7 foods I was convinced I'd miss forever after going plant-based that I now genuinely forget exist

When I made the decision to go vegan at 35, I spent an embarrassing amount of time mentally cataloging everything I'd never eat again.

I'd lie awake thinking about cheese plates and Sunday brunch staples, convinced I was signing up for a lifetime of deprivation.

My analytical brain, trained by years in finance, kept running the numbers on what I was giving up.

Five years later, I find myself laughing at that version of me. Not because the transition was effortless, but because the foods I was certain would haunt me have quietly faded from my consciousness.

Our taste buds and cravings are remarkably adaptable, and what once felt like sacrifice now feels like a distant chapter from someone else's story. Here are seven foods I was absolutely certain I'd miss forever.

1. Eggs for breakfast

I was a dedicated eggs-every-morning person. Scrambled, poached, over easy. The ritual of cracking eggs into a pan felt like the only legitimate way to start a day. I genuinely couldn't imagine what breakfast would look like without them.

Now? I can't remember the last time I thought about eggs. My mornings have evolved into something richer: savory tofu scrambles loaded with vegetables, overnight oats that practically make themselves, smoothie bowls that fuel my trail runs.

The shift happened so gradually that I didn't notice when eggs stopped occupying mental real estate. What does your morning ritual actually need to feel complete?

2. Cheese on everything

This was the big one. The food everyone warned me about. I'd read that casein in cheese triggers dopamine release, creating genuine cravings, and I believed I'd be white-knuckling my way through every pizza commercial for the rest of my life.

The first few months were admittedly rough. But somewhere around month four, something shifted. My palate started appreciating flavors I'd been drowning in cheese for years. Nutritional yeast became my secret weapon.

Cashew-based sauces revealed depths I hadn't expected. Now when I pass the cheese section at the grocery store, I feel nothing. Not willpower, not longing. Just neutrality.

3. Sushi with fish

Date nights with Marcus often meant sushi. I loved the ritual of it: the wooden chopsticks, the tiny dishes of soy sauce, the artful presentation. I mourned this one hard, convinced plant-based sushi would feel like a pale imitation.

What I discovered instead was a whole world of vegetable sushi I'd been ignoring. Sweet potato tempura rolls, avocado and cucumber combinations, pickled vegetable varieties with complex flavors.

The ritual remained intact. The experience actually expanded. When was the last time you explored a cuisine you thought you knew completely?

4. Creamy pasta sauces

Fettuccine alfredo was my comfort food, my bad-day remedy, my celebration meal. The thought of giving up that creamy, indulgent experience felt like losing a friend.

Then I discovered what cashews could do when blended with garlic and a splash of pasta water. I learned about silken tofu sauces and the magic of white beans pureed until smooth.

These alternatives don't taste identical to dairy-based sauces, but they satisfy the same craving for something rich and comforting. The emotional need gets met. The specific ingredient becomes irrelevant.

5. Milk chocolate

I had a serious milk chocolate habit. The creamy sweetness was my afternoon pick-me-up, my movie snack, my stress response. Dark chocolate felt too intense, too bitter, too serious.

Funny thing about taste buds: they recalibrate. After a few months without milk chocolate, dark chocolate started tasting different to me. Richer. More complex. Now the thought of milk chocolate actually seems too sweet, almost cloying. The flavonoids in dark chocolate have become my preferred indulgence, and I genuinely prefer it.

6. Yogurt parfaits

Greek yogurt with granola and berries was my virtuous treat, my protein-packed snack, my go-to when I wanted something that felt healthy but still satisfying. I assumed plant-based yogurts would be thin, sour disappointments.

The plant-based yogurt market has exploded since I made the switch. Coconut, oat, almond, cashew varieties now line grocery shelves with textures and flavors that rival anything I remember.

But honestly, I've also moved beyond yogurt parfaits entirely. Chia puddings, smoothie bowls, and fresh fruit with nut butter have filled that space. The category itself feels less essential than it once did.

7. Butter on toast

Simple pleasures are sometimes the hardest to release. Butter melting into warm bread was pure, uncomplicated joy. I was skeptical that anything could replicate that specific satisfaction.

Quality plant-based butters have genuinely surprised me. But more than that, I've discovered new simple pleasures: avocado mashed with salt and lemon, tahini drizzled with honey, olive oil with herbs. The toast remains. The topping has evolved. The joy persists.

Final thoughts

Looking back at my pre-vegan self, frantically cataloging future deprivations, I wish I could tell her something important: you're not losing foods, you're gaining freedom from foods you thought you needed. The cravings that feel permanent are often just habits wearing convincing costumes.

Our relationship with food is more flexible than we give it credit for. What we think we can't live without often becomes what we simply don't think about anymore.

If you're considering a plant-based transition and feeling overwhelmed by what you'll miss, take heart. Your future self might barely remember what the fuss was about.