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Bold chicory coffee swirled with sweetened condensed milk and poured over a tumbler of crushed ice, this is how New Orleans beats the heat without sacrificing an ounce of flavor.
Every summer morning in New Orleans begins the same way: with coffee strong enough to stand a spoon in and air thick enough to swim through. The locals learned long ago that when the heat climbs past bearable, you don't abandon your coffee ritual. You adapt it. Ice goes in the glass. The coffee goes cold. The tradition stays intact.
Chicory came to New Orleans during the Civil War when coffee shipments couldn't reach the blockaded port. Resourceful Creole cooks stretched their dwindling beans with roasted chicory root, and something unexpected happened. They liked it. The earthy, almost chocolate bitterness of chicory married with coffee's brightness created a flavor profile that outlasted the necessity that invented it. Today, no proper New Orleans coffee is without it.
The sweetened condensed milk is the second stroke of genius. Richer than cream, sweeter than sugar, it creates a velvety body that coats your tongue and softens chicory's edge without erasing it. When you pour this mixture over a glass packed with crushed ice, the cold shocks the flavors awake. What reaches your lips is bracing and smooth, bitter and sweet, robust enough to revive you and cold enough to keep you upright through a Louisiana afternoon.
This is porch-sitting coffee. Front-stoop coffee. The kind you nurse through a conversation with a neighbor while ceiling fans turn overhead and the city sweats through another gorgeous, impossible day.
Quantity
4 tablespoons
ground
Quantity
2 cups
just off the boil
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
2 cups
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
to taste
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| chicory coffee blendground | 4 tablespoons |
| waterjust off the boil | 2 cups |
| sweetened condensed milk | 1/4 cup |
| crushed ice | 2 cups |
| whole milk or half-and-half (optional) | 1/4 cup |
| sweetened condensed milk (optional)for serving | to taste |
Measure your chicory coffee into a French press or drip filter. Use twice the grounds you'd normally use for hot coffee. The ice will dilute the brew, so you need concentrated strength to carry the flavor through. Pour water that's just stopped boiling over the grounds and let it steep for four full minutes if using a French press. The resulting coffee should be dark as Mississippi mud and smell of earth and roasted nuts.
Pour the hot coffee into a heat-safe pitcher or measuring cup and set it in an ice bath, stirring occasionally. You want the coffee cool, not lukewarm. Pouring hot coffee over ice creates a watery mess. If you're planning ahead, brew the coffee and refrigerate it overnight. Cold coffee straight from the icebox produces the cleanest results.
Fill two tall glasses with crushed ice, packing it firmly. Crushed ice matters here. Cubes leave gaps and create pockets of undiluted coffee. Crushed ice surrounds every drop, chilling it instantly and evenly. If you don't have a crusher, wrap cubes in a clean kitchen towel and attack them with a rolling pin or the bottom of a heavy skillet. The violence is part of the fun.
Pour the cooled coffee into a small pitcher or measuring cup with a spout. Add the sweetened condensed milk and stir vigorously until fully dissolved. The mixture should turn the color of café au lait, a warm tan that promises richness. Taste it now. The sweetness should be pronounced but not cloying. Adjust with more condensed milk if you prefer it sweeter, or add a splash of whole milk to soften the intensity.
Divide the coffee mixture between the prepared glasses, pouring slowly so the liquid filters through the crushed ice. Watch the color gradient form as the coffee meets the cold. Give each glass a quick stir with a long spoon, then serve immediately with a straw. The first sip should hit cold and sweet, followed by chicory's earthy undertow. That's New Orleans in a glass.
1 serving (about 280g)
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