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Tejuino

On hot afternoons in Guadalajara, vendors ladle tejuino from big clay pots into plastic bags or glasses with ice, a squeeze of lime, a pinch of salt and often a scoop of lime sorbet. It is made from corn masa cooked with piloncillo and left for two or three days to ferment a little, which gives it a tangy, slightly sour taste. The fermentation is light and the drink is sold as non-alcoholic, but a trace of alcohol can form, so keep the fermentation to 2 days and serve it well chilled. Skip the fermenting stage entirely for children: drink it fresh as a sweet atole-style cooler. Chef's tip: taste it each day; take it to the fridge as soon as it tastes pleasantly sour, like a mild yoghurt.

35 min

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Chocolate de agua

Walk down Calle Mina in Oaxaca City and the air smells of cacao, cinnamon and almonds, roasted and ground into chocolate in front of you at the mills. Most Oaxacans drink it made with water, not milk, so the taste of the cacao comes through clean and slightly bitter, with a thick head of foam raised with a wooden molinillo. It is drunk for breakfast with pan de yema and at every wedding and Day of the Dead altar. The tablets already hold sugar and cinnamon; we give a version with dark chocolate too. Chef's tip: the foam is the point, so whisk hard just before pouring and serve in wide cups.

12 min

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Tortitas de Santa Clara

The nuns of the Santa Clara convent in Puebla are credited with this biscuit, and the city's Calle de los Dulces still sells it in boxes stacked beside camotes and jamoncillos. It is a crumbly, lightly sweet shortbread round, covered with a thick, pale cream made from ground pumpkin seeds, sugar and milk, which sets to a soft fudge-like layer. They are eaten with coffee in the afternoon and taken home as a gift from Puebla. Chef's tip: grind the peeled pumpkin seeds as fine as you can before cooking; any coarse bits make the topping gritty.

75 min

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Agua de chía con limón

In the markets of Michoacán, especially in Uruapan and Morelia, the glass barrels of agua fresca often include one cloudy, speckled with tiny seeds: agua de chía, limeade with soaked chia seeds that swell into soft little pearls. Chia has been grown in central Mexico since long before the Spanish, and the drink is light, sharp and very refreshing, with a gentle texture from the seeds. It is drunk with lunch or on hot afternoons. Chef's tip: stir the seeds into the water twice in the first ten minutes; otherwise they clump into jelly-like lumps.

10 min

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Café de olla

In ranch kitchens and roadside fondas across central Mexico, coffee is not dripped but boiled in a tall clay pot (olla de barro) with a cone of piloncillo and a stick of soft Mexican cinnamon, then strained into clay mugs. It is sweet, spiced and earthy, and is served with pan dulce at breakfast, on cold evenings, and to visitors on Day of the Dead. A saucepan works fine if you have no olla. Chef's tip: turn the heat off before adding the coffee and let it steep rather than boil, or it turns bitter.

15 min

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Torito de cacahuate

Torito is the party drink of the port of Veracruz and the Sotavento, poured at weddings, saints' days and the Tlacotalpan Candelaria fair: a thick, cold, milkshake-like blend of peanuts, condensed and evaporated milk and cinnamon. The traditional version is spiked with aguardiente, the local cane spirit. This recipe is the alcohol-free version, so children can drink it too; adults who want the original add a measure of cane spirit to each glass. It contains peanuts, so check for allergies. Chef's tip: toast the peanuts until just golden before blending; raw ones taste flat and beany.

15 min

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Chapo

Breakfast stalls in Iquitos and the riverside towns of Loreto pour chapo into glasses from big steaming pots before the heat of the day sets in, and by afternoon the same drink is sold chilled. It is made from plantains left until their skins are black, simmered with cinnamon and cloves until soft, then blended smooth and loosened with milk. The result is thick, naturally sweet and gently spiced, somewhere between a smoothie and a thin custard, and children love it. Some families make it with water only; evaporated milk is the common addition in town. The mistake is using plantains that are still yellow-green: they taste starchy and the drink turns grey and gluey, so wait until the skins are mostly black and the fruit gives when pressed. Serve hot with bread or a tamal, or cold over ice. Chef's tip: strain it through a sieve after blending for a silky drink, and thin it with water if it thickens as it cools.

30 min

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Camu camu

Camu camu are small purple-red berries that grow on bushes along the flooded riverbanks of the Peruvian Amazon, and in Iquitos and Pucallpa they are sold as frozen pulp and blended into a sharp, pink refresco at juice bars and lunch places. The flavour is intensely sour, more than lime, with a faint cherry note, and the berries are famous for containing far more vitamin C than oranges. It is the drink people order with a heavy plate of tacacho or rice. Never boil camu camu or make the juice hours ahead: heat and air quickly fade its colour and much of the vitamin C, so blend it cold and drink it soon. Frozen pulp or freeze-dried powder from health-food and Latin shops are the forms you'll find abroad. Chef's tip: start with half the pulp and add more to taste; it's strong enough that a little goes a long way.

10 min

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King kong

Named, the story goes, after the giant ape because of its size when the film reached Peru, the king kong is Lambayeque's proudest sweet: thick, crumbly biscuit layers stacked with manjar blanco, a sticky pineapple jam and a peanut fudge, then cut into heavy slabs. Shops in Lambayeque and Chiclayo sell them by the kilo in boxes, and travellers carry them home as gifts. It is very sweet, buttery and dense, so a slice goes a long way with black coffee. This home version makes the manjar blanco from condensed and evaporated milk to save hours, then turns half of it into the peanut layer. The usual mistake is overbaking the biscuit until it is hard; take it out as soon as the edges are pale gold, as it firms up while it cools. It is a project, so make the fillings first and let them cool. Chef's tip: wrap the finished king kong and leave it overnight before cutting; the layers settle and soften into each other.

150 min

Peruvian Baking

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Turrón de Doña Pepa

Every October, the month of the Señor de los Milagros processions in Lima, bakeries and street sellers pile their trays with turrón de Doña Pepa: layers of crumbly anise-flavoured sticks drenched in a dark syrup of chancaca cooked with fruit and spices, topped with a storm of coloured sprinkles. Popular lore credits it to Josefa Marmanillo, a woman from the Cañete valley who is said to have made it in thanks after the procession. It is sticky, crunchy and soft at once, with orange and clove in the syrup. Its downfall is usually runny syrup that soaks the sticks into mush; it needs to reach a thick, threading stage before it goes on. Chancaca is sold as cones or blocks in Latin shops; panela or dark muscovado also work. Some coloured sprinkles contain gelatin, so check the label. Chef's tip: make it a day ahead; the syrup sets and the sticks soften just enough to slice neatly.

120 min

Peruvian Baking

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Champús

When Lima's grey winter sets in, from June to September, champús sellers set up on street corners with big pots of this thick, fruity drink, ladled warm into glasses and eaten as much as drunk. It's made from mote (hulled white corn), simmered with pineapple, quince or apple, soursop, chancaca and warm spices, then thickened lightly with corn flour, so every spoonful has soft fruit and chewy corn in a spiced, molasses-sweet base. It is close in spirit to mazamorra morada but paler and tangier. The mistake people make is adding the thickener straight into the hot pot, where it forms lumps; always slake it in cold water first and pour it in while stirring. Canned or jarred hominy saves hours; frozen soursop (guanábana) pulp is in Latin shops and can be left out. Serve warm in glasses with spoons. Chef's tip: simmer the pineapple peel and core with the spices for the first 20 minutes, then strain them out; they give much of the flavour.

80 min

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Emoliente

Before dawn, all over Peru, emolienteros set up their carts with a row of steaming kettles and jars of herbs, and commuters stop for a glass of emoliente on the way to work. It's a hot infusion of toasted barley, flaxseed and herbs, with lime juice and sugar added to order, and it is drunk for comfort and digestion, especially in Lima's damp winter. The flaxseed gives it a slippery, soothing body; the barley a toasty, almost coffee-like note. Street versions use horsetail, alfalfa, boldo and other herbs; this home version keeps it simple, with horsetail as an option (leave it out if you are pregnant or have kidney problems). The usual error is boiling the flax too long, which makes the drink gloopy; add it for the last 10 minutes only. Serve very hot in glasses, with pan con queso or a sandwich. Barley contains gluten. Chef's tip: toast the barley yourself until it is deep brown; it's what gives emoliente its colour and its roasted flavour.

40 min

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Quinua con manzana

Morning market stalls and street carts from Lima to Huancayo ladle quinua con manzana into glasses alongside emoliente and maca, and many people drink it as breakfast on its own, with a bread roll or a sandwich beside it. Quinoa and chunks of apple are simmered with cinnamon and cloves until the grains burst and the liquid thickens, then sweetened and served warm or cold. Some stalls blend it smooth; others leave the grains and soft apple pieces to spoon up. It is mild, fruity and filling, and children usually like it. The mistake that ruins it is skipping the rinse: quinoa's natural coating, saponin, makes the drink bitter and soapy, so rub it under running water until the foam stops. Chef's tip: add a few drops of lime at the end; it lifts the apple and keeps the drink from tasting flat.

40 min

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Pozol de cacao

In the heat of Villahermosa and the Chiapas lowlands, farmers carry a ball of corn dough in a banana leaf and mix it with water in a jícara (a gourd bowl) at midday: that is pozol, a cold, thick, filling drink that has been made since Maya times. The cacao version is the favourite, sold from big clay pots at market stalls with ice, sometimes slightly fermented so it turns pleasantly sour. This home version uses masa harina and cocoa nibs, so it is ready in minutes; leave it to ferment if you want the tang. Chef's tip: stir it every time before pouring, as the corn settles to the bottom fast.

23 min

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Tascalate

Tascalate is the drink of the Chiapas central valley, sold in Chiapa de Corzo and Tuxtla in tall glasses at markets and given to guests at fiestas. A powder of toasted tortillas, cacao, pine nuts, sugar, cinnamon and a little achiote is whisked into cold water or milk, so it is orange-brown, thick and nutty with a sweet chocolate finish. The powder keeps for weeks, so make a jar. Made with water it is vegan. Chef's tip: toast the tortillas until they snap cleanly; any softness leaves the powder clumpy.

22 min

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Coyotas

Coyotas were first baked in the Villa de Seris neighbourhood of Hermosillo, and today Sonorans buy them by the dozen in paper bags to eat with morning coffee or take as a gift when they travel. They are flat, round, pale pastries with a crisp, crumbly crust and a thin layer of molten piloncillo inside, like a giant cookie with a toffee middle. Some bakers add guava or cajeta, but brown sugar loaf is the classic. Chef's tip: pinch the edges firmly and prick the tops; otherwise the hot sugar bubbles out and burns on the tray.

50 min

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Empanadas de calabaza

When the cold fronts reach Monterrey in November, panaderías start stacking trays of empanadas de calabaza next to the conchas, and families bake them at home for Day of the Dead and Christmas. A tender, lightly sweet pastry is folded around a thick purée of pumpkin cooked with piloncillo, cinnamon and anise, so each half-moon tastes like a spiced pumpkin pie you can hold. They are eaten with café de olla or a glass of milk. Chef's tip: cook the filling until a spoon leaves a trail across the pan; watery pumpkin turns the pastry soggy.

100 min

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Pastes de Real del Monte

Cornish miners arrived in the silver mines around Real del Monte and Pachuca in the 1820s, and their pasties stayed: today the hilltop town in Hidalgo has paste shops on every street, selling them warm from the oven to visitors and locals all day. The classic filling is close to the original, diced beef, potato, onion and parsley seasoned with plenty of pepper, sealed in a short, buttery crust and baked until the juices turn to gravy inside; Mexican kitchens added a little chilli and many other fillings, including chicken in mole, which you can use instead of the beef. Eat them with a hot salsa or alone, with coffee. Chef's tip: cut the beef and potato small and evenly, about 1 cm; it all cooks raw inside the pastry, so even pieces are what make it tender.

100 min

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Kispiño

Pressed in a fist so each one carries the marks of the cook's fingers, kispiño are small, dense quinoa cakes from the Puno highlands, steamed and then left to dry so they keep for weeks on journeys, herding trips and pilgrimages. Traditional ones are bound with a little lime water (from cal, the mineral) and fat; this home version uses oil and a pinch of aniseed and sugar, so they're vegan and pleasantly savoury-sweet. They're firm and chewy, a little like a grain cake, and good with hot tea, coca tea or a soup on a cold day. The common mistake is making the dough too wet, so the cakes slump in the steamer; it should feel like damp sand that holds its shape when squeezed. Ground quinoa is quinoa flour; grind your own from rinsed, dried and toasted grain, or buy it ready ground. Chef's tip: toast the ground quinoa in a dry pan first until it smells nutty, which takes away any bitterness.

55 min

Peruvian Baking

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Aguajina

Aguaje is the scaly, chestnut-red fruit of the moriche palm that grows in the flooded forests around Iquitos, and its orange flesh ends up in ice lollies, ice cream and, above all, aguajina, the cold drink sold in plastic cups at every corner and in Belén market. The taste is unusual and loved locally: tangy, a little like apricot and carrot, with a rich, slightly oily body. Fresh aguaje must be softened in warm water for an hour before its thin layer of pulp can be scraped off; outside Peru, frozen aguaje pulp from Latin American shops is the realistic choice and gives a good result. A common slip is adding all the sugar before tasting: the pulp's sourness varies from pack to pack, so sweeten at the end. Serve very cold with lunch or on a hot afternoon. Chef's tip: blend the pulp with only part of the water first, so it breaks down fully, then stir in the rest.

15 min

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Pastel tres leches

Pastel de tres leches is the birthday and celebration cake of Mexico and much of Latin America: a light, airy sponge drenched in a mixture of three milks (evaporated milk, sweetened condensed milk and cream) until it is soaked through but still holds its shape, then topped with whipped cream. It is cold, milky and sweet, and every bakery from Mexico City to Guadalajara sells it by the slice. The sponge is made with whisked eggs for lightness, so it drinks up the milk without collapsing. Chef's tip: let the cake soak in the fridge for at least 4 hours, ideally overnight; the milk needs time to work its way into the centre and the cake slices far more neatly when cold.

90 min

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Conchas

Conchas are the most famous pan dulce (sweet bread) in Mexico, piled high in every panadería and eaten for breakfast or merienda with hot chocolate or coffee. The bun is soft, slightly sweet and enriched with egg and butter, and it wears a crunchy, crumbly topping of sugar, fat and flour scored into the seashell pattern that gives it its name. Make some vanilla and some chocolate topping for the classic mix. Chef's tip: shape the dough into very tight balls before adding the topping; the tension makes them rise up instead of spreading out, so the shell cracks into neat stripes.

180 min