The lockdown has been awful for all of us. It’s not only something we tell each every day, but also seems to be the only content all of us seem to resonate with. Instagram has become a factory of rants whether its celebrities fighting with each other or millennials standing on the roof of their homes and just yapping away about the minute things they hate (I know it may sound that I’m hating on this trend but trust me, I love it). But if we just scroll back a bit and just think about the quantum of what was achieved through the lockdown, its kind of interesting. Just looking at India, we have communicated to over 1.3 billion humans about a virus, we have taught them about social distancing, and promoted the use of masks. For a country that is so disorganised, just the fact that we were able to tell so many people about this is amazing.

I’m not trying to be political here. As someone who builds communication strategies for a living, I’m just amazed by the quantum of work that must have gone to achieve this. We have reached a point where we are genuinely conscious about our wellbeing. I am scared of coughing in public today. I feel like an angry (albeit socially distant) mob would come screaming at me every time I cough only to clear an itch in my throat. That being said, COVID has been the deepest motivator for this change. The fear of contracting the disease is what is hitting us most. It would be hard to find someone in our own circle of people who hasn’t contracted the virus which is scary to think about. Other than the amazement at the communication prowess of the country, the reason I am talking about this is because I have a little cold. In any other year, a cold can be easily blamed on the changing weather, allergies, or in my case — the overconsumption of iced drinks in the dead of winter. This year, all those reasons still apply but with COVID being a big caveat. My cold does seem like a very mild effect of the change of weather, the overuse of ice, and Natasha giving me her cold (as always) but any conversation I have with people, we do end up talking about the Coronavirus. I wonder for how long we will constantly worry about the virus. How we will survive this among the many other mutations this virus may see in the future, and most importantly, when will we actually start living our lives. The last point is one that keeps me up at night some times.

For days like this; days of utter despair — days where the mental fog is so thick that you can’t even see your next thought let alone the horizon, I tend to crave chocolate. Chocolate has seen so many forms this year. From the awful “pull me up” cake trend (I made one for a client, please dont hate me) to all the different kinds of chocolate cakes that content creators made — eggless, in a microwave, in a pressure cooker, in an air fryer. This pudding helps include some of our vegan friends while also being a lot more healthier than some of the other cocoa-based counterparts!

Glimpses from the week

Ingredients

⅓cup / 65 grams granulated sugar

⅓cup / 30 grams unsweetened cocoa powder

2tablespoons cornstarch

⅛ teaspoon fine sea salt

2cups / 480 millilitres non-dairy milk, preferably oat

3 to 4ounces / 85 to 115 grams bittersweet bar chocolate, finely chopped

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Method

1. In a medium saucepan, use a wooden spoon or silicone spatula to stir together the sugar, cocoa, cornstarch and salt. Slowly stir in the milk and keep stirring until smooth and combined.

2. Stir the mixture constantly over medium-low heat, scraping the bottom, sides and corners of the pan, until the pudding thickens, begins to bubble, and coats the back of the spoon or spatula, 5 to 10 minutes. (If the pudding is coating the bottom of the pan too quickly, reduce the heat.)

3. Add the chocolate and stir vigorously until the pudding is very thick and smooth, about 30 seconds longer.

4. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla. Spoon the pudding into a serving bowl or individual cups or ramekins. Serve warm, at room temperature or chilled (see Tip 2). It will thicken as it cools.