Eros Liqueur Lemoncello

G’day guys. I’m here, braving writing a post on liqueurs. Usually an open shut case that offers little, if anything to write about. But in the spirit of the holiday season, I’ll give it another go just the same. Especially since I’m writing about something I’ve never drank before, so that at least gives me something to write about.



Whether you associate the Christmas holidays in your house with big roast dinners, roast lamb or chicken with honey roasted potatoes, carrots and pumpkin all smothered in a mouthwatering blanket of gravy. Or the desserts of trifle, pavlova, or lemon cheesecake after dinner or the presents of chocolates and lollies before that seem to stockpile to the ceiling on the morning of Christmas Day, but by Boxing Day have mysteriously dried up entirely. But I myself, will always look forward to all food either way. It’s the time of year that all of the T.V. cooks like to put out new books and put out new shows. And everybody gets carried away recreating them. The sweet, savory, meat, chocolate, veggies and all. A full-bodied whiskey or a specifically selected wine will pair with any combination of hearty roast dinners, but let’s say you wanted something sweet.

Here’s a liqueur I’ve had nothing to do with until now. Lemoncello. Here’s a case study in designing your product in it’s appearance to attract buyers – I was in my Dan Murphy’s one day, and this bottle caught my eye. It was such a funny bottle. Very petite. Another bottle of it’s same capacity would definitely not be so tall. Liqueurs, habitually being thin, but this one is notable. The capacity is only a hundred millilitres. It’s very thin. Thin and tall. A man with a meatier palm could snap it if he didn’t mind a few stitches. It was such a funny bottle, that it piqued my curiosity. And so I took it home with me. So, lemoncello. I’ve since come to learn that it is a pretty varied and unique drink. It’s a lemon based liqueur, obviously, produced of the infusion of the fresh lemon zest to spirits. In Italy traditionally, Femminello St. Teresa lemons are zested, and added to grappa, or vodka. During this time, the zest release oils to further infuse to the spirits and add to the flavor. It’s popular, but it’s easily made. So much so, that a lot of recipes exist online for homemade lemoncello, from infusions of lemon citrus and neutral spirits. A summer time digestif served chilled, in chilled glasses. So for this hot Christmas season, it’s just what the doctor ordered. Though it also sees it’s fair share of uses in cocktails, and desserts too. Served sweetened by the addition of sugar syrup. Similar to the addition of sugar added to ouzo, with an ouzo spoon. I’m glad I went to the trouble of researching this, understandably, most wouldn’t bother. And were I not writing a blog and doing my homework, I’d never have known either. This is why, experts say that a lot of drinkers nowadays are turning away from drinks like ouzo, as this practice that was common knowledge in it’s place of origin has since gone without saying and the outside world where it is unaccustomed has judged it harshly. This specific label, in an ironic turn actually is Greek. So we’ll give this one a little leeway and actually learn the proper method by which it is drunk before I unjustifiably say harsh words about it.



The bottle, and the first liqueur glass I could find were housed in the fridge overnight to chill as I was instructed, while I went and dug out some syrup out of the bar. So, let’s see if I’m actually drinking this right, before I say whether or not I’d recommend it over the internet. But at this point, this is much less a product review, more a blog on my first taste of limoncello for others too not familiar with the liqueur. As for the proper amount of sugar syrup I am supposed to add, the internet didn’t feel like being helpful here; it simply told me to add as much as I liked. Whether there even is a proper amount to be added, like I’ve seen two sugar cubes dissolved over ouzo spoons, or it’s more like adding sugar to a coffee – One man may add one, another two, and another none. So I just pour a shot into a chilled glass, taste, and judge with my tastebuds. Actually, it’s pretty pleasant without any. But in the name of tradition, and the correct serving instructions, I add just a tad to make sure I’m drinking it correctly. Serving as I’m instructed to, the lemoncello takes on an inherently liqueur nature. A thicker, sweet-stickier nature. A tart-sweet taste of citrus, with a nose to match. Mildly bitter properties balancing the subdued sweetness of the liqueur. A fresh, refreshing, and leisurely indulgent liqueur. As to the quality of this specific label under the heading of limoncello, out of context I would have to judge it as excellent. I would have to pin it down to the freshness and character of the label’s lemons that were used, as well as the quality and adaptability of the host spirit.

So, that’s limoncello. Never had that before, I’ll have to try it again some time. You should try it too. Cheers

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