Mexican Spiced Hot Chocolate

New Year's 2025. I am fifty and sober and a grandfather twice over and a homeowner and the father of a bride and the future father-in-law of a man who calls me Bobby but means Dad. The year ahead: the restaurant opens. Tyler's first year of fatherhood. Ava turns two. Marcus's first everything. Mai turns eighty-five. The future is specific and enormous and I am standing in the middle of it with a cup of Vietnamese coffee and a view of the smoker.

New Year's Eve was quiet. Lily and James came over (their first New Year's as a married couple). We ate thit kho and watched the countdown. At midnight James pulled out his phone and showed me a time-lapse video he'd been making of the restaurant build-out — from the empty gutted space to the current state, which is nearly complete. Watching the walls go up, the kitchen take shape, the smoker getting installed — compressed into sixty seconds — was like watching a dream become physical. I watched it three times.

Resolution for 2025: let go. Not of the smoker, not of the family, not of the cooking. But of the need to control everything. Lily doesn't need me to run the restaurant. Tyler doesn't need me to tell him how to be a father. Emma doesn't need me to cook every meal. They need me to be present. To be here. To be the guy with the La Croix and the smoker and the stories and the patience. That's enough. That's more than enough. That's the whole thing.

Made a bowl of pho for breakfast on January 1. The first pho of the year. My version. Extra cinnamon. The broth was clear and golden and tasted like home.

That bowl of pho on January 1st — extra cinnamon, broth clear and golden — reminded me how much comfort lives in a single warm spice. Later that afternoon, after Lily and James headed home and the house got quiet again, I made a cup of Mexican spiced hot chocolate with the same intention: cinnamon up front, a little heat underneath, something that tastes like you meant it. If the pho was breakfast and the future, this was the afternoon and the stillness — and both of them said the same thing: slow down, you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

2 cups whole milk
2 oz dark chocolate (70% cacao), finely chopped
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons granulated sugar, or to taste
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, plus more for garnish
1/4 teaspoon ancho chili powder (or a pinch of cayenne)
1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt
Whipped cream or marshmallows, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Warm the milk. Pour the milk into a small saucepan and set over medium-low heat. Warm until steaming and just beginning to simmer around the edges, about 4—5 minutes. Do not boil.
Whisk in the dry ingredients. Add the cocoa powder, sugar, cinnamon, chili powder, and salt. Whisk vigorously until fully dissolved and no lumps remain, about 1 minute.
Melt in the chocolate. Add the chopped dark chocolate and continue whisking over low heat until completely melted and the mixture is smooth and glossy, about 2—3 minutes.
Finish and adjust. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla extract. Taste and adjust sweetness or spice level as desired — add a pinch more chili for heat or another small spoonful of sugar to mellow it out.
Serve. Pour into two mugs. Top with whipped cream or marshmallows if using, and dust lightly with ground cinnamon. Drink while it’s hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mexican Spiced Hot Chocolate — A Warm Cup for the First Morning of a New Year