People ask me all the time what I actually drink. My answer never changes: black coffee, iced tea, and red wine. In that order. The black coffee surprises nobody. It's number two on that list I never seem to talk about.
I call my iced tea my sleeper product. It's the thing I put real care into and then somehow never bring up. The coffee gets the spotlight, and fair enough, it's in the name of the shop. But the tea has been quietly doing its job this whole time, and in a New Orleans July it might be doing the most important job of all.
Getting iced tea right is more particular than people think. The color has to be right. When you hold the cup up to the light you want that deep amber, not something pale and washed out. And the mouthfeel has to be right. That's the part most places skip. Tea brewed too thin feels like flavored water. Tea that oversteeps turns bitter and dry. You want enough body that you know you're drinking something, and a finish clean enough that you go straight back for the next sip.
This one is my very own recipe, and it has a name: the Lagniappe Iced Tea blend. If you're not from here, lagniappe is the old New Orleans word for a little something extra, the thing you didn't ask for that ends up being the best part. Sounds about right for a tea at a coffee shop. Every one of our locations always has it brewing: Magazine Street, St. Roch Market, Old Metairie, and the airport. It's not just us either. You can find it at lots of the places that sell Coast Roast coffee around town.
So next time you're in, sure, get the coffee. But if it's ninety-five degrees out and you're already three coffees deep, ask for the iced tea. It's the one I actually drink.