The vegan beef bourguignon that finally proved to my French cooking snob friend that fancy doesn't require meat

My friend Marc studied at Le Cordon Bleu and has opinions about butter temperature that could fill a dissertation.

When I invited him over for dinner last January, he actually laughed when I mentioned making beef bourguignon without the beef. "Jordan, some things are sacred," he said, like I'd suggested we remake Casablanca with puppets.

Three hours later, he was scraping his bowl clean and asking for the recipe.

Here's how I made a vegan version that honors the original while proving that luxury and depth don't require animal products.

1. The secret is treating mushrooms like they're the star, not a substitute

Most vegan bourguignon recipes treat mushrooms like beef's understudy, desperately trying to mimic meat.

That's the wrong energy. Instead, I used a mix of king oyster mushrooms, cremini, and dried porcini because each brings something different to the party.

King oyster mushrooms have this meaty texture when you sear them hard in a cast iron pan.

Cremini add earthiness. Dried porcini, rehydrated in the cooking liquid, contribute that umami depth that makes you think something simmered for days.

The key move? I cut the king oysters into thick rounds and scored them in a crosshatch pattern before searing.

This creates more surface area for browning, which is where all that fancy flavor comes from. Marc actually paused mid-bite to examine the texture.

2. Red wine matters more than you think (and so does patience)

I used a full bottle of decent Burgundy, the same kind you'd use in the traditional version.

This isn't the time for two-buck chuck. The wine reduces down and concentrates, becoming the soul of the dish.

Here's where behavioral science kicks in: our brains associate certain flavor profiles with luxury and effort.

That deep, wine-dark sauce dotted with caramelized vegetables? It triggers the same pleasure centers as the original, even without beef.

I let everything simmer low and slow for about two hours. You want the liquid to reduce by half and turn glossy.

Marc kept wandering into the kitchen, drawn by the smell. "It actually smells right," he admitted, which from him was basically a Michelin star.

3. The supporting cast needs as much love as the lead

Traditional bourguignon has pearl onions and lardons. I glazed cipollini onions in a mix of vegan butter and maple syrup until they were burnished and sweet.

For the lardons, I used thick-cut shiitake bacon that I made by marinating shiitake strips in tamari, liquid smoke, and a touch of maple.

The vegetables aren't just decoration. They're textural contrast and flavor bombs. I also added carrots cut into thick coins and fresh thyme because some classics exist for good reasons.

Marc's exact words: "The onions have better caramelization than most bistros in LA." Coming from someone who once sent back a croissant for being "structurally compromised," this was high praise.

4. Serve it like you mean it

Presentation matters when you're trying to prove a point. I served the bourguignon over creamy mashed potatoes made with oat milk and good olive oil.

Garnished with fresh parsley and cracked black pepper. Poured more of that Burgundy into proper glasses.

The whole table looked like something from a French country cookbook.

Because here's the thing: vegan food doesn't need to apologize or hide. When you treat it with the same respect and technique as traditional cooking, it stands on its own.

Marc took a photo before eating, which he literally never does. Then he asked if I'd teach him the recipe.

Two months later, he made it for his parents when they visited from Paris. His mom requested seconds.

Final thoughts

The best part wasn't proving Marc wrong, though that was satisfying.

It was watching him realize that "fancy" is about technique, quality ingredients, and care. Not about whether something came from an animal.

French cooking is really about building layers of flavor and respecting your ingredients. Those principles work whether you're working with beef or mushrooms.

The bourguignon didn't succeed because it fooled anyone into thinking they were eating meat. It succeeded because it was genuinely delicious on its own terms.

Marc still has strong opinions about butter temperature. But now he also has strong opinions about properly searing mushrooms. Progress comes in small, delicious steps.