Limoncello

by Jo Anne

Limoncello is a very sweet, syrupy, and of course lemony concoction mixed with a strong alcohol.  It was invented on the Amalfi Coast and although you now find it in other places throughout Italy (we had complementary limoncello in Rome) this is its birthplace.  Our driver from the train station, Umberto, told us "The Amalfi coast is the only place that true limoncello can be made.  If you try to use a lemon from say California that is not true limoncello".  I believe him.  When we came to Positano on our honeymoon ten years ago it was the first time I tried it.  In all honestly, I tasted the BEST food I had ever had in my life here on our honeymoon.  However, I could not relate to the love of limoncello.  As honeymooners, we were offered a  complimentary limoncello at the end of almost every dinner, and inside I was always screaming "No, not the limoncello!"  You can't leave a complimentary drink untouched.  Well, it's ten years later, and we are back in this beautiful town with a few changes.  The biggest being we are with our two daughters, ages 7 and 5.  A smaller, but as I think about it, possibly related change is that I have come to love limoncello.  Hmmm…raising two young kids and a sudden affection for a new strong alcohol.  I could be onto something.

We are still in the infant stage here.  For the first few days all I could do was wander around in a kind of awe at the beauty of the place, the cliffs, the deep blue Mediterranean Sea (or the Tyrrhenian sea), the twinkling lights from the houses on the mountains at night.  I walked around with my gaze always up at the cliffs or down at the sea.  Ella and Samantha on the other hand didn't really seem to share this appreciation.  I'd say "Don't you think this is incredibly beautiful" and I'd get "Mom, look!  There are hundreds of ants coming out of the crack in this step"  It's OK though.  I remember being the same way at their age.  

At almost a week now, I'm starting to pay attention to more than just the cliffs and the ocean while we walk the streets.  There is the town cat we have to stop and pet everyday.  There is the man from the store that sells beautiful sandals that I would like to buy  (but am afraid to ask the price) that has fun teasing Samantha about stealing her shoes.  I've done my first couple loads of laundry in a very tiny washing machine with the instructions all written in Italian and actually hung the clothes out on a line that crosses in front of our balcony.  I was relieved to see they were still hanging there at the end of the day and not strewn all over the roof below or on the road.  I know the routine of walking to the downtown which includes a short stretch on this very busy, windy road that runs below our apartment.  The routine is I take Sam or Ella's hand into a sort of death grip, run across the road, put them on the side furthest from the cars, and continue to throw fearful glances behind me (looking for approaching Vespas and SITA buses) until we hit the stairs.  Clearly we are tourists, as I watched from our balcony the other night, a woman swaddling an infant in a blanket and walking with what appeared to be her mom very casually down this same stretch of road, no fearful glance to speak of.  I'm hoping to absorb some of this Italian "worry less, enjoy life more" mentality.  Although, I'm guessing I will do the death grip on this road until we leave….