Joe and I walked to a small café, we both ordered a hot chocolate and sat down at an outdoor table. If you are North American, European, or Asian, it wasn't what you think of when you think of hot chocolate. The locals called it Xocolatl. It wasn't the sweetened hot chocolate that you might put marshmallows in. It was pure powdered cacao beans and a bit of hot chili powder mixed with hot water. A rich, what earthy sort of flavor, with a hint of bitter and the heat of the chili. For me, it had been an acquired taste, but I had grown to like it very much. I marveled at the thought that this exact drink, prepared exactly like this, being served and enjoyed in this region for more than a thousand years, maybe much, much longer.
Joe, sipped his, then sighed. "Mmm, that's good," he said smiling with a little twinkle in his eye.
