4 March 2026

Veganism has lost its cool

Big vendors are dropping their plant-based options. I can’t possibly think why

Photo by Simon Wilder / Millennium Images, Uk

The same species that built the Pyramids of Giza also made Speed 2: Cruise Control. Man painted Guernica but he also wrote “Sorry for Party Rocking”. Rick Stein changed the world with his treatment of Dover sole while I have to wonder if Captain Birdseye has ever actually met a fish in real life. For every David Beckham there’s a David Bentley. And brains of nearly identical chemical composition are responsible both for the Merlot of Château Pétrus and Oyster Bay. Such is the vast chasm between the peak and the doldrums of human innovation.

Anyway, I am on my lunch break eating plant-based, Italian-Asian fusion “carbonara” in perfect view of St Paul’s Cathedral. I do not think Christopher Wren would much like it here in Ludgate Circus Wagamama. These nouveau-industrial, exposed-brick, ersatz interiors run – I think – somewhat counter to the sensibilities of English baroque. And I would dread explaining to him the imperial reach katsu curry now has over the British psyche.

I am here to investigate the decline in popular veganism, spurred on by an encouraging report in the Guardian recently: “Is the UK’s love affair with vegetarian food over?” Encouraging, not because I welcome the industrial mistreatment of animals nor the reckless destruction of the environment for the sake of the meat trade – just the kind of person I am – but because England’s mainstream vegan offering is risibly poor and I am glad it is facing a reckoning. McDonald’s is axing most of its vegetarian menu; Domino’s and Wagamama are culling the vegan and plant-based options; “Veggie Pret” (self-explanatory) is closing down. The demand is just not there.

As I hold aloft a piece of “vegan bacon” with chopsticks (this is an Asian carbonara, keep up), I can hardly think why. It is made of glutinous flour, it looks like corrugated iron, and it tastes of, if anything, nothing. In place of pasta I am given udon noodles coated in what Wagamama claims is a “rich and creamy sauce”. That is a lie. Rich and creamy are adjectives associated with butter and miscellaneous dairy, respectively. Instead, what I have are udon noodles in a white, watery glaze. It is the slippiest thing I have ever eaten. Reflecting on this simulacrum (of a simulacrum) of a carbonara, Wagamama says: “The kind of mix that shouldn’t work.” Yes – shouldn’t and, in fact, doesn’t.

Next up (groan), more fusion. This time it is Mexico’s turn to suffer. I am presented with gyoza/taco hybrids filled with teriyaki mushrooms pretending to be meat. There is a frigid layer of sweet potato beneath. Pomegranate seeds are scattered with alarming force – it looks like the aftermath of a blitzkrieg. Rounding off all of this is a polite squeeze of “vegan mayo” on top, like a little hat. And, much like other hats, it’s totally inedible!

There is a cosmic problem with both culinary misadventures. Take carbonara – an indulgence that owes its success almost entirely to animal fat with a little help from egg yolk. You cannot change these material facts of its composition without changing its nature altogether. Or not, at least, without getting a stern talking to from your local Aristotelian. If you want to eat vegan, you must shake, suppress, resist or kill the desire for things like egg pasta or meat sauce. You must embrace the vegetal. This much should be obvious.

It is in all of our interests for vegetarian and vegan food to work on a mass scale: it’s better for us; it’s certainly better for the large and long-suffering poultry community. But Wagamama (and McDonald’s, Domino’s and others) have identified a real problem and answered it in the worst possible way: let’s make vegan food that aspires to taste like non-vegan food. Bacon made out of flour, mayonnaise made out of God knows what, cheese made of… nuts? I wonder if we might have a little more respect for plant-based menus if they weren’t so utterly embarrassed about what they really are.

I persevere through the meal – “meal” – as the facade of St Paul’s Cathedral looms over me. I almost want to apologise to Sir Christopher for the indiscretion, the corrugated bacon. Here it is, that vast chasm.

[Further reading: London hates tourists – just look at the West End]