What People Drink in Chile: 6 Traditional Alcoholic Beverages That Define a Nation

Chile stretches from the Atacama to Patagonia, a slender country between the Andes and the Pacific shaped by the Humboldt Current and stark day–night temperature swings. This geography yields grapes, apples, wheat, and herbs that define the nation’s glass.

From asados in the Central Valley to winter gatherings in the south, drinks follow the season and the land. What people pour in Santiago, La Serena, or Valdivia reflects migration, indigenous traditions, and a wine industry with global reach.

Chile’s pisco is a grape brandy with a protected denomination of origin since 1931, made in the Atacama and Coquimbo regions—including the Elqui, Limarí, and Choapa valleys. Distillers use Muscat-family grapes (Moscatel de Alejandría, Moscatel rosada), plus Pedro Jiménez and Torontel, fermented as wine and double-distilled in copper pot stills. Styles are often unaged to preserve floral aromatics, or briefly rested in neutral raulí (Chilean beech) vats or stainless steel. ABV is regulated by category—Corriente (30%), Especial (35%), Reservado (40%), and Gran Pisco (43%). Expect jasmine, orange blossom, ripe grape, and citrus zest on the nose with a silky, warm finish.

Pisco culture centers on the valleys above La Serena—around Vicuña and Pisco Elqui—where clear skies and desert sun intensify aromatics. Locals sip it neat, splash it over ice with a twist, or mix a Chilean Pisco Sour (pisco, lemon juice, sugar, ice). Bars in Santiago and coastal cities pour it alongside ceviche and mariscos; at family gatherings it pairs with pastel de choclo and empanadas. Harvest runs late summer to early autumn; distillation follows, making autumn a fine time to tour pisco rutas and visit small alambiques.

Wine is Chile’s backbone. The País grape—brought by Spanish missionaries—survives as bush vines in Maule and Itata, often turned into pipeño, a rustic, lightly filtered young wine served by the jug. It’s bright and red-fruited, with low tannin and a gentle spritz when fresh (typically 11–12.5% ABV). By contrast, Carménère—once thought extinct in Bordeaux and identified in Chile in 1994—thrives in Maipo, Colchagua, and Cachapoal. It brings plum, black cherry, soft tannins, and signature green peppercorn notes (12.5–14.5% ABV).

Production spans stainless steel, concrete eggs, and traditional raulí vats; old bush-vine País is often handpicked and fermented with native yeasts. The Andes provide cool nights that preserve acidity, while the Humboldt Current tempers coastal vineyards. People drink País and pipeño at asados and picadas, chilled slightly and poured into tumblers, while Carménère anchors restaurant lists from Santiago to Valparaíso. Harvest festivals (fiestas de la vendimia) in late summer celebrate each valley, with food stalls and cueca dancing, and provide a direct link between Chile’s climate, agriculture, and the wines in your glass.

Chicha in Chile is a lightly alcoholic, seasonal drink made from partially fermented grape must in the Central Valley or from apples in the south. Producers crush fruit, allow a spontaneous or inoculated fermentation to start, and stop it early to retain sweetness. Some age it briefly in raulí barrels or plastic drums; others serve it young within weeks of the harvest. The result is aromatic, gently fizzy to still, and sweet-tart, with ABV ranging from 2–11% depending on how far fermentation runs.

Chicha is synonymous with Fiestas Patrias (18–19 September), when ramadas—temporary festival halls—pour it alongside anticuchos and empanadas de pino. Grape chicha is common near Santiago and through the Central Valley, while apple chicha is a specialty in southern communities, including around Valdivia, where cool, rainy weather favors orchards. You’ll find plastic pitchers on picnic tables, clay cups at countryside fondas, and families buying demijohns to take home. It’s a fleeting drink of early autumn in the north and early spring celebrations nationwide, tied to harvest rhythms and national identity.

Terremoto—the “earthquake”—is a boisterous Chilean cocktail that blends pipeño (young white or rosé wine), a generous scoop of pineapple ice cream, and a dash of grenadine or fernet. Served in large glasses, it drinks like a dessert but often lands around 10–12% ABV depending on the wine. The origin story is contested, but Santiago institutions such as La Piojera and El Hoyo popularized it in the late 20th century, with the name reportedly inspired by its wobbly effect after the 1985 quake.

Ordering has its own vocabulary: a full terremoto, a medio (half), and the réplica—the “aftershock”—as a smaller follow-up. The flavor is tropical, creamy, and deceptively refreshing, with grape notes from pipeño and a pink hue if grenadine is used. It’s a social, not a solitary, drink, best shared at crowded bars in Santiago or at September fondas, where cueca music competes with clinking glasses. Travelers can also find riffs in La Serena during beach season and in student bars across major cities, but the capital remains its spiritual center.

Cola de mono (“monkey’s tail”) is Chile’s festive, chilled milk punch, poured from December through New Year. It starts with aguardiente (grape brandy) blended into sweetened milk infused with coffee, cinnamon, cloves, and vanilla; some families add orange peel or nutmeg. The mixture is briefly heated to integrate flavors, cooled, and bottled; ABV typically lands between 8–12% depending on the aguardiente ratio. Expect a creamy texture, café con leche aroma, and a warming spice finish, reminiscent of a lighter coffee liqueur.

The name’s origin is debated—one popular tale links it to President Pedro Montt (a slurred “Cola de Montt”) in the early 1900s. Cola de mono is a home ritual as much as a bar drink: relatives compare guarded recipes, chill bottles on balconies, and serve it alongside pan de pascua (Chilean fruitcake). You’ll find it at house parties in Santiago and La Serena, in pastry shops during Advent, and on restaurant menus offering holiday specials. Because it’s perishable, small-batch freshness is part of the charm.

Navegado—Chile’s mulled wine—warms the long southern winter (June–August). Red wine is gently heated with orange slices, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and sugar; some add star anise or a splash of brandy. The key is not to boil, preserving alcohol around 7–10% while coaxing citrus oils and spice aromatics. The result is ruby and fragrant, with orange peel, cinnamon bark, and soft tannin rounding out the sweetness.

Navegado appears in mountain lodges near Santiago after ski days, at seaside gatherings in Valparaíso on foggy nights, and across southern homes where the stove is the social hearth. It’s comfort in a cup, linked to cold fronts rolling up from Patagonia and the convivial Chilean instinct to counter them with heat and hospitality. In bars, it’s served in heatproof mugs; at home, in thick glasses warmed by hand. Pair it with sopaipillas pasadas (fried squash disks in spiced syrup) for a distinctly Chilean winter match.