Plant-Based Pilgrim

Are You Drinking Ceremonial Cacao the “Right” Way?

Photo: nina_gili / Canva

If you’ve ever ventured into the world of ceremonial cacao, you’ve likely come across the modern golden rule: take 25 to 42 grams of pure cacao paste, whisk it into a large mug with 200 to 250 ml of hot water, and voilà! But what if I told you that if we were to step back 500 years in time and hand a brim-full 250 ml mug of diluted cacao to an Aztec or a Maya, they’d probably give you a rather bewildered look?


There’s a fascinating mismatch between what history tells us and how we prepare our cacao today. Let’s dive into the history to understand why the traditional dose was extraordinarily concentrated—and why the generous mugful we reach for today might be precisely what our anxious modern selves need.


What history actually tells us

Painted cylindrical vessel depicting a frothy beverage in a vessel and tamales on a plate. Credit: Justin Kerr, mayavase.com, Kerr No. 6418

When we look back at 16th-century colonial records—such as Friar Bernardino de Sahagún’s famous work in the Historia General de las Cosas de Nueva España—we don’t find nutritional tables or precise millilitre measurements. The craft was all about texture and the physical ritual of emulsification.


1. The Alchemy of Froth and Fat

Traditional cacao was never meant to be a thin tea or a diluted hot chocolate. The cocoa beans were ground until they formed a paste rich in natural fat. This paste was then combined with just a splash of water and poured repeatedly from a height, from one vessel to another, until a thick, rich layer of froth formed at the top. Chronicles from the era describe the drink as deeply “substantial,” “full-bodied,” and “rich.”


2. The Culture of Jícaras and Tortoiseshell Spoons

Jícara with design, by Frido Cacao


Forget the 300 ml ceramic mugs sitting on our desks. Cacao was served in jícaras—small vessels crafted from dried gourds or handmade ceramics—offered in small, highly concentrated portions.


Alongside the jícara came a small spoon fashioned from tortoiseshell. What was the spoon for? Because the drink was so concentrated and dense with natural cocoa butter, the solids quickly settled at the bottom. The spoon was used to gently swirl and reincorporate the mixture as you drank—much like drinking a rich, dense elixir rather than a thin mug of hot liquid.


How did we end up with a 250 ml mug?

If ancestral tradition favoured small, rich portions, how did the modern standard of diluting cacao in a large cup of water come to be? The short answer: modern life and our overworked nervous systems.


Towards the end of the 20th century, as ceremonial cacao began to be rediscovered in the West (largely sparked by movements in Guatemala), the way it was consumed naturally adapted to our biology and lifestyle:


Gentler on a stressed body: Cacao is rich in theobromine—a wonderful cardiovascular stimulant, quite distinct from caffeine. Knocking back a highly concentrated historical dose all at once can be a bit of a shock to a system that already runs on stress, anxiety, and espresso. Diluting it in more water makes it gentler on both digestion and circulation.


A ritual of slowing down: A generous 250 ml mug forces us to slow our pace. Sipping away gradually creates a quiet pause in the day—a moment to unwind and settle a hyperactive mind.


So, which way is “right”?

The true beauty of plant medicine and daily rituals is that they aren’t carved in stone; they evolve alongside us.


If you’re looking for historical authenticity and a rich sensory experience, it’s well worth trying a smaller, more concentrated serving—focusing on creating that thick froth and celebrating the richness of the cacao butter. If you’re seeking self-regulation, comfort, and a grounded moment in the middle of a busy day, your large 250 ml mug serves a wonderfully therapeutic purpose.


Here’s the traditional method:

Grind the cacao into a paste.

Mix with water.

Pour from one vessel to another to create foam.

Serve the drink in jícaras, highlighting the foam.


The next time you prepare your cacao, observe not just the weight on the scales or the water in your cup, but what your body and spirit are asking for in that moment.

What about you? How do you like to prepare your cacao: a concentrated, rich elixir or a generous, comforting mug? Let me know in the comments!