This Weird Courage Mantra Will Change the Way You Make Decisions
If you have never tried limoncello, an Italian lemon liqueur, you may not know that it tastes like a concentrated, alcoholic version of Theraflu.
I was introduced to it years ago after a lovely al fresco meal with my husband in a movie-set-like patio restaurant in Sorrento, Italy. When our waiter came by to clear away our dinner plates and suggested this post-dinner treat, we were skeptical. My husband predicted it would turn out to be the Italian version of Kahlúa, a beverage that requires a picturesque holiday locale to be at all palatable.
We asked our waiter what it was made with. How sweet it was. What it tasted like. And we remained just as incredulous after all his emphatic answers: “The best lemons in Sorrento!” “Sweet is perfection!” “Tastes sunshine!”
Realizing this wasn’t an argument to be won with evidence, our waiter then took an entirely different approach. Sweeping his arm up to the star-studded sky, he coaxed, “Ahhhhh, limoncello, why not?”
Now he had us cornered. In legal terms, he shifted the burden of proof. Suddenly, we had to justify why we were being suspicious, diet-conscious Americans, dourly refusing the potential of pleasure to be found in a small drink that “tastes…
