Limoncello Spritzers
Sunday dawned sunny, but cool. I had a hard time shaking myself awake, but when I finally did, I slid on my black-and-white striped dress (the one that cuts low in the front—and back) and left for brunch.
It had been a hard week. Repeated twelve-hour days at work. Co-workers frustrated with me. Co-workers swearing at me. Too much wine at client dinners. The sexy dress was a Band-Aid, and the morning’s brunch with my life-long friend, Kim, the salve.
Kim and I are regular brunchers. In Denver, there are few places we haven’t been, and we are intentional about where we dine. We choose according to a specific cocktail, neighborhood, or even egg dish. And last Sunday, we chose by the patio.
Sitting amid leafy trees and deep purple flowers, we ordered. The first mimosa arrived with a light breeze. The second with serious conversation. I couldn’t hold in my feelings about the week. I released them, Kim listening patiently, right down to the story of my tear-filled lunch with my boss.
If you rewind to the beginning of the summer, you’ll see different picture. Kim and I were again at brunch, and we’d just purchased tickets to go to Venice for the film festival at the end of August. In celebration, Kim’s parents had given me a bottle of limoncello, and at brunch, Kim and I were toasting with limoncello-mint spritzers. It was a rainy day, but as we drank the bubbly, minty, lemon-accented cocktail, the day felt light. We talked Fulbright scholarships in Sweden and falling in love.
Now at the end of the summer, a week away from Venice, I wondered how we’d wound our way into weighty brunch topics. How had success at work turned into stress at work? How had our conversations about marriage turned into discussions of actual wedding rings?
As I looked over the trees and flowers, I thought to myself: Twenty-eight is a funny age. A period of transition. Sometimes uneasy, sometimes fulfilling. And definitely in need of a week in Venice, on the beach and in cafes. All with a good friend. As far as I was concerned, it couldn’t come soon enough.
Perhaps that’s how I found myself in the kitchen, pulling the bottle of limoncello, from Kim’s parents, out of the freezer. I reached for the ice cubes, and finally the mint and seltzer water. I grabbed the pestle, and I used it to crush mint leaves into ice, as I did a sharp refreshing scent grabbed the air. I added pour of limoncello, and I topped it with club soda. The cocktail was refreshing and slightly minty, and I raised my glass to Kim.
Note: Because of my trip to Venice, I’ll be taking the next two weeks off of writing. It’s time for a real vacation, but I’ll be back in September.
Limoncello Spritzer
Serves 1
Mostly lemon, with a touch of mint, this light, sweet cocktail is ideal for brunch or an afternoon patio conversation. But don’t try it with appetizers or dinner. It’s too airy and wispy to compete with bold flavors.
Ice cubes
8 mint leaves
2 ounces limoncello
Club soda
Fill a tall glass, halfway with ice. Add mint leaves and using the end of a wooden spoon or a pestle, crush the mint leaves into the ice. Add the limoncello, top with club soda, stir, and serve.
For printable recipe, click here.
