Chuck Taggart, proprietor of Looka, is one of
my favorite Web food writers, especially since he shares my
love of New Orleanian cuisine. Hope and I honeymooned in
NOLA 8 years ago last month, and it was one of the best weeks
of my life. Not only was it our honeymoon, but we had some
great meals.
I enjoy Chuck's occasional food rhapsodies; he has a good eye
for the odd engaging detail. But I can say with the confidence
of a native Texan -- where we drink a lot of iced tea
-- married to a native Mississippian -- where they drink even
more iced tea -- Chuck's both right and wrong about the
stuff. Yes, iced tea is beverage of the gods. But, no,
Luzianne isn't the best; in fact, it's downright nasty. We're
a proud Lipton-only
household (not the cold-brewed nonsense which Chuck rightfully
scorns; that stuff just screams "I'm a Yankee, I don't
know any better!"). We've tried Luzianne a few times when the
grocer was out of Lipton, but it always seems just wrong
somehow.
My favorite way of preparing tea is sun-brewed; it's nearly
impossible to botch, brews a deep, rich flavor, and appeals to
my Green, retro, no-electricity streak. My sisters, whom I've
long suspected of being strange, tend to use these awful
iced-tea brew machines that alway overdevelop the tannin.
Yech!
Now, Chuck, what about iced tea accoutrements? The Brits (and
Turks, another great tea-loving culture) aren't the only ones
fussy about what you put in -- or, more importantly, refrain
from putting in -- tea. I like a bit of lemon or,
occasionally, lime (though lime is, let us be clear, in most
parts of the Deep South, completely heretical). Hope loathes
lemon in iced tea. As for sugar, well, yes, I like some,
though not so much that it makes your teeth ache, which is the
preference of many Southerners. Strangely enough, for
home-brewed iced tea, we use some sugar, but when I drink iced
tea in restaurants I never add sugar, as it's nearly
impossible to satisfactorily dissolve sugar in iced tea. I'm
also picky about the kind of ice used to make iced tea. If the
ice is too small it mars the drinkability: you end up
crunching when you want to savor. If the ice is too big, it
creates those nasty tea dams, and you end up with it all over
your shirt. Now that will ruin a good dinner at Mary Mac's right fast.
Just ask Niel.