Chicha Venezolana con Pasta: Yes, You Can Drink Pasta (and It’s Wonderful)
A while back, in my chicha venezolana con arroz post, I admitted something. I told you that most street vendors back home make their chicha with pasta, that it is genuinely delicious, and that I still could not bring myself to make it at home because my brain refuses to stop picturing a blender full of spaghetti. Rice felt safer. Rice let me skip the mental gymnastics.
Well. I have been trying to bring more of Venezuela into my days lately, the small ordinary pieces of it, and the one that keeps tapping me on the shoulder is the pasta chicha. The exact one you buy from a cart on a hot afternoon, in a plastic cup, with so much ice it barely fits. I kept thinking about it until thinking turned into doing.
So here it is. The version I swore I would never make, made properly, and I am a little annoyed at how good it is.
If you have never had chicha, picture a drinkable rice pudding, cold and sweet and dusted with cinnamon. The pasta version is the same idea with a slightly silkier body. And yes, it is blended pasta. I need you to make your peace with that the way I finally did, because on the other side of it is one of the nicest things Venezuela has to offer in a cup.
Why make the pasta version
The pasta gives you a rounder, creamier texture than rice, closer to what the vendors pour. It also blends beautifully smooth, so there is very little grit if you take it far enough in the blender.
Mostly, though, I want you to make it because it is a small act of joy. Sharing this drink with someone who has never tried it, watching their face when you tell them what is actually in it, that is the whole point. Make it, hand it to a friend, and let them discover that you really can drink pasta.
A note on which pasta
I use short pasta, spirals specifically. You will see plenty of people make chicha with spaghetti, and it works, but when it comes to pouring it tends to slide around and go everywhere. With short pasta bits I feel like I have far more control over the mixture, from the pot to the blender to the glass. If short spirals are what you have, you are sorted.
The two-can rule (my favourite part)
Buy two tins of condensed milk. One goes into the recipe. The other is purely for drizzling over each glass as you serve it, the classic street-vendor finish, and you will want that ribbon of sweetness every single time.
For the drizzling tin, you have two options. Punch one small hole in the top with a knife so only a thin stream comes out, and go slowly, watching your fingers the whole time. If you would rather keep things safe and mess-free, decant it into a clean squeeze bottle, the kind you would use for ketchup. The squeeze bottle also stores neatly in the fridge between glasses.
And before that first sip, always sprinkle a little ground cinnamon over the condensed milk on top. That first hit of cinnamon and sweetness is the signature of a proper chicha.
Chicha Venezolana con Pasta, Easy Traditional Recipe
Ingredients
- 200 g short pasta spirals work best
- 4 cups water 3 for cooking, 1 for blending
- 4 cups milk 3 for cooking, 1 for blending
- 2 tins sweetened condensed milk divided (1 for the chicha, 1 for drizzling)
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon plus extra for serving
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- Ice a proper heap of it
Instructions
- Cook the pasta soft. In a pot, combine the pasta with 3 cups of the water and 3 cups of the milk. Cook over medium heat for about 35 minutes, stirring now and then so it does not catch, until the pasta is very soft and the liquid has thickened.
- Blend until silky. Tip the pasta mixture into a blender. Add the remaining 1 cup water, remaining 1 cup milk, one tin of condensed milk, the cinnamon, and the vanilla. Blend until completely smooth with no lumps. Take it further than you think you need to.
- Chill. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours. Chicha is only right when it is properly cold.
- Serve over lots of ice. Fill a glass with far more ice than feels reasonable. Pour the chicha over, drizzle condensed milk from your second tin, and finish with a sprinkle of ground cinnamon over the top.
Notes
Tips for the best pasta chicha
Keep it in the blender, in the fridge. This is my little trick. Rather than decanting into a jug, I put the whole blender jug straight in the fridge. Chicha firms up as it sits, so every time I want a glass I just pop the blender back on the base, blitz for a few seconds to loosen it, and pour. Fresh texture, no effort.
Ice is not optional. Because it thickens over time, chicha needs ice at the point of serving, every time. Pour it over a bunch load of ice rather than trying to drink it straight from the fridge. The melt is part of the pleasure.
Blend longer for a smoother body. If you catch any graininess, it usually just wants another minute in the blender.
How to store it
Chicha con pasta keeps in the fridge for up to 3 days, covered. It will thicken as it sits, which is exactly why the blender-in-the-fridge method is so handy: a quick blitz brings it right back. If you are using a jug instead, stir in a splash of cold milk to loosen before pouring.
Frequently asked questions
Is chicha venezolana con pasta alcoholic? No. It is a sweet, cold, non-alcoholic drink, unrelated to the fermented chicha found elsewhere in the Andes.
Pasta or rice, which is more traditional? Both are traditional. Street vendors often use small pasta, while many homes make it with rice. This is the pasta version.
What pasta should I use? Short pasta such as spirals. It blends smooth and gives you much better control when pouring than long spaghetti.
Can I make it dairy free? Yes. Use your preferred plant milk and a dairy-free condensed milk alternative. It will be a touch less rich but still lovely.
If you make this, I would genuinely love to see the face of whoever you hand it to when you tell them it is pasta. Make it, share it, and enjoy one of the small beautiful things Venezuela does so well. Tag me at @caramba.crafts and tell me whether you were a rice loyalist who has now crossed over.
