To paraphrase that cheesy but infectiously catchy 1970s yacht rock tune: If you like piña coladas — and the feel of the ocean — make a pilgrimage to discover the origin of this beloved tropical tipple.

In 1954 bartender Ramón “Monchito” Marrero used Coco López, a recent invention from University of Puerto Rico professor Ramón López Irizarry, to create a new concoction at Caribe Hilton in San Juan. He blended it with white rum, heavy cream, fresh pineapple juice and crushed ice, garnished with a pineapple wedge and maraschino cherry. And — voilà — the piña colada was born, a cocktail that remains a frequent order at any resort with swaying palm trees and a sandy beach.

However, like the mojito, booze lore is often muddled since it involves alcohol and the passage of time. Cuba insists the drink already existed there four years earlier, and San Juan restaurant Barrachina also lays claim to its invention in 1963. But we’ll stick with Marrero’s story, as it’s the most widely accepted. In 1978 Puerto Rico named the piña colada its official national drink, which Marrero mixed at the hotel until his retirement in 1989.

© Kelly Magyarics

I headed to Caribe Hilton to learn more … on my birthday, no less, because how better to celebrate another trip around the sun than by sitting under it, sipping a frozen cocktail I always refer to during my frequent beach trips as a “breakfast smoothie” to justify drinking it before 10 a.m.?

The hotel, opened in 1949 as Hilton’s first international property, gives off mid-century vibes reminiscent of Waikīkī hotels of a similar era, with mature palm trees, a retro poolscape, design elements including splayed furniture legs and curved lines, and an iconic post-war script font with the hotel’s name on the building and behind check-in desks. The hotel made me wish I had packed cat’s-eye sunglasses and a high-waisted polka-dot swimsuit.

Caribar, considered the official birthplace of the drink, is a sleek lobby bar where, any time of day or evening, hurricane glasses filled with a creamy swirl line the bar top, and photos and descriptions on an adjacent wall share the sip’s history. I partook in day drinking disguised as a cocktail demo and tasting, during which a bartender told me staff eschews the heavy cream these days, so even vegan guests can partake. And I’m more than a little embarrassed to admit it took me until that day to learn the drink’s name translates to “strained pineapple” and not “pineapple coconut.”

It may be easy to whip up a great piña colada at a low-key lobby lounge, but what about at a high-volume swim-up bar? Intrepid drinks journalist that I am, I put that to the test, ordering a shaken colada at beach bar Bagua. Perfection, even in a plastic cup, which I carried to the hammock garden so I could sip and sway amid the palms, right by the water. Ditto for the bar next to the resort’s protected cove, where a line of rocks quells the surf and the crystal-clear, tranquil water beckons. Consistency is key to great bartending, and Caribe Hilton has it in spades.

Not that you would, but if you ever tire of the original, ask a bartender to whip up an Espuma Colada with aged rum and black walnut bitters topped with a luscious coconut-lime cream, or the clever Pinold Colashioned, with pineapple syrup and chocolate bitters stirred and served on a coconut ice sphere.

I capped off my birthday by indulging in a post-dinner delivery of piña colada panna cotta and toasting with a sparkling colada, which reimagines the classic into a spritz. I enjoyed both on my oceanfront balcony, looking onto the fashionable Condado neighborhood as my mind wandered back to the lyrics of that eponymous song. Not a bad way to kick off another year.