Browse recipes

Game-day wings, baked not fried. Cauliflower florets dipped in a simple seasoned batter, baked until crisp, tossed in buffalo sauce and returned to the oven until sticky. Served with celery sticks and vegan ranch.

Blueberries cooked down with maple and thyme until they slump into a loose jam, spread under melting vegan cheese and griddled in butter until the edges go lacy and brown. Sweet against salt, the way fruit and cheese have always worked.

Whole carrots roasted buried in salt until they collapse to a silky, translucent texture, then peeled, sliced on a long diagonal and steeped in smoke, oil and vinegar. The salt crust does the work: it seasons and dehydrates at once.

Broccoli roasted hard until the edges char, then tossed hot in a creamy sweet-chili sauce with a sriracha kick. Sweet first, hot second, sharp underneath.

The most shareable thing in the booklet: a tray of tortilla chips scattered with cumin-spiced black beans, drizzled with blender cashew queso, then loaded with salsa, avocado, pickled jalapeños and cilantro.

A patty built from whole ingredients rather than bought in a box: mushrooms cooked dry, black beans mashed coarse, walnuts and oats for body. Seared hard for a real crust.

A platter of crisp fries buried under a thick lentil-and-tomato chili and a blended cashew cheese sauce, finished with scallions and jalapeños. The messiest, most shareable thing you can put on a table.

Firm tofu pressed and torn (never cut) into craggy nuggets, dipped in mustardy plant milk and coated in seasoned panko. Fry them or bake them; either way they're built for dipping.

Shredded jackfruit cooked down in smoky barbecue sauce until sticky, piled into a soft roll with a sharp vinegar slaw. The slaw is what stops it being too rich.

Torn oyster mushrooms dipped in a quick plant-milk buttermilk, dredged in seasoned flour and cornstarch, and fried until shatteringly crisp. The texture lands somewhere very close to fried chicken.

A blender sauce of soaked cashews and nutritional yeast that clings to every elbow of pasta: properly creamy, savory and comforting, with not a plastic slice of vegan cheese in sight.

A one-pot Louisiana classic, plant-based. The "holy trinity" of onion, celery and green pepper softened in oil, then rice toasted with Cajun seasoning and smoked paprika and simmered with tomatoes, kidney beans and stock until every grain is tender. Optional vegan sausage pushes the protein higher.

Oat-flour pancakes built on a scoop of vanilla plant protein and soy milk, sweetened by a mashed ripe banana rather than sugar. Cooked as small rounds so the soft batter flips cleanly. Light to eat but genuinely filling. Batch a pile of them and reheat through the week.

The weekend indulgence: seitan (or mushrooms) seared with soy sauce and vegan Worcestershire, piled into hoagie rolls with charred peppers and onions, then flooded with a blender cashew cheese sauce.

Oats, mashed banana and toasted walnuts baked into a soft, sliceable breakfast that keeps all week. Sweet enough from the fruit that it barely needs syrup.

Short-grain rice simmered slowly in coconut milk until it collapses into something thick, creamy and barely sweet, scented with cinnamon and vanilla.

Five minutes, one blender, no cooking. Ripe avocado and cocoa whipped into a mousse so dark and silky nobody will guess the base. Chill it and it sets like the real thing.

Chia seeds left to swell in vanilla-sweetened plant milk until thick and spoonable, layered with crushed berries. Five minutes of work the night before.

Crisp at the edge, soft in the middle, with seams of melted dark chocolate. Chopping a bar instead of using chips is what gives you the puddles.

Fudgy, properly dark brownies with ribbons of tahini swirled through the top. The sesame cuts the sweetness and makes them taste grown-up.

Twenty minutes from fridge to foil. Black salt is what makes it taste unmistakably of eggs. Don't skip it.

Dense, short and deeply peanutty, marked with the traditional fork crosshatch. The fastest cookie here: there is no butter to cream.

Fried tofu dragged through a cayenne paste made with the frying oil itself, so the heat goes on hot and stays glossy. Served the proper way, on soft white bread with pickles.

Pourable, molten and properly cheesy, with enough jalapeno to keep it interesting. It sets as it cools and loosens again with a splash of water.

Silky, garlicky and thick enough to coat every strand of pasta. Blended rather than cooked, so it takes about as long as boiling the water.

Hot sauce, chickpeas and something creamy, baked until it bubbles at the edges. The thing that vanishes first at every gathering it turns up to.

A patty pressed thin against a screaming hot pan until the whole underside turns to lace and crust. Cheese, pickles, and a bun that has seen butter.

Buttered rye griddled around a plant burger, melting vegan cheddar, deeply caramelized onions and a tangy special sauce. Full indulgence. The diner classic, done plant-based.

Cool, herby and thick enough to cling, with the sharpness that makes ranch worth having. Better after an hour in the fridge, and better still the next day.

Soft-centered, crisp-edged and rolled in sugar rather than iced, with lemon zest cutting the sweetness. Pale is the point.

Lentils and finely chopped mushrooms cooked down in a sweet, tangy tomato sauce until they hold together on a bun. Deliberately messy; that is the whole idea.

Chewy, hearty and heavily cinnamoned, with the oats left whole so they keep their bite. Better on the second day.

Green beans in a proper mushroom cream sauce made from scratch, under a lid of crisp fried onions. No condensed soup anywhere near it.

The five-minute-tonight, grab-and-go-tomorrow breakfast. Oats soften in the fridge overnight into a creamy, spoonable pot that tastes like a peanut butter and banana sandwich.

A dense, savory loaf of lentils and toasted walnuts under a sticky ketchup glaze that caramelizes at the edges. It slices cleanly, which is most of the battle.

Deep brown, glossy and savory enough to stand up to anything you pour it over. Built on properly browned mushrooms rather than on a stock cube.

Tall, flaky biscuits under a peppery white gravy full of browned sausage. The Sunday breakfast that ruins the rest of the day, in the best way.

Sweet potatoes baked until they slump, scooped out and whipped with butter, maple and cinnamon, then folded through with sharp apple, cranberries and toasted walnuts and sent back into the oven until the tops catch. The second bake is what makes it worth doing.

Crisp cubes of tofu in a sun-dried tomato cream sauce that tastes like it took an hour. It takes half of one, and that is the reason people keep making it.

Maple syrup infused with chili and a little vinegar until it is sweet, hot and sharp all at once. The vegan answer to hot honey, and it goes on everything.

Strawberries crushed into lemonade with a handful of basil. The basil sounds odd and is the entire reason to make it.

Medjool dates blitzed to a sticky paste with peanut butter, oats, cocoa and chia, rolled into bites and chilled. Naturally sweet with no added sugar.

The peels people throw away, scraped clean, forked into strands and cooked down with smoked paprika and barbecue sauce until they go dark, sticky and unnervingly meaty. It costs nothing and it convinces almost everybody.

A hearty one-skillet breakfast: sweet potato diced small and browned until tender, then folded through smoky paprika, cumin and black beans. High-fiber, high-protein, and it holds you well into the afternoon.

Thick, orange, deeply cheesy soup with broccoli soft enough to fall apart in it. Cashews and nutritional yeast do the work the cheddar used to.

Thick, dark and sweet, with molasses behind it and enough vinegar to keep it from cloying. The kind that goes on in the last five minutes so it does not burn.

Smoky, garlicky and the color of terracotta. Five minutes of work that makes fries, burgers and roast vegetables taste like somebody planned ahead.

A creamy vegetable and chickpea filling under a lid of puff pastry that shatters when you cut it. Everything about it is comfort, including the smell.