Why and how I make (so much) limoncello

Why? Surfeit of lemons . . . and I love it!  Of course, this photo was taken a few months back.  This time of year we only have lime impersonators on the tree.  Neapolitans love their lemons -- there are trees everywhere . . . along the streets, in the parks, and, of course, backyards.  We have five lemon trees in ours along with two tangerine and two orange trees.  It's citrus overload February through April.  I do make all kinds of other things . . . marmalade, lemon cakes, citrus salad dressings . . . to reap the bounty.  But limoncello makes the sunshine last a long, long time (unless, of course, you are Danny Devito).  I didn't post this in a timely way for yard-picked lemons, but it's good timing if you want to give limoncello for the holidays. 

Here's how I make it.  

Pam's Limoncello

ingredients

1 liter bottle vodka (inexpensive is okay)

1 liter of grain alcohol or everclear*

12-15 organic Meyer lemons or Sorrento lemons as the case may be

5 cups sugar

4 cups filtered water

supplies

1 3-liter glass container (I found mine at World Market)

potato peeler (sharp one!) or sharp small knife

funnel(s)

coffee filters

soup ladle

4-5 resealable bottles (Ikea has great ones)

First, pour both types of alcohol into the 3-liter glass container.  Wheeeeew! Don't get intoxicated from the fumes, especially since you will be using a sharp object now.

Use a sharp potato peeler or a small sharp knife to remove the zest or yellow skin of your lemons.  Minimize as much as possible the pith or the white underskin on your peels because the pith will cause the brew to be bitter.  Place peels in the alcohol as you work.  NOTE: Above you see the peeling was done after these lemons were juiced.  NO juice is used to make limoncello, just the zest.  I peeled for this batch post lemonade juicing -- usually we do it the other way around: zesting for limoncello first; juicing for lemonade next. I recommend that order for maximum peel and less pith.  

After depositing all the peel in the alcohol, seal the glass container and put it in a dark cabinet.  Forget about it for two weeks, four weeks, six weeks -- I've never gone longer than that.  Of course, you may want to unseal it after two weeks and take a whiff.  It should smell very lemony and have a wonderful clear yellow hue -- liquid sunshine! One of the ways to see if your distillation is ready is to fish out a peel with a fork and snap it in half with your fingers.  If it breaks like a slightly soggy potato chip, the peel has given up its essence. 

Put the 5 cups of sugar and 4 cups of water in a large pot and bring to a boil.  Stir to make sure the syrup is clear and turn off the heat.  Allow the syrup to cool to room temperature.  Place a colander over your pot and pour the alcohol into the colandar so that all the peels are collected in the colander and the alcohol mixes with the syrup.  Stir to ensure the two are completely mixed.

Now it's time to filter the brew into bottles.  It's important to filter to create a clear brew.  I was given a bottle that wasn't filtered, and there's a tendency for browning if you don't get out the sediment.  Ick!  Because it takes time for the limoncello to pass through the filter, I like to do two bottles at once (and change the filter at least twice for each bottle).  Place a funnel spout into a bottle and line the funnel with wet unbleached coffee filter (wetting the filter first decreases loss of precious liquid sunshine!).  Begin ladling the limoncello into the funnel.  When the liquid starts to slow or stop passing through, change the filter.  

After every precious drop has found its way into a bottle,  it's time to stand back and admire your work.  

But you are not finished yet!  Proper brewing requires more setting time.  Place your bottles in a cool, dark place and let them rest for at least two weeks.  Then it's time to put one in the freezer . . . and have at the ready for all kinds of special events, like watching Project Runway, getting the kids to bed, and, my favorite, a nice sunset.

Salute!
















* I understand there are some puritanical places (usually where moonshine is made) that don't sell grain alcohol, use 2 liters of vodka in this case.  The Neapolitans use ALL grain alcohol (which is twice the proof of vodka).  I found this voltage a bit too high for me.  Of course, when using the pure vodka concoction, you should pour yourself a double. ; )

Cooking up a snow storm!

In returning to Naples, we went from this:

To this:

But I was still in an Alsatian/Schwabian mood . . . and needed to make do with what was already in the freezer/fridge.  So here's what I came up with for dinner on Monday night without nipping out to the corner shop (though Jon did bring home some milk). And I know not everyone has heavy cream sitting in the fridge (unopened) all week . . . but that stuff really lasts with all that butterfat in it!

Pork and Potato Gratin

1 lb boneless pork loin chops, cut into cubes

3 slices of bacon

2 tbsns oil

2 medium onions diced

2 cloves garlic

1/2 tspn salt

Ground pepper to taste

1/2 cup white wine

1/2 cup heavy cream 

5 large potatoes sliced into 1/4 in. thick rounds

Munster cheese, slices or grated

Fry the bacon with oil in large frying pan.  Remove and cut or crumble into small pieces return to pan with onions, garlic and pork.  Sauté until until onion is transparent and pork is beginning to brown. Add salt and pepper to taste.  Turn off heat.  Put a little of the meat mixture into one end of a buttered casserole dish, layer potatoes on a diagonal over it.  Continue adding layers across the casserole, gauging amounts so that you cover the entire bottom of the casserole.  

Put the pan over heat again and deglaze it with the white wine.  Turn off the heat and add the cream, stirring. Pour the cream mixture over the potatoes and pork.  Layer Munster slices or sprinkle grated cheese over the casserole.  Bake at 350 degrees F for approximately 45 minutes until potatoes are tender and cheese is bubbly and browned.

Red Cabbage with secret ingredient

1 medium head red cabbage, chopped

1 diced onion

2 stalks celery chopped

1 granny smith apple peeled and chopped

3 tbspn butter

1 cup apple cider vinegar

1 cup water

1 tspn salt

2 tbspn brown sugar

2 large lebkuchen cookies crumbled (or 5 gingersnap cookies)

Melt butter in large frying pan. Sauté red cabbage, onion, celery, and granny smith apple in butter until softened (about 5 minutes).  Add cider vinegar, water, brown sugar, cookie crumbs, and salt and pepper.  Cover and simmer for about 40 minutes to an hour.  

I was happy to debut my new Soufflenheim bowl with an appropriate dish.  Please let me know if you give these a try.  There weren't leftovers of the gratin in my house . . . but Jon happily took some red cabbage  with him for lunch the next day.