Back in 1970, when the word “vegan” was scarcely known—even among vegetarians—I made the choice to adopt a vegan lifestyle. Since then, I’ve witnessed an incredible transformation. Today, veganism has entered the mainstream, with products proudly sporting the label “vegan” in supermarkets and restaurants across the country. This visibility is thrilling and long overdue. Yet, amid this progress, I find myself disheartened. Too often, the foods celebrated as “vegan” are little more than junk food in disguise.
Consider cupcakes. Two years ago, a bakery opened near my home in Connecticut that sells exclusively vegan cupcakes. For the casual omnivore, this might seem like a two-step forward: a win for animal welfare and the planet. But for vegans committed to nutrition and health, these cupcakes represent a step sideways—or even backwards. Instead of nourishing, whole foods, this bakery offers sugary treats made with white flour and refined sugar, stripped of the nutrients that true veganism can embrace.
I avoid white flour and sugar in my own diet, preferring whole, natural foods. If others choose cupcakes, that’s their decision. Yet the rise of “vegan junk food” clouds the message of veganism’s potential to be vibrant and healthful. For the vegan baker, who might otherwise craft wholesome breads or hearty whole grain dishes, the choice to focus on cupcakes feels like a missed opportunity to promote wellness.
Why does this matter? Because vegans are, by necessity and by example, ambassadors of a movement. What we eat and how we present ourselves can either inspire or undermine the cause. Some vegans wear their beliefs boldly with slogans and activism. But the most powerful statement may be the radiance of health itself—achieved through a diet rich in whole, unprocessed foods, not through processed vegan “junk” that echoes the worst of mainstream fare.
Dining out offers a fascinating window into this shift. I enjoy sitting alone with a plate of sprouts, but I also cherish meals with friends at vegetarian or vegan restaurants. These eateries once celebrated whole, natural foods—tempeh, brown rice, hearty grains, fresh vegetables. But over the last decade, I’ve noticed a troubling trend: as competition grows, many veg restaurants bend to popular demand, gradually replacing wholesome dishes with more processed, convenient options.
Tempeh and whole grain breads have disappeared from menus. Brown rice turns to white. Salads persist, but deep-fried and pan-fried dishes—labeled as “crispy” or “seared”—now dominate. Alcohol selections have ballooned, while fresh vegetable juices vanish. The newest, largest vegan restaurant in my area boasts multiple dining rooms and bars, yet fresh juices are nowhere to be found.
Mock meats are a particularly glaring example. Made from devitalized wheat gluten or heavily processed soy proteins, these products mimic meat’s texture and flavor but bear little resemblance to whole foods. As a vegan, I find this ironic: we avoid meat for ethical and health reasons, yet some embrace its imitation. Mock meats are not just meat substitutes—they are substitutes for real food.
Nutritionally, real meat might be more wholesome than these industrially produced alternatives, but that’s not my choice. I prefer eating whole soybeans rather than meat-flavored soy protein. By perpetuating the myth that meat must be the centerpiece of a meal, mock meats trivialize veganism’s potential. While they might help meat-eaters transition, they also confuse the message for those already committed to plant-based eating.
Newfangled fake meats have recently gained traction in fast food chains. For instance, the Impossible Whopper costs more and adds calories compared to its beef counterpart, yet it’s hailed as revolutionary. Some food journalists tout these products as the future of sustainable eating. But research tells a more complicated story. A recent UCLA study found that while introducing fake meats slightly reduced meat consumption among students, it also coincided with decreased vegetable intake. This suggests a trade-off where one healthy choice replaces another, but not always for the better.
For vegans, this is concerning. While fake meats might be a step forward for omnivores, they can be two steps back nutritionally and philosophically for those who have chosen veganism as a path to health and compassion.
Ultimately, the challenge for vegans—and the larger plant-based movement—is to maintain the focus on whole, nourishing foods. We must celebrate vibrant vegetables, whole grains, legumes, nuts, and seeds as the foundation of our diets. Veganism should not settle for processed, sugary, or industrial imitations masquerading as healthy options.
As a food purist and longtime advocate, I welcome the growing acceptance of veganism with open arms—but I also urge a thoughtful approach. Let’s embrace food that heals, energizes, and truly respects the earth and its creatures. Only then will veganism realize its full potential as a movement for health, sustainability, and compassion.
