With the advent of crisp breezes, the smell of fresh rain on pavement, wool sweaters, and scarves, thoughts turn to steaming mugs of hot chocolate. The craving for liquid cocoa is as old as the bean itself, dating back to the Olmecs, the oldest civilization of the Americas (1500–400 BC). The Mayas slurped cold drinks of ground cocoa beans, water, cornmeal, chilies, cinnamon, anise seed, and other spices. When the concoction was taken to Europe, Spaniards began heating and sweetening it, and the English added milk to smooth out the flavor. Today, shops in Seattle are getting creative with cocoa by experimenting with everything from truffle sauce to citrus flavorings to the occasional spiking with alcohol.

Chocolati in Green Lake leads the way with drinks like “Orange Eclipse” (8 ounce $2, 12 ounce $2.50, 16 ounce $3), which combines the store’s own melted handmade chocolate chips with milk and enough orange syrup to suggest citrus without going over the top. The shop also offers hot chocolate accented with mint, raspberry, or Irish crème. Each cup tastes as though you’re actually drinking a piece of flavored fudge or a dish of super-rich mousse, so it’s best in small quantities. Still, you might want to linger, because the golden-toned cafe is cozy and stuffed with glass cases of candies and chocolates that more than make up for the aloofness of the barista.

Another hangout is Dilettante on Broadway, which has been a celebrated chocolate shop in Seattle for years. The interior is intimate; maybe too intimate—last time, I was actually seated within inches of the couple beside me. Dilettante is crowded in the evening with late-night moviegoers, small groups of friends, and couples hunting for dessert and romance. The selection is impressive, with everything from Mexican to Dutch cocoa on the menu. The Ephemere hot chocolate (regular $2.90, tall $3.34) is made with handmade Ephemere truffle sauce, and though a little buttery-tasting and lukewarm, the flavor is well balanced between sweet and bitter, and the consistency thick. Sadly, the Mexican hot chocolate is disappointing. Its spices are overpowering, and they only get worse the colder the cocoa gets, and the closer you come to the bottom of the cup.

Fortunately, a choco-informed friend suggested El Diablo as a Mexican hot-chocolate mecca, and upon scooting into the Queen Anne joint and grabbing my first cup (8 ounce $2, 12 ounce $2.25, 16 ounce $2.50), I was convinced. The Ibarra chocolate the drink is made from has just enough cinnamon and vanilla flavoring, and it’s served at the right temperature—warm but not scalding. The zesty taste stays consistent for the entire cup, and the colorful, brightly painted interior of the cafe and the snug patio in back are enough to suck you in for a second round on a fall evening.

But if you’re not interested in any strange new brews and just want some old-school hot cocoa, you might want to venture across town to Fran’s Chocolates in University Village. The atmosphere there isn’t quite as cozy—more like a store than a cafe, with chocolates, syrups, and cocoa mixes lining the walls—but the cocoa is worthy of a to-go cup (12 ounce $3, 16 ounce $3.50). Made with melted flakes of Fran’s handmade chocolate (sold in the Northwest for almost 25 years), even reduced-fat milk can’t detract from the bold yet smooth flavor. Experimentation is good, after all, but classics endure for a reason.

hlogue@seattleweekly.com