Let Me Tell You About My Obsession With Cold Witches Brew Coffee

Alright, so you know those recipes that accidentally become a “thing” in your house? Cold Witches Brew Coffee totally crept up on me like that. It all started last Halloween—I had this grand idea for a spooky party drink, but, well, my cauldron (just a regular glass jug tbh) ended up filled with this crazy cold coffee concoction that actually… disappeared before the party even got going. That first batch? Not perfect. Pretty sure I used way too much cinnamon and not enough (okay, any) sweetener. Still, my old roommate declared it tasted like “coffee went on holiday in Transylvania”. Whatever that means.

Anyway, this has become my go-to in summer when I can’t face hot coffee but still want something that feels slightly magical. Slightly spooky (but in a nice way). Good thing I like making big batches, because my cousin always seems to “conveniently” stop by. Honestly, who can blame her?

Why You’ll Love This (Even if You’re Not a Witch)

I make this when I need my caffeine but it’s already 30 degrees by 10am and I just can’t even with heat. Plus, my family goes mad for it because it’s not your run-of-the-mill iced coffee; there’s this whisper of spice, a smidge of orange, and it tastes weirdly fancy even if it’s literally just me and my cat on the porch. Sometimes I use whatever’s left at the bottom of my coffee tin (I’m not picky), and one time, my niece thought it was some kind of “magic potion”—she was disappointed it didn’t turn her into Hermione Granger, but hey, it woke her up for softball practice.

If you make a habit of trying to get that coffeehouse vibe at home without spending a fiver, this will hit the spot. And if, like me, you once tried making cold brew in a flower vase… well, this recipe is a bit easier. (Please don’t use a vase, by the way.)

The Not-So-Secret Ingredients List

1 cup ground coffee (medium or dark roast works, or honestly, use what you’ve got—my gran always used that store-brand tin and it was just fine)
4 cups cold filtered water (I sometimes just run the tap for a few seconds so it’s absolutely freezing)
1 cinnamon stick (or a good pinch of ground cinnamon if you’re out—no judgment)
The peel of half an orange (yes, you can substitute lemon if that’s what’s lurking in your fruit bowl; it’s nice, just more tart)
2-3 whole cloves (optional, but I find they add a bit of drama—or skip if you’re not into that whole “fall candle store” vibe)
2 tablespoons brown sugar or honey (I’ve even used maple syrup in a moment of desperation and, honestly, it was grand)
Milk, cream, or a splash of oat milk to taste (just use whatever won’t wreak havoc on your stomach, really)
A handful of ice (I’ve used frozen grapes before. Actually tastes a bit weird, wouldn’t recommend, but you do you.)

Down-Home Directions (With Detours)

Chuck the ground coffee, cinnamon stick, orange peel, and cloves (if using) into a large jar or pitcher. Give it a lazy stir.
Pour over the cold water. Cover—cling film, an old jam jar lid, whatever fits.
Let it steep in the fridge for at least 12 hours. 14 might be better, honestly, but who’s counting? If you forget and it goes 16, it’ll just taste stronger. I’ve never had a disaster with timing here.
After its beauty sleep, strain out all the bits. If, like me, you forgot to buy a proper coffee filter, just use a clean tea towel or even (don’t hate me) a sock—washed, obviously. Not fancy but it works a trick.
Add your brown sugar or honey and swirl it around til dissolved. Now’s when I usually sneak a taste. Adjust sweetness if needed.
Pour over a big glass of ice. Add milk or cream, or keep it black, which is how my dad swears it “puts hair on your chest” (don’t ask—he’s very old school).
Give it a stir, admire your handiwork, then go perch somewhere nice to sip it slowly.

Notes From My Own Kitchen Disasters

If you use ground cloves, it does get bitter quickly; whole ones are much kinder (to taste and teeth).
I once tried zesting the orange straight into the jar; don’t. So much pulp, and it was weirdly chewy.
Actually, I find it keeps a bit better without milk added in advance. Just pour in fresh per glass.

Things I’ve Tried That Worked (And One That Didn’t)

Mint: Throwing in a couple fresh mint leaves before straining is wild in a good way. (Add after brewing, not before, or it gets… floppy, for lack of a better word?)
Nutmeg: Once did a pinch, but it clumped. Grate it on at the end instead—that was lush.
Chili Flakes: This was a joke gone wrong. Just no. Better in chocolate, actually.

Tools I Use (But Here’s a Hack If You’re Missing Something)

Big mason jar, pitcher, or honestly just a spaghetti sauce jar (sterilized, maybe—you never know what lingers)
Coffee filter, clean tea towel, or if you’re brave and desperate, that single-use cloth that came with your glasses—just wash it first, trust me

Storing Your Brew (If You Have Any Left—Ha!)

I keep mine in the fridge with a lid (cold brew gets a bit murky if it sits open—learned that the hard way). Should be good for 3-4 days. Though, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you want to portion it out, small glass bottles or even old jam jars are handy.

Serving: Make It a Ritual, Not Just a Drink

Serve it over lots of ice, maybe with a twist of orange or a cheeky cinnamon stick as a stirrer if you’re feeling posh. My personal preference? Toast and cold witches brew on a lazy Saturday, sunlight on the table, and that feeling that you’ve conjured some happiness out of thin air. My cousin likes it with a chocolate biscuit—she says it’s “like dessert, but less guilty.”

What I Wish I’d Known About Cold Brew Coffee (So You Don’t Have To Learn the Hard Way)

Once I forgot to strain it properly—chewy coffee is… not an experience I’d recommend.
Don’t rush the brewing time. Strain too early, and it’s watery. (I tried microwaving it once to speed things up. Do NOT. It tastes like sadness.)
I tend to think it tastes better on the second day, but that’s probably just me. Flavors settle in, or maybe it’s wishful thinking.
Leave the cloves out if you’re not a fan, or double the orange if you are. Recipes are a guideline, not gospel—my gran always said so.

Questions Folks Have Actually Asked Me (Yes, Really)

Can I use decaf?: Of course! Done it lots, especially for late-night batches. Just tastes a bit lighter. (Good thing for insomniacs like me, maybe?)
Is there a shortcut? I’m impatient!: Ha! I feel you. You could try making strong hot coffee and chilling it, but it won’t get that smooth magic—cold brew’s just a different beast. But good enough if you’re desperate and forgot to prep last night.
Do I need fancy beans?: Not at all. I’ve used everything from local roasters to that tin at the back of the cupboard when I was broke. Just avoid the pre-flavored ones—they taste a bit awkward with orange and spice (trust me, caramel coffee with cloves is… odd).
Can I make this for a crowd?: Yup! Just double or triple everything. If your fridge is bursting, split between two jars—or see if your neighbor wants some. (Makes you look neighbourly, too. Or just prepare for them to pop over more often.)
Where can I buy good spices?: Honestly, I get mine online sometimes; Penzeys is fab in the States. Or if you want to go down a rabbit hole, Serious Eats has a great cold brew breakdown. But nothing wrong with your regular store brand—don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Will this stain my teeth?: Probably no more than any coffee will—just, maybe not five glasses a day if you’re worried!

And now a wee digression: one time, making this while my mate was over, we spilled half the batch while trying to “double-strain” it into a glass teapot (not recommended), and my kitchen looked like a wizard duel had gone very wrong. Couldn’t stop laughing, though—even the dog looked concerned. Just felt right to share that, for some reason.

That’s about it. Have fun with this (I do)—and let me know if you find a way to make it turn you into a morning person. Haven’t cracked that one yet.

Cold Witches Brew Coffee: A Playful Icy Potion at Home