The Maya are also, presumably, the inspiration for the two red chillies in the Waitrose recipe – they liked their chocolate spicy, although also, apparently, cold. (The Aztecs were also fond of the stuff: Montezuma's court is reputed to have got through 2,000 cups a day, 50 of which were consumed by the emperor himself.) The heat the peppers provide is surprisingly subtle, but, while pleasant, it doesn't fit my idea of a soothing drink. verifyErrors }}{{ message }}{{ /verifyErrors }}{{ Continue to heat until the mixture is hot, but not boiling, then add the cinnamon and a pinch of salt. Taste, adjust if necessary, and serve. For a frothy finish, whisk vigorously just before pouring. Warm about 150ml milk in a pan over a medium heat and stir in the chocolate. Continue to stir until the chocolate has melted into the milk, then whisk in the remaining milk and the cream.

Proper hot chocolate is a piece of culinary first aid that ought to be in everyone's repertoire – I like to keep it simple, but this recipe is easy to customise with anything from cardamom to Nigel Slater's intriguing suggestion of lavender. Experiment – all you have to lose is your waistline.

Food writer and former pastry chef David Lebovitz (author of The Great Book of Chocolate) supplies a recipe from Brussels chocolatier Wittamer, which uses a combination of plain and milk chocolate in a 2:1 ratio – although he cautions that the reader"should seek out a good quality one. Most of the better ones list the percentage of cacao on the label ... and are likely to taste better than those bars where a small amount of chocolate is used basically as a colourant". It's more joyously rich than the plain chocolate versions I've tried, while retaining the same savoury edge that made them a more interesting proposition than the simple milk chocolate version – the best of both worlds, in other words. When it comes to chocolate, those Belgians really do know what they're doing. I'm not, however, quite as sophisticated as Mr Nigel Slater, who sighs that "most chocolate has too much sugar in to be satisfactory for making a hot drink. It ends up more like something you might pour over your profiteroles". As I abhor that staple of the buffet table, this intrigues me – could I be about to break through to another level of hot chocolatey perfection? "If you want to take the drink seriously," he continues (oh I do Nigel, I promise) "use the most bitter chocolate you can find ... then sweeten it yourself". Show me a person who doesn't love hot chocolate, and I'll show you a lost soul led astray by one saccharine disappointment too many. But take heart, for there is hope for the poor creatures who dwell in dark ignorance of one of life's greatest joys. I call on you, my readers, the chosen ones, to rise up, cast out the powder, banish the kettle, and lead on unto the one true union of real chocolate, and creamy warm milk. Lo! Heaven on earth, in a mug.