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Happy Snacking, Don’t Die!

Food is all around us, if we’re patient and perceptive enough to look. For me, it’s something of a personal mantra. My passion for foraging took root in childhood, when I first discovered wild raspberries along the side of the road with my dad. In San Francisco, it truly blossomed, where Golden Gate Park became a veritable salad buffet, helping augment my meager college student’s budget.

Foraging, once a necessity for survival, is now an endangered skill. Whether it’s a lack of awareness or a lack of access, fewer people than ever are feeding themselves with the incredible abundance found right in our backyards. Happy Snacking, Don’t Die! by Alexis Nikole Nelson, better known as @blackforager to the online world, is a cookbook and a guidebook all in one, set on introducing the open-minded to the wonders of wild edibles.

Alexis is the ideal teacher for her inviting, disarmingly gentle, and encouraging approach, while taking the laws of the land seriously. As one could surmise from the title, she doesn’t romanticize foraging or gloss over its inherent dangers. Instead, she repeatedly emphasizes proper identification, ethical harvesting, and knowing when to simply leave a plant alone. That grounding makes the book feel trustworthy, even as its playful tone keeps things light.

Photo by JB Douglas

What elevates Happy Snacking, Don’t Die! beyond a field guide with recipes is Alexis herself. Her curiosity is infectious, her humor lands naturally, and her passion for reconnecting people with the landscape around them shines through on every page. The educational sections are approachable without talking down to the reader, making even unfamiliar botanical concepts feel accessible.

The recipes are similarly welcoming. Rather than treating wild ingredients as exotic novelties, Alexis incorporates them into dishes that feel both achievable and genuinely worth making. Some recipes inevitably depend on access to specific plants that not every reader will encounter, but that’s less a flaw of the book than a reality of regional foraging. More importantly, they illustrate the culinary potential of ingredients that most of us have spent our lives overlooking.

Candied Violets

Edible flowers have always been a favorite find of mine, since store-bought blossoms pale in comparison, if not outright wilt and rot in their packages. Candied Violets (page 53) preserve the harvest in aquafaba and sugar, using the same time-honored techniques that pastry chefs have practiced for centuries. Delicate and fragile as butterfly wings, they take on a crystalline sheen as they dry. Made for adorning equally precious sweet treats, even the broken petals can serve as beautiful natural sprinkles.

Lambsquarters & Artichoke Dip

Lambsquarters are also known as “wild spinach,” so it makes sense that they can seamlessly slip into the role of the conventional supermarket staple. Lambsquarters & Artichoke Dip (page 139), they blend right into a crowd-pleasing appetizer that no one would ever suspect started with a common backyard weed. Carried by the creamy, cheesy base, I can see any type of green vegetable working here, depending on what you can find in season.

Oyster Mushroom Chowda

Though I personally prefer a thick chowder, full of vegetables and herbs, the more brothy Oyster Mushroom Chowda (page 242) is no less comforting, especially on a chilly day. My mushrooms weren’t exactly foraged, but at least they were homegrown, thanks to a neighbor whose enthusiasm for cultivating oyster mushrooms has benefited my kitchen as well. Kombu and dulse lend a distinctly oceanic flavor, evocative of the mollusks that inspired the stew. It’s a restrained combination of ingredients that simply works, allowing the mushrooms’ natural umami to shine while scratching the same itch as a classic seafood chowder.

Juniper-Cured Carrot Lox

I’ve made a lot of lox in my lifetime; carrot, beet, tomato, konjac, eggplant. Juniper-Cured Carrot Lox (page 257) adds a new dimension to the typical formula, infusing the familiar smoky, salty profile with bright, piney, resinous notes. Peeled into long ribbons, the carrots soften almost instantly as the flax oil and curing mixture infuse through each strand. Draping easily over a bagel with cream cheese in a silky garland, additional garnishes are nice, but unnecessary when there’s already so much flavor packed into each bite.

Black Walnut Ice Cream

I may be a cheat in this case, but I’m not a liar. I’ll tell you right up front that I foraged for nothing to make the Maple Black Walnut Ice Cream (page 196). For shame, I did purchase the walnuts and maple syrup, and used cornstarch instead of Acorn Starch (page 176), too. What’s remarkable here is how many components of this recipe could be made from scratch if you were inclined to take things further. Even the vanilla extract has an optional upgrade path, with homemade Nocino (page 199) standing in for a deeper, walnut-inflected alternative. More sweet than nutty, I wish there was more emphasis placed on the nuts, though the high sugar content does keep the texture perfectly soft and scoopable straight from the freezer.

We spend so much of our lives filtering out the plants around us that they become little more than green background noise. Through equal parts natural history, personal storytelling, and practical instruction, Happy Snacking, Don’t Die! teaches readers to see again. Even if you’re never lucky enough to harvest morels from your local forest, you’ll likely come away looking at what does grow in your neighborhood with newfound appreciation.

October 2, 2026October 2, 2026

Hannah (BitterSweet)12 Comments

Asian Persuasion

Anything, be it a restaurant, dish, or book, labeled as “Asian” gives me pause. It feels like a reductive, overly simplistic term to encompass a staggering number of cultures. Even with a fair amount of overlap with shared ingredients and techniques, it’s less descriptive than the term “European,” which I daresay no food writer would attempt today.

For all my misgivings, The Vegan Asian Kitchen: 100+ Plant-Based Recipes Inspired by Malaysia, China, Thailand, and Beyond by WoonHeng Chia manages to steer clear of the obvious pitfalls to shine a light on a range of unique, distinctive dishes from the region, proving that a title never tells the full story.

Having grown up in Kuala Lumpur, Ms. Chia’s approach to cooking reflects a lifetime spent navigating the intersections of diverse foodways and traditions. Rather than flattening those influences into a bland, marketable caricature, she embraces their specificity, offering recipes rooted in personal experience while acknowledging the broader tapestry of regional specialties that have shaped her palate.

I began with the Thai Basil Zhua Bing (Flaky Layered Pancakes), page 337, drawn in by the promise of flaky, crisp dough layered with herbs. Being a visual learner, I found the written instructions for shaping the dough difficult to picture at first, and I had to read them more than once before committing to the process. A quick visit to WoonHeng’s blog, however, provided the clarity I needed in the form of step-by-step photographs that made quick work of the procedure. Once pan-seared, the results justified the means entirely. Exteriors blistered into delicate, golden layers that shattered slightly at the edges while remaining tender within, they were fragrant, slightly chewy, and deeply satisfying in a way that needed no accoutrements.

The Sweet and Sour “Fish,” page 117, immediately grabbed my attention, having only ever encountered a version of it at one of my favorite local food trucks, Bodhi Viet Vegan. Here, WoonHeng builds the fish facsimile from a base of blended tofu and oyster mushrooms, wrapped in nori and rice paper, which is then seared, sliced, and seared again before being lacquered in a glossy sweet-and-sour sauce.

Truth be told, I felt like a complete novice as I stumbled through my first attempt. I likely wrapped the rolls too tightly, and during the first sear, the rice paper split in several places. Forget about making clean slices out of that mess. Fortunately, I was able to reshape most of the pieces into reasonably acceptable medallion shapes, which held together better after a light dusting of cornstarch and a final flash in the pan. Finishing the dish with fresh cucumber and tomato added the perfect contrast to the sharp sauce and soft protein. Though not as polished as I’d prefer, I’m still impressed that it’s possible to recreate such a rare delicacy right at home, rather than resorting to a store-bought option.

Loaded with colorful vegetables, chewy glass noodles, and tofu, the Pad Woon Sen (Stir Fried Glass Noodles), page 241, feels instantly familiar, even if you’ve never tried it before. An essential staple on any Thai menu, it’s a case study in balance and simplicity. Savory, salty, spicy, sour, and subtly sweet, I think it would be impossible for even the pickiest of eaters to find fault in the complete package. My only moment of hesitation came when I noticed the recipe called for cubing the tofu while the photo showed short batons, which seemed better suited to intertwining around the glossy, slippery noodles. It’s a tiny detail, though, and one that was quickly forgotten once I took my first bite.

It doesn’t take a trained eye to notice the author’s clear affinity for mushrooms in these pages. Used liberally as everything from a seasoning to meat-replacement, the fittingly named king oyster mushrooms are most commonly tapped for grand centerpieces. I couldn’t resist the idea of dressing up the most humble of fungus, the common white button mushroom, as Kung Pao Button Mushrooms, page 123. Unmistakably bold, sharp with the heat of both acid and spice, each lightly fried little morsel is a whole mouthful. If you’re craving an assertive, umami snack to serve with cold beer, you can’t do much better than this.

Dim sum has always captivated me, especially considering how few restaurants nearby cater to vegan clientele. Lo Bak Gou (Turnip or Radish Cakes), page 163, was one particular small plate I had been circling for quite sometime, always intending to make at home but never quite working up the nerve to try. Cut into neat slabs and crisp edges, gilded with a golden sear, I was certain they were more the work of a professional chef, not a home cook. This recipe proved the opposite. Straightforward, almost disarmingly so, and far more affordable than a comparatively meager order, my fears evaporated along with the steam escaping from the sautéed daikon. I took a small shortcut and crisped the pieces in the air fryer instead of shallow-frying, delivering delicate crusts giving way to creamy interiors, using a fraction of the oil.

Part of what makes The Vegan Asian Kitchen so valuable is its refusal to compromise. Ms. Chia introduces readers to ingredients, techniques, and dishes that remain underrepresented in most English-language vegan cookbooks. By the same token, that commitment can present challenges for those who lack access to well-stocked Asian markets.

The book also contains a wide range of complexity. Many recipes are approachable enough for weeknight cooking, while others demand considerable time, preparation, or technical skill. Rather than viewing this as a flaw, it may be more accurate to see the latter as aspirational, inviting adventurous foodies to expand their repertoires and try something new.

This is definitely a case where you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, unless you’re referring to the mouthwatering photography that hints of more to come. While “Asian” may be an imperfect descriptor, it can still serve as a doorway to stories, techniques, and flavors that deserve a closer look.

August 14, 2026August 15, 2026

Hannah (BitterSweet)13 Comments

Cook This Book: Tamu

I know remarkably little about African cuisine, but what I do know, unfortunately, is that I’m not alone in that. We consider ourselves a global society, immutably interconnected from here on out, and yet outside of Africa, which is the second largest continent on Earth, the food is largely lost in translation.

Even in the most diverse, metropolitan cities in America, where so many other cultures are celebrated, finding a restaurant specializing in any African food is like striking gold. I mean that both in the sense that the chances of it happening are exceedingly rare, and if you do happen to luck out, you’ll be truly rich.

That’s why I was so quite frankly thunderstruck by the depth and breadth of culinary knowledge contained within the pages of Tamu: A Journey Through Africa’s Plant-Based Cuisine by Jane Nshuti.

Right out of the gate, this is different from the average cookbook. Written with a distinct perspective and zero pretense, Ms. Nshuti manages to bridge the divide between instruction and inspiration seamlessly. She stays true to her heritage, writing from only her perspective and experiences to share a genuine, personal account of a life lived through food.

Ingredients are explained, not dumbed down, refusing to pander to the lowest common denominator. If you’re hungry to learn, all the tools and information you need are right here, at your disposal. Ravenous to expand my own palate, it was a revelation to read about so many ingredients and dishes that have never even been my radar before.

First off, Africa is not a monolith. Elegantly illustrating this point, recipe chapters are divided by country of origin, each one part of Ms. Nshuti’s personal path. Debunking the misconceptions that African food is “too starchy, too heavy, and too meaty” with every turn of the page, the fact that the whole book is vegan wouldn’t even register if not overtly stated. Having grown up with limited means herself, it feels like a wildly affordable luxury every time I sat down with a new dish in front of me. Abundance is implied; joy is inherent.

Green Banana Curry (page 96) from Tanzania provided my first real introduction to matoke, which are confusingly referred to as simply “green bananas” in most cases. No, they’re not unripe Cavendish bananas nor plantains, matoke are small, starchy, and vaguely reminiscent of white sweet potatoes when cooked. Stewed with coconut milk, spices, and vibrant fresh vegetables, the dish is positively dazzling. It’s an easy entry point towards appreciating the understated magnificence of this misunderstood staple.

Egusi Soup (page 164) from Nigeria had been on my wish list for a very long time. Egusi seeds, derived a melon distantly related to the watermelon, are ground into a coarse paste to form the rich foundation of this stew. Eggplant, mushrooms and soy strips take the place of animal protein, though you could easily adapt that to anything you have on hand. Spiked by the heat of habanero, dawadawa seeds (fermented locust beans) add an irreplaceable complexity that’s utterly crave-worthy. Perhaps it’s an unorthodox addition, but I thought that a dollop of shito makes it even better.

My only critique is that while the photo shows some sort of greens cooked down into the mix, there’s no mention of anything of the sort in the recipe or accompanying text. Further research tells me that ugwu (fluted pumpkin leaf), uziza leaf (pepper leaf), bitter leaf, or waterleaf are traditional inclusions, while spinach, kale, or collard greens are common alternatives outside of Africa.

Banfora Cakes (page 206) from Burkina Faso are often described as pineapple Welsh cakes, which fall somewhere between scones and pancakes, cooked on a hot griddle. I’d like to further confuse the uninitiated by saying that they remind me of sweet biscuits, crispy around the edges and fluffy on the inside, perfectly at home on the dinner table if not for the finishing sprinkle of cinnamon sugar on top. They strike me as the ideal solution to urgent cravings, since they use basic staples and come together in roughly 30 minutes from start to finish.

Umureti Wa Okara (page 19) is just one example of how the author maintains her distinct perspective in honoring traditional African foods while also using their inspiration to create her own unique dishes. A simple chickpea flour omelette gets a new lease on life with the addition of pan-fried okra and fresh cilantro. It blurs the boundaries between nations, speaking fluently in the universal language of a good meal. That said, my omelette quickly turned into a scramble, failing twice to hold together as intended. Purportedly just a single serving, it easily turned into two, or even three if served with a side.

Some chapters are necessarily shorter than others. Relaying memories alongside recipes flowing naturally from storytelling to suppertime, each page is a reflection of the Ms. Nshuti’s life; nothing more, nothing less. For places that made a bigger impact on her passion for cooking, there are naturally more recipes inspired by those experiences. There’s no breathless hyperbole pushing the reader along. Instead, we’re only asked to follow, if we’re hungry and curious enough, to learn more.

“Tamu” can be translated as sweet, pleasant, nice, or tasty, depending on who you ask. All seem like fine explanations for the contents of this cookbook, though I’d argue it deserves greater praise than that.

July 24, 2026July 25, 2026

Hannah (BitterSweet)6 Comments

Fungi-Curious

Mushrooms need no introduction around here, but I realize that in many kitchens, they still do. People who profess a distaste for mushrooms tend to think of white button mushrooms, the most common supermarket specimen that do no justice to the fungi kingdom. Bland, rubbery, and watery when cooked, it’s no wonder why most people cite the texture as being the biggest turnoff. However, that’s like dismissing all chocolate because you once ate a stale Tootsie Roll. The world of mycology is vast, wonderful, weird, and wildly misunderstood.

Oyster mushrooms are the gateway mushroom, if you ask me, capable of converting the skeptics. Frilly, delicate, and almost floral in appearance when raw, they undergo a complete personality transformation once introduced to heat. Their edges crisp and caramelize like shredded carnitas, while maintaining an almost buttery interior. They shred beautifully, drink in marinades with an unquenchable thirst, and can swing from smoky barbecue to spicy curry without missing a beat.

Fungitarian Packages in All Five Flavors

With this strong foundation, Fungitarian by Windy City Mushroom is bridging the gap between mushroom skeptics and obsessives alike. Built around organically grown oyster mushrooms, these ready-to-eat meal starters let mushrooms shine, flexing their umami prowess to full effect. Randomly stumbling upon the frozen packages one day at Sprouts, I knew I couldn’t leave without a full cart.

Mushroom Toast

Don’t mistake the Original for being simple based on its versatility. Simmered in white wine with a garlic-forward finish, the short list of ingredients comes together with remarkable complexity. Being so adaptable doesn’t mean it lacks personality, it means it knows exactly when to step forward and when to let everything else shine. No dish is off limits nor any cuisine out of bounds. Fold it into creamy risotto, heap it onto sourdough toast with avocado, toss it into pasta, or crisp it in the air fryer and eat it like fried potato sticks. We’d be here all day if I kept listing serving suggestions.

Basic Bean Tacos

Taco, meanwhile, was made with a clear destination in mind. Smoky chipotles impart warmth without overwhelming the coriander, cumin, and oregano seasoning blend. It practically begs to be swaddled in charred tortillas with slabs of avocado and a reckless amount of salsa verde. Any of your Mexican and Tex-Mex favorites are candidates for this inclusion, from appetizers to the main event. Stuff it into burritos, quesadillas, enchiladas, gorditas, or directly into your mouth using tortilla chips as edible shovels.

Snap Pea Stir Fry

Asian food is a broad category that’s difficult to elegantly define. Asian Zing understood the assignment. Ginger, garlic, soy sauce, and just enough sweetness create a glossy, punchy flavor bomb that feels tailor-made for rice bowls, stir-fries, noodles, or lettuce wraps. The oyster mushrooms soak it all up beautifully, becoming intensely savory little umami sponges with crisp edges and chewy centers. Cooked simply, as packaged, it’s still delicate enough not to upset the balance of fresh vegetable sushi, while the addition of bird’s eye chilies make it an ideal fit for fiery Thai pad kra pao.

Backyard BBQ Sandwiches

BBQ is serious business around here and this one doesn’t mess around. Smoky in a natural way that sings of smoldering hickory, there’s genuine heat to the seasoning rather than the usual sticky sweetness I’ve come to expect. Saucy and just messy enough to require extra napkins, it takes a big swing and lands the hit with every bite. Piled onto a toasted bun with crunchy slaw, it channels full summer cookout energy without needing a grill, a smoker, or your uncle Greg insisting he “knows meat.” I bet he could even be fooled for their facility in mimicking pulled pork or shredded brisket texture, while tasting unmistakably better, containing the savory depth most people spend hours trying to coax out of a hulking primal cut.

Creamy Polenta with Mushroom Ragu

I was surprised to hear from the founder that Marinara proved more complicated to explain than others. Not a full sauce, it could be transformed into one with crushed tomatoes and a luxurious slow simmer on the stove, but they stand alone as marinara-flavored meatless morsels. As such, it’s an ideal addition to dishes that would drown if given all that additional liquid. Spoon it over soft polenta, layer it into lasagna, stuff it into baked shells, or bake it with penne and plenty of vegan cheese to give any of the classics a considerable upgrade.

The beauty of Fungitarian is that any of the designated flavors are more suggestions than rigid rules. Seamlessly sliding between different foodways, you could easily infuse a bit of taco spice into your favorite pasta and red sauce, while marinara could be the start of your next great tikka masala. It’s an ideal springboard for inspiration when you’re short on ideas and big on hunger, or the foundation for greater culinary creativity. Although I almost splashed out and ate my whole stash without venturing into the realm of recipes, there was one idea that was calling me from the start: the French Dip Sandwich.

Stretching the Original with thinly shaved super-firm tofu gives you even more to love, not to mention more surface area to soak in marinade. Lightly caramelized and loaded into crusty bread, then draped with melted vegan cheese, I dare you to find me a mushroom hater when these babies are on the table. I also question the sanity of the person who first looked at this and decided to dunk the whole mess in leftover pan drippings to make sure every bite was sopping wet, but you know what, I respect the choice and dutifully follow suit. Au jus is a beautiful thing, and I found that I do, in fact, appreciate a sandwich utterly soaked, through and through, with pure umami excess.

I love seeing plants in meat-dominated fields. Reclaiming recipes long treated as inaccessible to vegans, oyster mushrooms strike me as a natural evolution of the centerpiece. Don’t call it an imitation when mushrooms are the real asset that can’t be matched.

Continue reading “Fungi-Curious” →

June 5, 2026June 7, 2026

Hannah (BitterSweet)8 Comments

Every Minute Counts

Isa Chandra Moskowitz needs no introduction, and yet, I still can’t help but try. Considered by many as the godmother of modern veganism, her cookbooks are often the first tome of any new convert. Countless burgeoning vegans have been raised on her recipes, fed by Isa’s no-nonsense approach to cooking and wry, irreverent voice. Her first book, Vegan with a Vengeance, wrought by The Post Punk Kitchen cooking show in an era when mainstream chefs would turn up their noses at anything meatless, was utterly groundbreaking. 21 years later, she hasn’t stopped churning out the hits.

The 29-Minute Vegan: Real Food, Real Vibes, Anytime is the latest addition to this legacy, feeling both timely and timeless in its delivery. More people are cooking at home than ever, but lengthy, complicated projects are off the table. This clearly has the edge on the more common 30-minute meal deals; “everyone could use an extra minute in their day,” as Isa explains. Since I’m guilty of defaulting to 10-minute meals, I’m clearly well-equipped for this sort of speed run. That’s why I’m honored to have helped develop and test recipes for the project. On every glossy page, however, Isa’s brilliance shines through.

Yuba Chick’n Noodle Soup

For a cookbook that’s easy to love, it’s incredibly difficult to know where to start. Encompassing classic comfort foods like Yuba Chick’n Noodle Soup with genuine soul, Caesar Pasta Salad with Tempeh Croutons that puts a heartier twist on traditional leafy affair, and Stovetop Spinach Artichoke Dip that would be the talk of any party, even picky eaters could crack open the book and instantly find something to love.

Roasted Cauliflower Romesco Steaks

Isa’s distinctive style shines most brightly when she fuses the foreign and familiar, like Roasted Cauliflower Romesco Steaks worthy of a gourmet menu, Curry Cauliflower Tacos with Mango Salsa and Coconut Raita which defy definition by any single cuisine, and Tahini Crispy Rice Treats with Date Caramel that would put other bake sale treats to shame.

Buttery Almond French Toast

What further differentiates The 29-Minute Vegan is Isa’s commitment to using whole, unprocessed ingredients. Sure, it would be a breeze to slap together a sandwich with sliced bread, meatless cold cuts, and dairy-free cheese, but you wouldn’t need a recipe for that, now would you? This approach honors the people that actually want to cook, but simply don’t have the time to waste on convoluted prep and performative aesthetics.

Pad Thai Simply To Die For

Making things easier without dumbing them down is the greatest victory of the whole 250+ page compendium. Why make compromises when you can just make things differently, and ultimately, better? It doesn’t take much effort, or, as the title would imply, time.

Eggplant Parmesan Soup

Though I’d sooner eat the actual book, hard-bound spine and all, than choose a single favorite recipe, I’d eagerly nominate the Eggplant Parmesan Soup as a top pick. Isa says it best: “Eggplant parm is one of the first things I started eating when I went vegetarian, and I’m sure I will be making it until my dying days. But I save the whole production for leisurely moments, because I’ve discovered that this soup can actually get me there without all the breading, frying, and clean-up. Tender eggplant, rich tomatoes, and toasted breadcrumbs swim together in a velvety broth, topped with garlicky rustic sourdough croutons. Cheesy, garlicky, satisfying—all the flavors you love with a fraction of the work. But don’t try to put this in a sandwich, you messy bitch.” Even more graciously, she’s agreed to share this winning recipe below, in case you weren’t already sold.

Black-Eyed Pea Bolognese

Ordinarily, I’d say that The 29-Minute Vegan is a cookbook you should always keep on the kitchen shelf, but that misses the mark. You’ll want to use it so often, it’ll never have a proper resting place.

Continue reading “Every Minute Counts” →

May 1, 2026May 1, 2026

Hannah (BitterSweet)10 Comments

De Nada; You’re Welcome

“You’re welcome” is typically heard as a response, reflexive and impersonal, to any verbal show of gratitude. De Nada Cantina implies a fuller understanding: you are welcome.

Crispy Mushroom Picadillo Taco

Putting hospitality first, De Nada believes that when you put people first, the rest will follow. Judging by the nearly unanimous raves for their original downtown Austin location, they’ve got that equation right. As founder Stephen Shallcross explains it, “Hospitality is about taking care of people. We believe in hospitality. It doesn’t mean treating anyone, be they vegans, or gluten-free, or wheelchair users, as special. Everyone should be taken care of equally. It’s in our DNA to take care people, in the dignity of all people.”

Stephen Shallcross, owner of 2 Dine 4 Hospitality Group, which includes De Nada Cantina, Sawyer & Co., SWOOP House, Lil’ Easy Cajun Food & Bar, and 2 Dine 4 Fine Catering

Expanding into a larger kitchen in their newly opened South 1st location, the already accommodating menu has expanded accordingly. Myriad meatless options showcase the inherent richness of whole foods, seasoned with the same care and attention given to prime cuts. The mushroom picadillo in particular, developed through multiple trials and many revisions, is a shining example of that commitment. Layers of spices blended so harmoniously that it’s impossible to tease them apart are infused into every molecule of the humble fungus, swaddled in soft, handmade blue corn tortillas, or crispy hard shells if you’d prefer a nostalgic American flourish.

Vegan Enchiladas

Vegetarian enchiladas aren’t victims of subtraction after being converted to veganism. Creamy green pipián sauce blankets the bundle lavishly, as if those pumpkin seeds are channeling the very spirit of sour cream. Even the refritos negros, otherwise unremarkable black beans, dazzle with depth that has an uncanny cheesy undertone. It’s the kind of thing that anyone could enjoy, without even realizing they’ve eaten a vegan meal.

Camote Taco

What began as trying to accommodate friends and family turned into a genuine passion for making plant-based foods. John Mackey, co-founder of Whole Foods Market, was an early supporter and client, who really started the wheels turning. His signature can be seen all over the catering menus, which are additionally low-sodium and almost entirely oil-free.

Frozen Margarita

Don’t worry, if you’re just here for the comfort food, no one is about to give you a lecture about healthy living here. That piece of the puzzle is incidental to simply starting with quality ingredients and not messing them up. There’s still plenty of spirit behind the bar when you want to let loose. Crowned the best margarita by The Austin Chronicle now three years running, frozen or on the rocks, large or slightly less large, these drinks do not mess around. The way that happy hour deals bring crowds in droves is self-explanatory.