7 nostalgic comfort foods I never thought I’d enjoy again—until I made them plant-based

There was a time when I believed going plant-based meant saying goodbye to some of the foods that shaped my childhood.

Grilled cheese. Creamy mac. Sunday pancakes drowned in syrup. These weren’t just meals—they were rituals.

But something happened when I started experimenting in the kitchen with new ingredients, new tools, and a new mindset. I didn’t just rediscover these comfort foods. I reinvented them.

Here are seven nostalgic dishes I never thought I’d enjoy again—until I made them plant-based.

1. Mac and cheese

I grew up on the boxed kind. Bright orange. Velvety. A little artificial but somehow perfect. So when I ditched dairy, this one felt like a serious loss.

But then I discovered cashews. And nutritional yeast. And the magic of blending soaked nuts with garlic, lemon, and a splash of plant milk.

Now? I make a version that checks every box. Creamy. Cheesy. Slightly tangy. And yes—it actually makes me feel good after eating it.

As the Brigham Young University study pointed out, employees with unhealthy diets were 66 percent more likely to report productivity loss. That used to be me after a heavy lunch. This version, though, fuels me for the rest of the day.

2. Grilled cheese

This one was personal.

As a kid, grilled cheese was my after-school staple. Two slices of white bread, a square of processed cheese, and a pan with way too much butter.

Now? I make mine with sourdough, a slice of smoked plant-based gouda, and a layer of caramelized onions. Sometimes I press it like a panini. Other times I go full diner-style.

Is it the same? No. It’s better. It evolved with me.

3. Spaghetti and meatballs

Meatballs were the first thing I thought I’d have to mourn.

That rich, Sunday-simmered sauce. That smell in the house for hours.

But here’s what surprised me: lentils, walnuts, and mushrooms do the job brilliantly. Add some fennel, garlic, and tamari, and you get texture, depth, and flavor that hit the same notes.

I’ve made this for meat-eaters. No one has ever asked where the meat is.

4. Pancakes

Weekend pancakes were a tradition in my house growing up.

Buttermilk. Butter. More butter.

These days, I use oat milk and apple cider vinegar for that same tang. A mashed banana for sweetness. Flax instead of eggs. And just like that, I’m back at the table as a kid—only now with better ingredients and zero crash afterward.

I’ve mentioned this before, but food has memory. And sometimes it takes just one bite to bring it all flooding back.

5. Cheeseburgers

There was a stretch of time where I gave up trying. Every frozen veggie patty I tried tasted like sadness.

Then came black beans. Brown rice. Smoked paprika. A little soy sauce. Pressed and baked into a burger that holds up on a grill.

Stacked high with lettuce, pickles, and ketchup, it delivers everything you want on that first bite.

And honestly? Knowing it didn’t come at the expense of my energy or health makes it even more satisfying.

6. Ice cream

The first time I had coconut milk ice cream, I cried. A little dramatic? Maybe. But food is emotional.

As Lisa Firestone, Ph.D., has said, "Sadness is a live emotion that can serve to remind us of what matters to us, what gives our life meaning".

For me, that first bite brought back years of summer memories. The beach. Birthday parties. Watching cartoons with a bowl of rocky road.

These days, I make my own with frozen bananas, cocoa powder, and peanut butter. Or I buy small-batch oat milk versions that are dangerously good.

7. Tuna salad

Weird one, I know. But tuna sandwiches were part of my school lunch rotation.

When I found out you could mash chickpeas with vegan mayo, lemon, celery, and nori flakes, I felt like I’d unlocked a secret.

It’s not just similar. It’s better. Bright, savory, and ocean-y without the fish. Even the texture is spot on.

This dish reminded me that nostalgia isn’t about recreating the exact thing. It’s about capturing the feeling.

As Dr. Colin Murray Parkes once put it, "Grief, which is profound sadness after loss, is a reflection of love – we only mourn because we care".

That’s how I felt about these foods. I didn’t want them back because they were perfect. I wanted them back because they meant something.

The bottom line

You don’t need to give up the foods you love to eat in a way that supports your values.

You just need curiosity. Willingness to experiment. And a little patience.

Plant-based eating isn’t about sacrifice. It’s about rediscovery.

And sometimes, what you find on the other side is even better than what you left behind.