A Sip of Latine Holiday Tradition

Growing up in a Mexican household, it never truly felt like the holidays until my abuela, very aptly, broke out the yellow box of Abuelita chocolate from the tiny cupboard next to the stove. My family and I would decorate the Christmas tree, laughing and reminiscing over handmade ornaments. Then we’d soak up the beauty of the silvery lights in the sala, warming our palms with mismatched tazas of chocolate.  

As a kid, I loved dipping fluffy bits of bolillo in the chocolate until they were soaked through and gobbling them up before they fell apart between my fingers. Today, I take my time with the drink, inhaling the warm, sweet scent of the spiced cacao as I listen to my abuelita recount her day. There’s a tender simplicity to these moments that fills me with peace. It’s these unremarkable interactions with family — shared over frothy cups of chocolate — that reawaken my holiday spirit and the feeling of togetherness that defines it.

Served hot or cold, holiday drinks across Latin America are steeped in culture and tradition. Recipes may vary across cultures, but the connection these drinks evoke is one of the many ways we preserve our heritage. “No matter our backgrounds, we are more alike than we are different,” says Jo Lerma-Lopez, co-founder and natural chef at Luna Mexican Kitchen in San Jose, California. “We all find meaning in honoring our traditions and where we come from.” 

Chocolate de olla isn’t the only drink Latine families reach for during the holidays: Rompope, coquito, champurrado, and ponche, while not exclusive to the holiday season, often arouse nostalgia for the winter festivities. Even as recipes evolve over time and across cultures, these beverages maintain the traditional spirit of togetherness, reinforced by resourcefulness. “For me, food is a way to heal and connect us,” Lerma-Lopez says. “Something as simple as corn and cacao carries generations of love and tradition. Making champurrado is one of the ways we keep that connection alive.”  

Here’s a closer look at the history behind popular Latine holiday drinks. While this isn’t an exhaustive list of the diverse drinks the diaspora has to offer, I hope it will inspire you to enjoy a festive drink with your loved ones this holiday season. Buen provecho! 

Atole (Atol)

There’s an understated beauty to Latine culinary staples. Maíz, arroz, frijoles — simple, accessible ingredients that can be repurposed into myriad dishes. Around the holidays, families double down on large batches of tamales, tortillas, pupusas, and other corn-based recipes. This often creates a surplus of masa, which many households use to make atole.

Atole, sometimes referred to as atol, is a pre-Hispanic drink that dates back thousands of years to the Maya and Aztec cultures, who considered it an integral part of their diet. Originally, atole — which comes from the Nahuatl word “ātōlli,” meaning “watery” — was a thin porridge made with water and nixtamalized (soaked and cooked) corn. During the 16th-century colonial era, the Spanish adapted the recipe, introducing ingredients such as cow’s milk, sugar, cinnamon, and vanilla, which we still use today. 

“It’s not [made with] super complicated ingredients, but we make it taste delicious,” says Manny Cisneros, executive chef at Mercadito’s River North location in Chicago. While the restaurant itself doesn’t serve atole, Cisneros loves having the drink at home around the holidays, especially champurrado, chocolate-flavored atole. In Mexico, common variations of atole de elote include cinnamon, vanilla, piloncillo, and various fruits and nuts like guayaba and walnuts. In Central America, atole de elote takes on new flavors including coconut and pineapple or Guatemalan atol tres cocimientos, made with fire ash, and El Salvadoran atol shuco, made with purple corn. In Nicaragua, it’s also common to make atolillo, a custard-like version of atole made with cornstarch and, sometimes, rum.

“It reminds me of being all together with family drinking it after helping [in the kitchen],” Cisneros says. 

Champurrado

Champurrado is a centuries-old chocolate-based drink that evolved from traditional Maya and Aztec atole recipes. Specifically, champurrado combines two ancient Mesoamerican crops — nixtamalized corn and cacao beans — to create a creamy, comforting drink.

“Cacao is one of the oldest ingredients in our food traditions,” Lerma-Lopez says. “In Mesoamerica, before the Spaniards arrived, it was used in ceremonial drinks that were often bitter and unsweetened. Communities would sometimes add miel (honey) or agave instead of sugar, which came later with colonization.”

Lerma-Lopez adds, “Champurrado brings that history forward by blending chocolate with atole, a warm drink made with masa, milk, cinnamon, and piloncillo.” Part of that tradition is in the technique used to make champurrado, which includes a molinillo — an ancient wooden whisk used specifically to froth chocolate.

By combining toasted masa with milk, piloncillo, and cinnamon, we create something “deeply nourishing and comforting, rooted in everyday life but tied to ceremony,” Lerma-Lopez says. There are also, she says, nutritional benefits. “Through the nixtamal process, corn becomes easier to digest and more nutritious. It releases essential nutrients and vitamins like niacin, which helped sustain our ancestors for generations. It’s a reminder of how our food carries wisdom and resilience.”

Chocolate

When the temperature drops, a mug of Mexican chocolate can warm your soul before it even reaches your lips. The smell alone — a beautiful blend of cinnamon, chile, and rich cocoa — is enough to make anyone who grew up with the beloved drink sigh with relief. “I remember sneaking pieces of the chocolate tablet and trying to eat them like candy while my mom stirred the pot with milk and canela,” says Lerma-Lopez, referring to the modern Abuelita and Ibarra-brand chocolate tablets typically used to make a pot of chocolate. “The smell would fill the whole house.”

Chocolate’s origins date back to the Olmecs, a Mesoamerican civilization from modern-day Veracruz and Tabasco, around 1200 to 400 BCE. Even before the Maya and Aztec empires began cultivating cacao, the Olmecs are thought to have used the beans to make a sour, fermented drink used for medicinal purposes. Around 600 BCE, the Maya people of the Yucatán peninsula began processing cacao into a paste, which they then combined with cornmeal and chiles to create a hot, frothy beverage served for ceremonies, festivals, and as a regular part of the Maya diet. This was the first iteration of the chocolate we drink today. 

Over time, the Maya people introduced chocolate to the Aztecs, who later shared the drink with the Spanish during colonial times. According to etymologists, the origins of the word “chocolate” are unclear, but it clearly dates back to Mesoamerican languages. Possible sources include the Nahuatl word “xocolatl,” meaning bitter water, “chicoli,” the Nahuatl name for a molinillo, and a combination of the Yucatec Mayan word “chockol,” meaning hot, and the Nahuatl word “atl,” meaning water.

“When I make Mexican hot chocolate, it’s never just about the drink. It’s about the ritual,” says Lerma-Lopez. “Traditionally, it’s made with only water and chocolate, simple, pure, and rooted in the way it’s always been done in Mexico. But in our home, my mom always used real whole milk. As it heated, a delicate film would form on top, filling the house with the sweet scent of chocolate and steamed milk. Even now, when I make it myself, it’s that time, the slow whisking, the waiting, the quiet moment to enjoy the familiarness of it all, that brings me the most joy. Whether it’s shared during a holiday gathering or on a cold afternoon with a good book, Mexican hot chocolate will always feel like home to me.”

Coquito

Coquito “is 100 percent an expression of love,” says Irma Cádiz, jefa at Coquito Lady, an online business specializing in artisan Puerto Rican and Dominican drinks. An iced Christmas drink, coquito originated in Puerto Rico during the Spanish colonial period. The traditional recipe, inspired by Spanish-style eggnog, typically includes canned coconut milk, cream of coconut, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla, nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon. While the drink often sparks debates about whether or not eggs are a key ingredient — it varies family to family — its primary attribute is bringing people together. 

“It means a lot to me,” Cádiz says. “It means culture. You remember the parties; you remember your tía — whoever was talking crap that day, whoever made you feel great that day. You can hear the music they were playing in the background. It takes you back.”

For younger generations, the concept of coquito may be more familiar than the taste. As Cádiz points out, it’s not uncommon for first-generation Latine people to distance themselves from pieces of their culture to better assimilate to their new surroundings. But by offering ready-made drinks, Cádiz hopes to preserve cultural tradition and inspire new generations to carry on the legacy of coquito. For her, that means paying homage to her Puerto Rican and Dominican roots by mixing up batches of coquito flavored with mamajuana — a spiced alcoholic drink made by curing tree bark, herbs, and spices in red wine and rum — during the holidays. “If your Nana is still alive, if they’re making pasteles for the holidays, please go enjoy that and do that and learn how to make it while she’s still there with you,” Cádiz says. “Because that [experience], in a nutshell, describes what you feel when you’re trying coquito.”

Rompope

Rompope is a rich, creamy holiday drink made with eggs, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, cloves, and rum. With a velvety texture and indulgent flavors, rompope is enjoyed year-round but takes on special significance during the holidays for its comforting flavors. 

In stores, rompope can often be found in a conical glass bottle adorned with a nun sticker, a nod to a centuries-old belief that the drink was created by nuns at the Santa Clara convent in Puebla, Mexico, in the 17th century. At the time, it was customary to receive important figures at the convent, and the nuns were tasked with preparing food and drinks for these guests, including rompope.  According to the origin story, only one nun named Eduviges was allowed to consume alcohol, for the purposes of making the drink. Eduviges eventually convinced the bishop to allow all of the sisters to try rompope, and the drink’s popularity soared.

Centuries later, rompope has evolved into a popular flavor for desserts, including rompope flan, gelatinas, pastries, and ice cream.

Chicha morada (Peru)

“Chicha morada represents how we were raised, how our mothers and grandmothers used to make chicha morada for us,” says Cesar Andrés Izquierdo, owner and manager of Taste of Peru in Chicago. “We were always looking forward to it. It’s very irresistible. You put a little cinnamon powder on top, and you’re in heaven.”

Chicha morada, which originated in Perú, is a sweet fermented drink made using corn culli, a purple corn largely grown in the Andes Mountains. Other common ingredients include cinnamon sticks, cloves, sugar, and fruit such as pineapple. In stores, chicha morada can be bought canned, bottled, or in the form of a powder or syrup. Around the holidays, though, many families, like Izquierdo’s, choose to make chicha morada themselves. 

The experience of making chicha morada alongside your loved ones contributes just as much to its legacy as the flavors. Izquierdo adds that it’s also more cost-effective to prepare the drink yourself, since the corn can be reused to make several batches, and fruit peels can be repurposed. With a little bit of chuño, or cornstarch, leftover chicha morada can also be transformed into a pudding-like dessert called mazamorra morada, often served with fresh or dried fruit. “We add plums, cranberries, and sometimes we add raisins, and it’s an excellent dessert,” Izquierdo says.

Ponche de frutas

Enjoyed in countries all over the world, ponche is believed to have originated in India — inspired by a drink called “pañc,” meaning “five” — and was later brought over to Europe via trade routes in the 17th century. The Spanish then adapted the recipe and introduced the drink to Mexico and other Latin American countries during the colonial period. 

Today, there are hundreds of unique ponche recipes that vary depending on the country, region, and household. In Mexico, ponche de frutas, or ponche Navideño, refers to a spiced fruit punch traditionally served during Las Posadas (December 16 to December 24). Ponche ingredients also differ depending on the season and the availability of different fruits. Popular flavors include tejocote, guayaba, jamaica, tamarindo, manzana, pera, piña, and naranja. “Si queremos que nos ponga más alegre, pues también le podemos poner tequila” [“If we want it to make us happier, we can also add tequila”], Eva Saavedra, owner of El Huarache Azteca in Oakland, California, says playfully.

What makes ponche truly special, though, is the feeling of profound sense of connection it invokes. “¿Qué representa para nosotros? Memoria, nostalgia,” Saavedra says. “[Cuando tomo ponche de frutas] me siento contento, y me siento ese aire de nostalgia de que estamos lejos de nuestras tierras, pero estamos aquí haciendo que la gente conozca a la cultura.” [“What does it represent for us? Memory, nostalgia,” Saavedra says. “[When I drink ponche] I feel happy, and I feel that nostalgic feeling that we’re far from our lands, but we’re here making people aware of the culture.”]

Cola de mono

Cola de mono (monkey’s tail) is a Chilean holiday drink made with aguardiente — a distilled, anise-flavored alcohol — milk, coffee, sugar, and spices. Often served over ice, this aromatic beverage paints a vivid picture of the balmy summer holidays in Chile. 

Its origins are a little fuzzy, but there are two leading theories about how cola de mono got its name. The first is that it’s a reference to the Anís del Mono bottles, imported from Spain, in which the drink was originally (and is still) sold. These bottles feature an image of a monkey with a long tail on the label. 

The second theory involves an anecdote about former Chilean President Pedro Montt, whose inner circle nicknamed him “El Mono Montt.” Allegedly, Montt’s friends hid his Colt revolver to keep him from leaving a party one evening. Montt stayed, and when the group ran out of wine and spirits, they combined aguardiente, sugar, and coffee with milk. They called the mixture “Colt de Montt,” which eventually morphed into cola de mono over time, a possible nod to Montt’s nickname.

Its name may have evolved over the years, but cola de mono remains a culinary tradition in Chile, where it’s still enjoyed exactly as it was meant to be: with family and friends.

Additional photo illustration credits: Coquito in cup images by Irma Cadíz; ponche images by Mayra Chavez.