When life gives you lemons, make limoncello.

Yes, it's true. Life has been deluging us with lemons lately.  Ernie and Libby started the cascade a good month ago when they stopped by our apartment with a gift of lemons from their daughter's tree.  They were huge. (The lemons that is. Ernie is a regular and Libby is petite.) Theirs were the most perfect examples of lemondom that I had ever seen.  

And further, the lemon trees here at Waitakere Gardens have produced prolifically, possibly prodigiously, this year.  Lemons have been offered on the produce carts in the Atrium for several weeks now, and at least once a week, I have deposited my gold coin and pocketed a few.  

But the question was raised of course, as both our fruit bowl on the table and the crisper drawer in the fridge started filling with yellow, what are we going to do with all this bounty?  You can't eat them like you do an orange, and we can only drink so much lemonade.  Hmmm. 

Of course, as always, Jeanne had the solution well in hand.  Preservation, that was the key. She started simply, by juicing a few of those giant lemons and freezing it in ice cube trays. Now we have a sandwich bag of lemon ice cubes. (Think gin and tonic with a lemon cube.) 

Next, she ratcheted up her efforts by turning out a couple of batches of marmalade.  The first was regular, the second was flavored with brandy. Both were roll-your-eyes-and-spread-it-on-a-little-thicker, good. The really cool thing about lemons is that the insides yield the juice, while the skins give up the peel and zest for the marmalade. Talk about a win/win fruit.    

Then, she turned her talents to producing lemon syrup. This stuff is outstanding.  You can see that the jar is already showing signs of usage. Think of the best lemon meringue pie you've ever tasted, and kick that up a notch or two. That syrup takes hold of your tongue, gives it a twist, and shouts, "I am lemon, taste my roar!"  

The syrup can be used in any number of ways.  Add a spoonful to a mini can of club soda and you have a fizzy lemonade, pour some over yogurt or ice cream, or add it to a cup of green tea and sooth your winter-weary throat.  

I think though, that Jeanne's finest moment came one evening as we sat around after dinner.  Maybe she was thinking that she wanted 'a little something,' to sip.  A digestif, you know. I saw her eyes light up and she said, "Limoncello. That's what we should make."  We both remembered the bottle of Limoncello that our friend Kim had brought us when she returned from her trip to Italy.  That was the first time we had tried it. 

I caught on immediately.  It was the work of moments to bring up Whisky and More, my favorite online liquor store and order some vodka, the ingredient that would form the base of our elixir.  

The first job after the vodka arrived, was to peel only the zest from the lemons, being careful not to get any of the white layer. Then, into the vodka with the flakes for three weeks.  This picture was taken after only 24 hours but you can already see a yellow tinge starting.  When it's ready to move to the next step, it will be a beautiful yellow throughout.  

So, that's the post for today and the story of this year's lemon season.  As you can tell from the picture of the tree above, the season is winding down.  Most of the lemons (and oranges too) have been picked.  We will miss them when they are no longer available in our Atrium.  

Still, our limoncello will take five or six weeks to produce and when it is ready, its flavor will recall the days when we had trees full of fruit.  

I've told a few friends about our limoncello project, and word is getting around the village. I can foresee a dance/social event sometime in the future when Jeanne and I will contribute a bottle of it for sharing around the room. That will be a delight for all of us.    -djf