Browse recipes

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.