I borrowed that line from db. But it pretty much sums up the southern sentiment towards its unofficial regional beverage, sweet tea. Sweet Tea, more appropriately, because if it isn't a proper noun, goshdarnit it should be.
Even Slate has recognized the goodness that is sweet tea. You can read the article here.
Several of my friends tease me about the pitcher of sweet tea I keep in my fridge at home, despite the fact that I have been living in the great white north for two years now. One of my fellow southerner classmates insists I bring it with me to every study group and pot luck meal we have (the pot luck supper is another fine southern tradition). One fall afternoon she dropped by my house to borrow a book, and as she helped herself to a glass from the cabinet and made a bee-line for the fridge, I had to tell her we were fresh out of sweet tea. From the look on her face, you would have thought I had told her I was an alien in a human suit. After recovering from the shock, she slowly set the glass down on the counter, gathered up her southern resolve, put a hand on her hip and asked, "Well how long does it take you to make more?"
And I made more right then. Because a southern household, even one relocated to Massachusetts has sweat tea in their fridge. Besides, I was almost to the bottom of my own glass.
"[Sweet tea] is the house wine of the south." Dolly Parton