limoncello. However, the traditional and conventional wisdom is that it will improve somewhat with the passing of a few days for the liquor and syrup to merge and marry together, and it will also benefit from chilling.
I should add, as a quick side note – with apologies to nonnas everywhere, I’m going to break slightly with tradition in suggesting that limoncello isn’t really at its best at freezer temperature. Freezing temperatures give the liquid a pleasantly thick, syrupy and viscous quality, but they also tend to mute some of the rich floral fruitiness and depth of the lemon. I found I liked the balance of flavour and texture best when I stored the bottle in the fridge, but put it in the freezer about 30 minutes before serving, but there are arguments to be made both ways – make lots, and try it both ways.
That’s it! That’s all there is between you and tasty, lemony glasses of sunshine. Salute!


