bright yellow limoncello ...

Having completely reorganised my father's week, he arrived on Crete yesterday morning.  To fetch him we had to drive through a huge (thunder and) lightning storm which threw down enough rain to compete with the English summer.  In the pitch black on the cliff hanging roads, a 200 year old old lady, steadied by a zimmer frame supporting a wooden peg leg, would have overtaken us with such speed and velocity that she would, to us, have seemed like Usain Bolt as he took off to compete in the Olympic 100m. 

Thanks to Aegean Airlines he arrived on time and the drive home was, in comparison to the way to collect him, like we had been up graded to a supersonic jet – the sky was somewhat clearer; the road was freshly washed of all the summer's dust and dirt.

Dad had come from Italy via the U.K and from his suitcase spilled a wealth of Italian goodness, wild boar salami, wine, cured pork and amongst other bits and pieces a bottle of bright yellow limoncello. 

When he was in the shop trying to choose the bottle the shop assistant, who he described as very knowledgeable, had recommended this particular bottle.  When asked why she had simply replied the lemons are the best … I guess as the spirit is called limoncello the lemons are a pretty important part.

Last night we sat down at the freshly painted outside table and enjoyed dinner "a la mummy" – always an interesting (good) experience – and as an after dinner drink we opened up the bottle of limoncello.  Having read the bottle in my best Italian - a language which thanks to a very good Italian friend only extends to the swear words – arrived at the conclusion that the lemons were from Sorrento.  Apparently this really does make all the difference. The spirit was sharp (but not bitter) and sweet yet didn’t taste like soap at all.  In our limited experience we have decided that this particular bottle has passed the test!