So, I’m seventy-five percent through with this first batch of Limoncello-making, and I’m getting antsy as to what my lemon skins are currently looking like stored away under my cabinet, in 90 proof alcohol. I’m guessing all the skin brain cells are in lala land and feeling quite good at the moment.

Today though, I couldn’t take it any longer.  I had to see. While my girls napped this afternoon, I tiptoed to my cabinet and gingerly pulled out the aluminum-foiled and Saran-wrapped glass bowl where my pretty little “organic” lemon skins have been soaking in grain alcohol.

With the bowl securely on the counter, I peeled away at the aluminum foil and plastic and inhaled deeply. I smelled lemons of course, and then something else…wait, rubbing alcohol? The aroma was so fragrant that my pores opened up. Suddenly, I visualized this voice in my head,

You got to be kidding me?

“Orson Welles, go away.  I’m just checking to see my progress. “

Again the voice boomed, “….no wine before its time.”

“It’s Limoncello!” I screamed with my fist toward the ceiling.

Then, quiet.

I dipped my finger in this wonderful concoction and smiled. Good, I thought. I can only imagine what it will really taste like when I add the water and sugar part or the “simple syrup”.


(If you look closely, the alcohol has taken up a golden color. It is clear too.  All the pictures I’ve seen on the internet show just this.)



I’m excited now. I hurriedly covered the bowl again and placed it back under the cabinet. Three more days and the simple syrup and lemon alcohol will unite as one in a marriage of flavorful bliss.

“Orson Welles, eat your heart. There will be no Limoncello, before its time.”

Until next time…

Be well. Be safe. Be happy.