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Created by Chef Remy
A stunning ruby-red tea that marries tart hibiscus flowers with bold black tea and Louisiana cane sugar, kissed with cinnamon and served ice-cold on sweltering bayou afternoons the way my grandmother Evangeline made it.
My grandmother Evangeline learned this recipe from a woman at the Opelousas farmers market back when I was barely tall enough to see over her kitchen counter. She called it her secret weapon for Louisiana summers, when the air hangs so thick and hot you feel like you're breathing through a wet towel. One sip of this tea and the world gets a little cooler, a little kinder.
The hibiscus flower does the heavy lifting here. That dried flower, the same one they use for agua fresca in Mexico, steeps into a liquid the color of garnets, tart and bright and full of life. Grandmother always said it tasted like someone put a flower garden and a lemon into a glass together. She wasn't wrong. The black tea gives it body, the cinnamon adds warmth without heat, and the cane sugar smooths everything into something you can drink glass after glass.
At Lagniappe, we keep a pitcher of this in the kitchen for the staff on hot service nights. The servers fight over it. I've seen grown men nearly come to blows over the last glass. That's how you know a recipe is worth keeping. Four generations of Boudreaux cooks have passed this one down, and now I'm passing it to you.
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
4 (or 8 regular)
Quantity
1 cup, plus more to taste
Quantity
1
Quantity
4
Quantity
1 strip (about 3 inches)
Quantity
8 cups, divided
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for garnish
Quantity
for garnish
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| dried hibiscus flowers | 1 cup |
| family-size black tea bags | 4 (or 8 regular) |
| Louisiana cane sugar | 1 cup, plus more to taste |
| cinnamon stick | 1 |
| whole cloves | 4 |
| orange peel | 1 strip (about 3 inches) |
| water | 8 cups, divided |
| ice | for serving |
| fresh mint sprigs (optional) | for garnish |
| orange slices (optional) | for garnish |
Pour 4 cups of water into a large saucepan and bring to a rolling boil. Remove from heat and add the dried hibiscus flowers, cinnamon stick, cloves, and orange peel. Cover and let steep for 10 minutes. The liquid will turn a magnificent ruby red, deep as a Louisiana sunset. That color is telling you something good is happening.
After 10 minutes, add your tea bags to the hibiscus mixture. Let them steep together for exactly 5 minutes, no longer. Over-steeped tea turns bitter and will fight the hibiscus instead of dancing with it. You want partners here, not rivals.
Remove the tea bags, squeezing gently to extract their essence. Strain the liquid through a fine-mesh strainer into a gallon pitcher, pressing on the hibiscus flowers to release every drop of that gorgeous color. Discard the solids. While the concentrate is still warm, stir in the cane sugar until completely dissolved. Taste it now. It should be tart, floral, and just sweet enough to make you want another sip.
Add the remaining 4 cups of cold water to the pitcher and stir well. This is your moment to taste and adjust. More sugar if you prefer it sweeter, or leave it tart if that suits your palate. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours until thoroughly chilled. The flavors will meld and mellow as it rests.
Fill tall glasses with ice, pour the tea until it nearly overflows, and garnish with a sprig of fresh mint and an orange slice. Watch the light catch that ruby color. This is hospitality in a glass, the kind my grandmother served on her porch to anyone who stopped by. At Lagniappe, we make this by the barrel for summer crawfish boils.
1 serving (about 420g)
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