By The Tahona Editorial Team
Ofrenda and Vigilia: Cocktails with Tequila for Day of the Dead
Written by
The Tahona Editorial Team
Published on
Oct 16, 2025

The most symbolic season of the year is here: Día de Muertos. On every altar, surrounded by cempasúchil flowers, candles, and shots of tequila, there is one thing that can never be missing: pan de muerto. A blend of history, faith, and sweetness, it is much more than a dessert. It is an edible offering to the memory of those we love most.
Mexico has breads that tell stories, but none as profound as pan de muerto. According to the National Institute of Indigenous Peoples (INPI) and the research of Vargas Muñoz and García Gómez (2017), this bread represents the fusion of two universes: the pre-Hispanic ceremonies dedicated to the dead and the Christian tradition of the Eucharistic bread.
Before wheat and sugar, Mesoamerican civilizations offered foods made from amaranth and corn. Among them was the papalotlaxcalli or “butterfly bread,” a tortilla stamped with a butterfly seal, painted with bright colors, and symbolizing the souls that returned. There were also amaranth breads shaped like lightning bolts called xonicuille, the yotlaxcalli made from toasted corn, and ceremonial tamales called xucuientlamatzoalli.
Legend says that in ancient rituals, a princess or maiden was sacrificed to the gods. Her still-beating heart was placed over amaranth and bitten by the ritual leader. The Spanish, horrified by the scene, reinterpreted the gesture by creating a wheat bread shaped like a heart, covered with red sugar to symbolize the blood.
The pan de muerto we know today still carries those ancient symbols. Its round shape represents the cycle of life and death, the center symbolizes a skull, and the cross-shaped “bones” evoke the four cardinal points dedicated to the gods Quetzalcóatl, Tláloc, Xipe Tótec, and Tezcatlipoca.
White sugar represents bones, while pink or red sugar represents blood and rebirth. On every altar, that round loaf becomes a spiritual map, a reminder that death is not the end but a passage to another life.
And of course, no altar is complete without its glass or caballito, because tequila, just like the bread, is a bridge between two worlds. One ferments the earth, the other the soul.

In Mexico, more than 800 varieties of pan de muerto have been documented, each region giving it its own twist.

Traditional pan de muerto is made with wheat flour, milk, egg yolks, butter, sugar, orange blossom essence, and orange zest. That essence is not a coincidence: orange blossom evokes the scent of funerals and cherished memories.
Preparing it is almost a ritual:
And yes, the best moment to enjoy it is when your kitchen smells like orange and butter.
Día de Muertos is not a farewell; it is a toast. In 2003, UNESCO declared it an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, and pan de muerto is its edible emblem. Every year, with every oven lit, Mexico renews its pact with those who have departed.
On each altar, beside the bread and flowers, there is often a shot of the deceased’s favorite tequila. Bread and drink both come from Mexican soil, one from wheat and sugar, the other from agave and fire. Together, they tell the same story: the story of a country that celebrates life even in the face of death.
Because pan de muerto, like tequila, is not eaten or drunk with sadness but with gratitude. As long as there is a crumb of bread and a sip of tequila on the altar, no soul will ever be truly gone.