What is this alien elixir? What is this cocoa concoction? Rushing over the taste buds a thousand streams of fluid familiarity turning to a pyro-plastic flow of molten mystery. Has someone hit the rewind button on history? What I know of now of what I tasted at that moment is juxtaposed with Mayan predictions and Aztec bloodbaths, Conquistador conquests and Mexican celebrations. If El Dorado was a city of gold, its streams and faucets flowed with this potable liqueur. If the Mayans invented basketball, their players must have played, driven by their insatiable thirst for this royal beverage. When I sip, names like Tenochtitlan, and the Isthmus of Tehuantepec roll off the tongue as easily as Baja peninsula and Mexico City. I can only imagine that the Texans seceded from Mexico because they were coaxed by the withholding of this elusive libation. Yes I said it, this chili infused treat kowtows to none other. It carries the kick of hot salsa with no chip to counter. It carries the warmth of brandy without the eroding effects of its quantity. Who allowed the collusion of these spices and ingredients? A recipe refined by centuries, each generation contributing to this liquid time capsule. I sip, again I sip, with my own cadence, tasting and talking with my co-conspirators, of all the times people just like us were reveling in the communion of great friends, great food, and Mexican Hot Chocolate
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