Of all the foodstuffs I put past my lips in 2022, high-street chain Wagamama fed me something that was probably the most controversial. Have you tried its vegan fake egg, no-duck donburi? The one with the replica egg made of coconut milk and sriracha mayonnaise? Is the mere mention of this “egg” causing a vein in your neck to throb? Like Piers Morgan’s incandescence at Greggs’ vegan sausage roll, which was devoid of pig cruelty, but still harming him?
If you’re trying Veganuary for the first time this year, you’ve come at an interesting time. British hospitality’s approach to vegetarians and vegans has pivoted 180 degrees since the bad old days of the pub-grub microwaved veggie lasagne made with a sachet of Batchelors Beanfeast that tasted like yeasty gravel. The change has been seismic: meat-free diets are these days catered for everywhere I go, from fine dining and fancy to KFC’s vegan Quorn patty “coated in their 11 famous herbs and spices”.
One of 2022’s best openings was Chantelle Nicholson’s Apricity, which features a vegetable-heavy menu where tempura kraut with cashew cheese, Knepp radish salad and jalapeños sits beside Brambletye celeriac with chestnuts and fava beans. This is a long way from the days when my father, back in the mid-1980s, apologised for my teenage vegetarian presence in the doorway of every cafe or pub dining room we walked into. “Table for three,” he’d say. “And this one who won’t eat meat. I know! Bloody silly idea from some pop star.” (He meant Morrissey, who is to blame for most things.) Serving staff would gather around, forlorn, wonder if scampi was strictly an animal, then offer potato wedges with lettuce.
I added meat back into my diet in the 1990s, but I am perfectly happy living mainly on things that didn’t once have a face or a family, so this new wave of dining is welcome. What changed, I think, is that restaurants saw there is money in them there tofu-eaters. Not just among the Guardian-reading wokerati, but in those who avoid dairy due to dietary issues, or pork for religious belief, or beef over concerns about CO2 levels. And all this means that, at Wagamama, your server will now ask, “Do you need the vegan menu?”, before proffering a list of yasai gyoza, bang bang cauliflower, sticky vegan ribs, panko aubergine bao and, of course, that aforementioned egg dish, which right now is possibly making some readers really very angry. Because, if vegans don’t want to eat egg, why are they buying a replica one? And if they love chickens so much, why are they making their clucky friends surplus to earthly needs? And what if a real egg-eater got all confused by the term “vegan egg” and bought the wrong type? Surely the egg industry must copyright the word “egg”, prosecute all pretenders and lock them up on an artichoke-only diet.
All of these sane comments – not to mention the rest – are typical whenever I write that I love the buffalo glaze burger at Temple of Seitan or Kinda.co’s farmhouse “cheese”. In fact, sometimes it feels that hospitality’s move to make every diner happy actually made no one truly content. Because, now, health experts wince at veganism’s ultra-processed fake meat, nut milks filled with seed oils and reliance on powdered pea protein, or claims that leaky gut, eczema or depression can be cured with riced cauliflower and turmeric. Meanwhile, “true” vegans despise half-hearted flexitarians for “appropriating their belief system” down at Hungry Horse by eating the cinnamonkey bread while still torturing bees by eating their honey.
Furthermore, as smallhold British farmers are bombarded with Alan Partridge-style abuse – “You make pigs smoke, you feed beef burgers to swans” – there was a reported uptick in carnivore diets in 2022. This led to global TikTok sensation The Liver King ramming kilos of raw cow spleen into his face while claiming he’d bio-hacked his way to life eternal. So forgive me for shying away from further discussions on that fake egg, because things in vegan land can get a little testy, even if the seitan duck in cherry sauce is yummy.
Still, I can enjoy the pleasures that the vegan revolution offers, such as at The Lingholm Kitchen in the Lake District the other day, where the meaty menu of croque monsieur with glazed ham, stuffed turkey breast and 12-hour pulled beef hash also features a very good vegetable pakora wrap stuffed with hummus, mango chutney and spinach; there’s also a roast squash and chestnut pastry parcel with cranberry gravy.
Even the caterers at my father’s funeral in Carlisle at Christmas offered vegetarian afternoon tea with finger sandwiches, soup and cakes to suit all whims, needs and fancies. I could hear his voice as I put in the order: “Do you have anything for my daughter? This one says she doesn’t like meat!”
