A wise man once said: ‘Without alcohol, you don’t necessarily live longer, but it seems to take longer.’ Now, I’d like to grow old and at least as wise as that wise man, so I’ll take it in stride that my long life may seem to last shorter thanks to the divine presence of alcohol.
And I’m not talking about soulless ethanol with added flavourings, there’s plenty of that – but that’s another story. I’m talking about fine distillates, crafted with heart and soul, where time is a kind friend that adds character and flavour to a youthful spirit. Where angels steal a little through evaporation, and the devil takes his share by sucking the moisture from the wood in which the drink is aged.
I’ve had the privilege to visit many distilleries on our blue planet. But this is the first time I’m visiting a pisco distillery. And so, it came to pass that I found myself holding a glass of pisco Chañaral De Caren 46 in my hands. But more on that later.
In the heart of the Limarí province, hidden among chañares (Geoffroea decorticans or Chilean palo verde), willows, poplars, and vineyards surrounding the Rio Grande Valley, lies a distillery that guards one of Chile’s most cherished secrets: pisco.
Upon arriving in the small village of Chañaral de Carén, 67 kilometres inland in the foothills of the Monte Patria commune in the Coquimbo region, I’m greeted by Luis Orrego, a 64-year-old man with a warm smile and a life filled with passion for his pisco. He’s been the driving force behind this distillery for 38 years, a journey that began when he was just twelve years old. As he leads me through the distillery, I feel the dedication and craftsmanship in every corner of the building.
Pisco, Chile’s national pride, is a grape brandy that originated in the sixteenth century when Spanish conquistadors brought their distillation skills to South America. They also introduced winemaking to the region. The term ‘pisco’ likely derives from ‘pisqu’, the Quechua word for bird, or highflyer.
By the seventeenth century, this region was already known for its production of wines and brandies. In 1871, the term ‘Pastilla Pisco’ appeared for the first time, named after a specific grape variety used for production. Legislation surrounding pisco began to take shape in the early twentieth century. In 1931, pisco was officially recognized by the Chilean government, with Decree 181 granting the name pisco to all brandies produced in the Atacama and Coquimbo regions, between the 27th and 32nd parallel. This area is known for its dry, semi-desert climate, ideal for growing the muscat grapes needed for pisco production.
Luis begins to explain the production process of pisco: ‘The production of pisco involves six steps: harvesting, transport, grape pressing, obtaining base wine, distillation, ageing, and bottling. The grapes are pressed without breaking the seeds to avoid bitter flavours.’
As we step into the fermentation room, filled with large stone blocks, the heavy, sweet smell of fermenting grapes immediately hits me. We climb up the concrete tanks using a rickety ladder. Luis opens a lid. Wow. Just from breathing deeply, you already start speaking with a slur; the air is soaked with the rich aromas of the pisco in the making. ‘Here the grapes ferment into base wine.’
We climb down the ladder. Luis points to large wooden barrels. ‘We pump the base wine into these vats to let the sediment settle to the bottom,’ he explains. ‘After three days, we can finally begin distilling.’
We then walk to the stills. ‘Here,’ Luis says, ‘the real magic happens. The fermented must is distilled twice, a process that perfects the purity and flavour of the pisco. The first distillation separates the alcohol from the water and impurities,’ he patiently explains, ‘The second distillation refines it even further.’ This is where the pisco is born.
As Luis guides us through the process, Julio Taborga, the current owner of the distillery, joins us. Julio took over twelve years ago, after the distillery was founded by his father and uncle in 1987. ‘It’s a family legacy,’ Julio proudly says, as he tells me more about the company’s history. ‘In 1980, my father and uncle, Arístides and Marcial Taborga Iriarte, bought the agricultural plot Viña Huallilen from Don Tadeo Perry Barnes. They dreamed of making their own pisco, and in 1987, Pisco Chañaral de Carén was born, in honour of our hometown here in the Limarí Valley.’
Julio is happy to share the tradition his family has built. ‘My father and uncle began this adventure with nothing but their determination and love for the craft. They built this place brick by brick,’ he tells me, pointing to the traditional copper stills they installed by hand. ‘Luis and I have shared a lot of laughter and tears here. It’s a family business, and you can feel it in every drop of pisco we produce.’
Julio also explains how the unique terroir of the Limarí Valley contributes to the quality of their pisco. The dry climate, clear skies, and large temperature variations between day and night produce grapes with intense flavour and aroma, essential ingredients for a premium pisco. ‘The earth, the climate, and the altitude of this region give our pisco its unique character. It’s truly a product of everything that makes this land what it is. You could say it’s the concentrated soul of our region,’ he adds.
The sun slowly sets behind the mountains. A young Chilean chef later tells me when I’m back in the capital, Santiago: ‘Pisco is a drink for strong people, or for those who prefer to sweeten it with lemon and sugar. For those trying pisco for the first time, it’s recommended to choose an older pisco and serve it neat in a glass.’
I’m not really a fan of sweetened strong drinks, it only gives you headaches. So, bring on that older fellow. Julio pulls out a bottle of pisco and pours us all a glass. Pisco Chañaral De Caren 46. The smell is intense, with notes of flowers and ripe fruit. Winner of the Medalla Gran Oro at the Catad’Or World Spirits Awards in Santiago in 2015, awarded as the best pisco of that year. ‘Only for special guests,’ Julio laughs. ‘Cheers,’ says Luis, ‘To the future and the rich history of Chañaral de Carén.’
I hold the glass up to the light. It has a bright golden colour. Then I take a sip and let the pisco slowly swirl around in my mouth: notes of muscat, quince, and orange peel. The months of aging bring roasted notes that make it more complex and elegant. Complex and elegant, it’s quite possible that there’s a piece of Chile’s soul in every bottle of pisco.
Craving a drop of pisco? You could visit your local liquor store, but you could also get it straight from the source. Visit TouristEd Chile for more information. They’re doing cool things in Coquimbo.
Love what we do? Help us keep sharing the world’s most inspiring travel stories. At WideOyster, we believe in adventure, authentic storytelling, and capturing the world – raw, real, and breathtaking.
We travel far and wide to bring you stunning photography, in-depth travel journalism, and immersive stories that inspire and inform. But this doesn’t come free. It takes time, passion, and resources to keep WideOyster running without paywalls or clickbait – just pure, high-quality travel content.
If you love what we do, please consider supporting us with a one-time contribution.
Click below to support us and be part of the adventure.
©WideOyster, 2026. Every journey we share is protected by copyright. Please explore and enjoy, but remember: all rights reserved.
WideOyster Media BV
Jacobsgasthuissteeg 11
Utrecht
The Netherlands
Just like every trip needs snacks, our website needs cookies to function. Accept our cookies and let the adventure begin! Read our Privacy Policy.