Coquito Confessions
A heart-warming Puerto Rican spirit to sooth your holiday blues + a playlist!
Good morning!
Tonight is New Year’s Eve. We are teetering on the edge of tomorrow, and I’m not ready.
Earlier this month I wrote about techniques to slow down time.
I tried my best to implement them, but December slipped through my fingers anyway. The weirdest part is, I’ve been sitting still for much of it, and worrying.
I spent the last two weeks in New York City under a deep freeze. Some people find cold temperatures invigorating. I’m not one of them.
In Rome, where I live most of the year, I burn off distress by walking and running in as few clothes as possible. I lighten the physical and mental load and reset.
Here, icy patches on the sidewalk and curbside slush puddles slow me down and make me feel trapped, afraid to fall and actually break something.
Heavy coats and triple layers remind me of my overweight adolescence, and how I wished I could outrun my own body.
The cold can feel paralyzing and demoralizing. So, how do we get our blood flowing and our figurative (if not literal) feet moving?
Music is a good start.
I’ve had Puerto Rico on the brain since I touched down at -2 centigrade (that’s very cold in Fahrenheit), and Salsa music on the radio ever since.
Start with this playlist.
Not feeling the Champagne celebration?
New Year’s Eve and holiday season are known to cause a spike in anxiety and depression. There are plenty of reasons for it.
Here in New York City, the hub of American consumerism, it’s nearly impossible to avoid advertising. Everywhere you go there are reminders of the Hallmark holiday you very likely won’t be having.
The midnight kiss and the champagne toast are encoded on our brains like a first language.
Growing up, we learn to shed a lot of societal expectations (virginity, white wedding dresses, the perfect partner and career), and yet, the picture of twinkling lights and a crackling fire inside the window of a love-filled, happy home endures.
Let’s be real. You don’t need an excuse to drink Champagne or any other sparkling wine. I run in a privileged circle of wine professionals, so the bubbles flow freely.
There’s a resolution for you! Treat yourself to fine sparkling wine when you feel like it. No special occasion necessary.
But don’t force the feeling.
Still want something in your glass?
Fill Your Cup with Coquito.
I had my first sip of this coco-nutty, creamy, spicy Puerto Rican cocktail during one of the toughest Decembers of my life.
Picture it: New York, 2017. I lit up the red awning for the first and last time at my wine bar on 117th and Manhattan Avenue that would never open its doors.
My partner and best friend faced a new year filled with blaring question marks. Anger and sadness stabbed at my stomach. Days were grey and mostly lonely.
I longed for the sunny streets of San Juan, the warmth on my skin, the welcome wind, and thrashing waves, but most of all, the smiles and familiar faces that welcomed me back with long hugs…so I cashed in a bunch of Delta miles and did it.
I spent three days in paradise, loosening up before bracing myself for the future.
I don’t remember if it snowed that winter. The only white I remember was sloshing happily into our glasses all over town. An offering of hospitality and an invitation to join the collective celebration. A connection.
Like so many of today’s culinary delights, Coquito’s contains a dark and problematic past, repackaged in joy, and dolled out in a beautiful space that blurs the lines between friends and strangers.
And just like that, I remembered that cold and loneliness are never forever.
Coquito: Eggnog Minus the Eggs and Plus the Heat (and Some History)
The recipe reflects centuries of history, influences, and local flavor.
Europeans have been swilling egg and milk-based holiday drinks since medieval times. Eggs, milk, and spices were symbols of prosperity and celebration (think “Pancake Tuesday” and the ubiquitous fruitcake).
Early iterations used wine or ale, eggs, cream, and spices.
With the Imperial Age came the spice trade, which introduced cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla to the mix.
As sugar cane plantations flourished, fueled by the slave labor, so did Rum production, which made its way back to Europe to top-off today’s eggnog recipe.
Many Spanish colonies in Central and South America adopted and adapted the egg-version of the drink, for example, Mexican rompope, and Venezuelan ponche crema.
In Puerto Rico, coconut was widely diffused among the local Taíno and Afro-Caribbean cuisine. Coquito drops the eggs and adds both coconut milk and coconut cream (literally, the cream top of the coconut milk).
These days it’s easiest to find pre-sweetened in a can, most notoriously, Coco López.
Once the United States absorbed Puerto Rico, we flooded the island with industrial food products like sweetened condensed milk. Say what you will about preservatives, but there’s no substitute for that rich, sweet, gooey consistency.
The result is a drink with thousand-year-old roots, infused with indigenous flavors, and wildly popular.
Holiday Heat
Everyone’s got their own recipe, and this is mine. You can increase the spices and the Rum to taste.
Remember that for Coquito to stay fresh in the fridge, it requires a minimum of one-to-two cups of Rum for every 3-4 cans of coconut and milk.
Err on the side of caution and go hard.
On particularly grim winter days, I’ve taken a bottle of Coquito for a spin around the neighborhood—once with paper cups in my purse, just in case.
It’s a real mood lifter—both the gesture and the human contact. The giving that gives back.
Thanks to the rum and warm spices, Coquito will add some sizzle to your step, especially with salsa on the stereo.
It’s 2026. Take a deep breath, a sip of Coquito, and press play.
XOXO, Annie
PS: If you’ve got amazing expectations for 2026, put them in the comments. We (I) could use some motivational energy!
Never too late to dance with mama! And while you're at it, I'm sure you could make a less sweet version if you wanted to. Mine is more on the alcoholic side so I always reduce the condensed milk, otherwise it's too cloying and impossible to drink (in the quantities I enjoy). :)
I'm reading this later than intended -- but I have to say that's a good playlist! If I'd seen it while I was still in the U.S., I'd have played it for my Dominican mother and we'd have been dancing around the living room!
I've never been a fan of coquito -- I like the coconut tang and the spicy part, but overall it's too sweet and creamy for my taste -- but it was fun reading about your memories of it.