From vegoutmag.com
By Jordan Cooper
These plant-based takes on comfort food favourites hit different, and honestly, that's the whole point
Here's the thing about food memories: they're unreliable narrators. That beef stew your grandmother made? Your brain has been editing that footage for decades. The mac and cheese from childhood? Nostalgia added a filter.
When we veganize winter classics, we're not trying to create perfect replicas. We're making something that scratches the same itch while being its own delicious thing.
The best vegan comfort food doesn't pretend to be something it's not. It leans into what makes plant-based cooking interesting. Different textures, unexpected depth, flavours that make you pause and think "wait, what is that?" These six dishes capture the spirit of winter classics while doing their own thing.
They taste like the originals remembered wrong, which is to say, they taste like something worth remembering on their own terms.
1) Mushroom bourguignon that's earthier than you expected
Traditional beef bourguignon relies on hours of braising to break down tough meat fibres. Mushrooms don't need that kind of convincing. A mix of cremini, shiitake, and oyster mushrooms gives you layers of texture that beef never could. Some meaty, some silky, all soaking up that wine-rich sauce like little flavour sponges.
The secret is treating your mushrooms with respect. Sear them hard in batches so they get golden and caramelized, not sad and steamed. Build your fond, deglaze with a decent burgundy, and let everything simmer until the sauce coats a spoon.
Add pearl onions and carrots because tradition matters. The result is deeper and more complex than the beef version you're half-remembering. It's what your brain thought bourguignon tasted like, even if it never quite did.
2) Pot pie with a flaky top and creamy filling that defies logic
Pot pie is essentially a vehicle for creamy sauce under pastry.
Good news: both of those things veganize beautifully. A roux made with vegan butter and flour, thinned with vegetable stock and oat milk, creates that thick, spoonable filling you're chasing. Load it with chunks of potato, carrot, peas, and whatever protein you like. Chickpeas work. So does shredded jackfruit or cubed extra-firm tofu.
The crust situation is easier than you think. Most puff pastry is accidentally vegan anyway. Check your labels, but Pepperidge Farm and many store brands skip the butter. Drape it over your ramekins, brush with oat milk, and bake until golden and dramatic.
When you crack through that flaky top into the creamy filling below, your brain won't register any difference. It'll just register comfort.
3) Shepherd's pie where the lentils actually make sense
Lentils in shepherd's pie aren't a compromise. They're an upgrade. French green lentils hold their shape while still getting tender, and they absorb the tomato paste, worcestershire (the vegan kind), and herbs in a way that ground meat never quite manages.
The filling becomes this savoury, almost meaty situation that sits perfectly under a blanket of mashed potatoes.
Speaking of those potatoes: don't be shy with the vegan butter and a splash of oat cream. Whip them until they're cloud-like, then pile them on thick. A fork dragged across the top creates peaks that turn golden and slightly crispy in the oven.
The contrast between that crispy top and the saucy lentils below is what makes this dish work. It's hearty in a way that feels earned, not heavy.
4) Creamy tomato soup that's richer than the canned stuff ever was
Canned tomato soup was a childhood staple for a lot of us. That slightly sweet, vaguely creamy, bright orange situation paired with grilled cheese. The vegan version can be so much better while still hitting those same nostalgic notes. Roasted tomatoes give you depth that canned never could. A can of full-fat coconut milk adds richness without any dairy weirdness.
Roast your tomatoes with garlic and a little olive oil until they're blistered and jammy. Blend everything with vegetable stock, a touch of maple syrup to balance the acid, and that coconut milk. The result is silky, warming, and tastes like what you thought Campbell's tasted like when you were eight.
Pair it with a proper vegan grilled cheese and suddenly it's a snow day and nothing bad has ever happened.
5) Chili that converts the sceptics
Chili might be the easiest winter classic to veganize because beans were always the star anyway.
A three-bean situation with kidney, black, and pinto gives you texture variety. Walnuts pulsed in a food processor until they're crumbly add that ground-meat mouthfeel without any weird processed ingredients. They brown up beautifully and soak up all that chili flavour.
The key is building layers. Toast your spices in oil until fragrant. Add onions, peppers, and garlic. Let the tomatoes break down slowly. A splash of coffee or dark beer adds complexity that makes people ask what your secret is.
Top with cashew sour cream, green onions, and whatever else makes you happy. This is the kind of chili that wins cookoffs and starts arguments about whether it counts. It counts.
6) Hot chocolate that's somehow more chocolatey
Dairy milk actually mutes chocolate flavour. It's a coating thing, where the milk fat covers your taste buds and dulls the cocoa. Research on taste perception suggests that what we drink with chocolate affects how we experience it.
Oat milk lets the chocolate shine through in a way that feels almost too intense at first, then completely right.
Use good cocoa powder and real dark chocolate, melted together with your oat milk of choice. A pinch of salt, a tiny bit of vanilla, maybe a whisper of cinnamon if you're feeling fancy.
The result is hot chocolate that tastes more like chocolate than the dairy version ever did. It's what your brain thought hot chocolate tasted like during the best snow day of your childhood. Except this time, the memory is accurate.
Final thoughts
These dishes aren't trying to fool anyone. They're not pretending to be something they're not. What they are is delicious, warming, and satisfying in exactly the ways winter food should be. The fact that they're plant-based is almost beside the point once you're actually eating them.
Food memories are weird. They're shaped by emotion, context, and years of mental editing. When we make vegan versions of classics, we're not competing with reality. We're competing with nostalgia, which is a much easier opponent.
These dishes taste like the originals remembered wrong because the originals were never as good as we thought they were. These might actually be better. Or at least, they're good enough to become their own memories worth keeping.
