Cochoa: Moving Mountains with Homegrown Chocolate

Prachi Ojha and Sai Nair live in the mountains, running a two-room chocolate factory. They experiment not just with delicious chocolate, but with the healing benefits of cacao. Rehana Munir travels to Uttarakhand to meet them.
The hills have surrendered to rain and everything is mist and wistfulness. A chai stall stands close to the school and temple, in a village known for its rich bird life and cosy cottages where city folk come to escape, seeking a Himalayan cleanse. A short walk away, a chocolate factory whirrs in this lush corner of Sattal, named for its seven interconnected emerald lakes.
What strikes you first is the simplicity of the set up. Two interconnected rooms. A couple of small refrigerators, a stone work surface, a medium-sized industrial grinder, and a home-style wet grinder. No Willy Wonka spectacle. No inspirational quotes. Not even a signboard. And then, as you taste your first piece of chocolate, the rich complexity of flavours blows you away. To city palates accustomed to gastronomic riches from the world over, it feels like a homecoming. For co-founders Prachi Ojha and Sai Nair, who live a few steps away, in a spartan home with a scenic view, it is literally so.
From the grind to the grinder
“Cochoa’s journey began in the mad grind of Mumbai, even though its name comes from an elusive Himalayan bird,” says Sai, as the cacao grinder spins in dizzying revolutions beside us. “Of course, our chocolates were delicious back then too, but there is something special to food not made in dusty, industrial zones, but instead, in the clean, crisp forest air of the mountains.”
For him, the grind was a soul-sucking corporate job; and for his wife, Prachi, a high-pressure legal career that offered zero work-life balance. The age-old solution came to their rescue: run to the hills. But it’s never that simple, as any postmodern fantasist will tell you. How, for instance, did the chocolate makers, both 35, cope with the professional and existential, despair of the pandemic?
“We started full-fledged operations in the second half of 2019, our break came with the Kala Ghoda festival in Mumbai in February, 2020,” remembers Prachi. “Just as we got the boost, the big lockdown hit and everything came to a halt. That was the time we sat down to take stock of our lives, and began to seriously consider moving to the mountains.
“We made the actual move in the last week of February, 2021, and were in the process of setting up our factory when the deadly second wave of Covid hit and stopped us in our tracks once again. And so, we focused on what we could do instead: support our loved ones, and the community, in every way possible, whether it was by locating oxygen concentrators or just baking fresh cookies. The first lockdown made us realise we don’t belong in a concrete jungle, but a real one. The second made us see that we don’t just make chocolate but, in fact, spread love,” Sai says with almost childlike earnesty.
The story of our experiments with cacao
I request a chocolate-making demo and am obliged by Manisha, the couple’s comrade-in-arms. She tempers molten chocolate and pours it into slim moulds. She makes the process look effortless. A pleasing minimalism pervades the air, but there’s something else at work here. So much of what the Cochoa duo says about chocolate making has to do with the soul of things. Just how deep does their love for chocolate run? It is clearest in their experiments with hot chocolate, of which cacao is the prime ingredient.
“We didn’t want to be limited to just theoretical knowledge, but to see first-hand if cacao actually does benefit the drinker. And so, we chose a recipe that retains the maximum benefits of cacao: just three ingredients – the required portion from our Drinking Cacao disc (which is pure cacao and nothing else), water and honey/jaggery/raw sugar. Over time, we noticed its positive effect on our own mood and focus. We knew we were in it for life,” beams Sai.
Healing for sceptics
Experiments with culinary science can only take you so far, I soon discover. The a-ha factor is more nebulous.
“During our research we read a lot about how cacao was part of important events in ancient Mayan and Aztec cultures. We were also aware of modern cacao ceremonies, but their main aim is to use cacao as a medium to connect with the self – to focus, calm and clear one’s mind. We were always slightly sceptical about these ceremonies, but the more we read and watched, the more curious we got,” he confesses.
Prachi continues: “Then, a sound healer/therapist friend got interested, too. So, we decided to get a group of friends together, made and drank cacao, and followed it up with meditation and immersive sounds created using various instruments. We did it as sceptics, honestly, expecting nothing special. But what emerged was pure magic. Sai felt like he came back to himself after months of being agitated, angry and irritated. He felt a sense of inner peace. It helped me with deeper introspection and in gaining clarity. So, this was a big eureka moment where we discovered how powerful cacao can be.”
Fresh, with lashings of nostalgia
The world of food has never been more varied; there’s a treat for every palate, and a substitute for every perceived vice. In such a scenario, the temptation to give the consumer whatever she desires must be tremendous, I observe. “We get requests to make our chocolate ‘healthier’ by adding seeds or the superfood of the year, like Lakadong turmeric, to give one example. Haldi is an intrinsic part of Indian culinary traditions, but we were not satisfied with our experiments with it. A few years ago, sugar-free chocolates were the trend, but we stayed away since the side effects of sugar-free additives are unknown. We believe in presenting a range of great flavours and tastes that are inspired and innovative without subscribing to any trend,” explains Prachi.
So, how does this translate to a chocolate menu?
“Some of our products, like the Classic Milk, are similar to chocolates that we have grown up eating but just … better. Some, like the Winter Kesar, which tastes like kulfi or kesar doodh, or Desert Rose, are unfamiliar in chocolate form, but so evocative of childhood flavours,” she adds. “While these creations are inspired by traditional tastes, we also deeply believe in innovation. That’s how we’ve been able to transplant traditional tastes to our original creations. Coconut Pepper and Bonobo [starring banana and peanut butter], for instance, are flights of the imagination!”
Pure, raw, artisanal, locally-sourced, ethically grown … the list of feel-good buzzwords associated with mindful brands is growing with the confidence of pine trees in the mountains. Has the move to the hills helped them achieve any of these? “Today, our ingredients have gotten cleaner and fresher. Our products are made with good intent by good people. And, most importantly, they’re made fresh. In fact, people who buy from our factory often get chocolates right out of the mould, unlike chocolates that are sometimes as old as two years. The mountains have taught us to truly live, love and care,” says Sai, fresh off a plunge in the secluded Garud lake, in one of the brief dry spells of the season.
We have a dream
But even an idyllic chocolate factory in the hills must occasionally be the site of interpersonal conflict. And working alongside your life partner carries its own baggage, whatever the altitude.
“Cochoa and we are one,” says Sai, calling himself both pragmatist and dreamer. “Though this twinning has not come easy: Prachi and I fought a lot while building Cochoa, but we’ve only come out stronger. Love and empathy are the most important things in life – be it on the personal or work front.”
Since dreams have guided much of the Cochoa story, I ask the obvious question. Sai goes first. “I dream of a world where humanity lives a more joy-filled and purposeful life. I know it’s surprising to hear someone who makes chocolate say something so philosophical. But it’s exactly what we work towards every day of our lives.” A rousing defence for the chocolate-as-therapy argument.
Prachi reiterates this idea. “My dream is for Cochoa to have a positive social impact. I want it to be a place of respite, rejuvenation, inspiration and joy.” I bite into a dark Idukki bar, with beans sourced from Kerala, and am inclined to believe.
Rehana Munir is a novelist, columnist and culinary nostalgist based in Bombay.
Cochoa products are available for purchase here: https://cochoa.in/collections/all
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