Cart
0
Some recipes aren't just recipes. They're memories. They're love poured into a pot and stirred until it's thick and warm and perfect.
My grandma's Spanish hot chocolate is one of those recipes. It's not the kind of hot chocolate you make from a packet or buy at a coffee shop. It's rich, almost pudding-like, with a depth of flavor that makes you slow down and savor every sip. And every time I make it, I think of her.
The Memory
I grew up watching my grandma make this hot chocolate on cold nights and special occasions. She'd stand at the stove, stirring slowly, patiently, never rushing. The kitchen would fill with the smell of chocolate and cinnamon, and I'd hover nearby, waiting.
She'd pour it into thick ceramic mugs, the kind that hold heat and feel substantial in your hands. And she'd hand me one, still so hot I had to blow on it before taking the first sip.
That first taste was always magic. Thick, velvety, sweet but not too sweet. It coated your tongue and warmed you from the inside out. It tasted like comfort. Like home. Like being loved.
What Makes It Special
Spanish hot chocolate isn't like American hot chocolate. It's thicker—almost like drinking melted chocolate itself. You make it with real chocolate, whole milk, a little sugar, and cornstarch to give it that signature texture.
Some versions add cinnamon. Some add a pinch of chili powder for warmth. My grandma kept it simple—just chocolate, milk, sugar, and that perfect thickness that makes you want to drink it slowly, savoring every moment.
It's the kind of drink you can't rush. You have to stir constantly. You have to be patient. And when it's done, you have to let it cool just enough that you don't burn your tongue, but not so much that it loses its warmth.
The Ritual
Making this hot chocolate has become a ritual for me. On the coldest nights, when I want to feel connected to home, to family, to the traditions that shaped me—I make it.
I stand at the stove, stirring slowly, just like my grandma did. I watch the chocolate melt and the mixture thicken. I breathe in the smell and let it take me back.
And when I pour it into a mug and take that first sip, I swear I can feel her with me. The warmth isn't just from the drink—it's from the memory, from the love that was poured into this recipe generations ago.
The Secret Ingredient
Here's the thing about my grandma's Spanish hot chocolate—the secret isn't some fancy imported chocolate or a complicated technique. It's Abuelita.
You know, the iconic Mexican hot chocolate tablets that come wrapped in the bright yellow box with the grandmother's face on it. That's the magic. That's what makes it taste like home.
Abuelita chocolate is already spiced with cinnamon and has that perfect balance of sweetness and richness. It's what my grandma always used, and it's what makes this hot chocolate taste exactly the way it should—like tradition, like warmth, like love.
But here's her twist—the thing that makes it unforgettable: a hint of vanilla and just a touch of maple syrup. It adds a warmth and depth that makes every sip feel like a hug.
The Recipe
Ingredients:
- 1 tablet Abuelita Mexican hot chocolate (the large 90g tablet)
- 4 cups whole milk
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1-2 tablespoons pure maple syrup (adjust to taste)
- Pinch of salt
- Cinnamon stick for stirring (optional, but beautiful)
Instructions:
- In a saucepan over medium heat, combine the milk and break the Abuelita tablet into chunks. Add a pinch of salt.
- Stir constantly with a wooden spoon or whisk until the chocolate is fully melted and the mixture is warm and fragrant.
- Add the vanilla extract and maple syrup. Continue stirring until everything is fully incorporated and the hot chocolate is steaming and rich.
- Pour into thick ceramic mugs and serve immediately. Add a cinnamon stick for stirring if you want to make it feel extra special.
Pro tip: The vanilla and maple syrup are subtle—they don't overpower the chocolate but add a warmth and complexity that makes this hot chocolate feel elevated. This isn't a drink you gulp down. This is a hot chocolate you savor slowly, letting each sip warm you from the inside out.
More from The Journal
