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Live from the Heart of Temperance Central 


Thursday, December 23, 2004

"Limoncello is the most famous lemon liqueur in Italy. The most beautiful lemons matured under the Mediteranien [sic] sun have been used for this refreshing liqueur. The liqueur cake Limoncello is a delicious fresh baked vanilla cake refined with original Limoncello liqueur."

(Excerpted from the 400g Kuchen Meister box of liqueur cake Limoncello)

For those of you who haven't had the luck yet, buy yourselves a bottle of Limoncello, partly freeze some aperitif glasses, into which you then pour the freezer-cooled Limoncello.

My best friend, Pugshot, hasn't had this sort of luck. When I saw the package of Limoncello cake at the supermarket, I came up with an educational ploy. I could not find a bottle of Limoncello to further douse the cake with some rocket power. The cake on its own would do.

Cash register.

I had not whipped out my credit card when the cashier boy asked for ID.

He knew I was going to pay by credit card. I am getting used to showing my driver's license to shopkeepers here, as a precaution against credit card fraud I suppose.

These Americans can read my mind, I thought. Hold on. Telepathy is impossible. Why is this teenage moron asking for my ID? With no credit card in sight, why did he want to know. Alcohol was the other possibility. On my second night here, I saw an eighty-year-old grandma ID'd for buying a bottle of wine; my dinner tonight, however, was chaste.

So I ask him. "Why do you need to see my ID?"

He holds up the Limoncello cake with an I told you so look.

"You're joking!" quoth I. "Alcohol evaporates! Cakes can't get you drunk!"

"Merry Christmas," he said. End of conversation.

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