With a couple of chores completed on a cold Berlin January morning, and compacted snow crunching underfoot, I switched on HappyCow and headed for the nearest eatery. The Sanctuary sounded ideal: a vegan Italian patisserie, just nearby in Mitte, offering a balanced mix of sweet and savoury delights.
Walking inside I was momentarily speechless at the array of treats in front of me. Vegan options in Berlin are easy to find, but this felt overwhelmingly special. I chose a takeaway box of four pastries, picking a mix of sweet and savoury.
Aubergine parmigiana: a mini pizza
The savoury options – a cheese and ham croissant and an aubergine parmigiana pizzetta – were exceptional. The pastry was perfectly crisp, while the fillings were soft, rich and flavourful. I particularly loved the aubergine, with its deep, tomato-filled crust topped with a sprinkling of baked vegan mozzarella.
Time for dessert: crunchy, creamy and flavour-rich
The sweet offerings were equally indulgent. A plant-based cannolo siciliano was a rare treat: a crisp, bubbly tube filled with soft, whipped custard. The pistachio cream doughnut was a delight too – split down the middle, filled with layers of light and dark crème pâtissière and topped with crushed pistachios.
The icing on the cake: a hot latte on a freezing day
Drawn in by the smells and warmth more than I expected, I lingered over a frothy oat latte in the small but perfectly Berlin-cool café section. Sufficiently revived, I then wrapped up and stomped back out into the winter frost.
The French Quarter at noon: colour, crowds, traffic — and a skeletal giant keeping watch
Vibrant, lively and at times overwhelming, New Orleans has a way of ending up on nearly everyone’s bucket list, as you’ll quickly learn when you mention you’re heading there.
We stayed in the French Quarter as almost every guide seemed to recommend, but on its quieter outskirts — where the French Quarter meets Tremé. Attacked by tremendous jet lag from day one this turned out to be a good move.
Our hotel — the Best Western Plus — sat directly opposite Louis Armstrong Park, where, by chance, a jazz festival was taking place that weekend. Nothing flashy or fancy, the Tremé Creole Gumbo Festival felt like something put on by locals for locals. Food kiosks, a few small artisan clothing, artwork, and jewellery stalls, and a warm family atmosphere made it the perfect way to ease ourselves into the holiday. We picked the bands we wanted to see and built the first few days of our itinerary around them.
In the all-consuming, somewhat chaotic atmosphere that increasingly pervades the French Quarter as the day goes on, Tremé feels like a place where real life continues. It has a much mellower, more genuine feel, and it was there, during a gap between bands, that we discovered I-tal Garden.
A fully vegan family-owned restaurant blending New Orleans soul food with Rasta/Caribbean “ital” principles, I-tal Garden is often praised as one of the most thoughtful vegan spots in the city. It’s run by Chef Rayoseph (“Chef Ra”) and his family; born and raised in New Orleans, his menu highlights the spiritual and cultural roots of ital cooking.
I-tal Garden: clean, modern style served with soul
From a decidedly unassuming exterior, you step into a spacious, modern, warehouse-style dining room. Sparsely but tastefully decorated to reflect its African-Caribbean heritage, the space opens onto a generous ground floor with a mezzanine floating above. A few groups were scattered around when we arrived at Sunday lunchtime, and though a little unsure at first, we quickly realised it was counter service — but without a hint of the fast-food vibe.
The staff were delightful: warm, relaxed, and genuinely welcoming.
And the food… well, it wasn’t just food. As they told us when it arrived, it was nourishment. The menu blends Afro-Caribbean and New Orleans traditions beautifully, featuring signature dishes like Ra Pasta (jackfruit in a coconut-milk sauce), Cajun pasta, jackfruit ribs, fried oyster mushrooms, vegan mac and cheese plates, BBQ cauliflower wings, and the lion’s mane burger. Organic ingredients are used wherever possible, with gluten-free options and a focus on whole-foods cooking. It was exactly what the doctor ordered.
Rancho supreme: once you start, you don’t want to stop
We started with the nachos. A feast in itself — and had we added a side or two, it absolutely could’ve been enough — but we were ravenous and they were far too good not to demolish. Organic corn chips piled with cashew cheese, refried-style black beans, quinoa, tomatoes, romaine, walnut ground, and cashew cream: it tasted like proper home-cooked soul food, and it landed in the body like comfort. It was exactly what we’d been craving after days of travel and jet lag.
Burger and chips: filled a gap
For mains we tried the Rancho burger and the oyster mushroom wrap, both served with seasoned fries and salad. These were generous portions of deeply satisfying, flavour-packed food. The service was quick but unhurried — the kind of pace that lets you settle in rather than rush. And the food was simply delicious. As we sat there, the place began to fill up with friends, families, and solo diners, and there was a charming low-key buzz about the place.
Lemon pepper oyster bite wrap: bright and citrusy 
We walked out full, but not weighed down in the way fast food can leave you. I-tal Garden is food for the body and soul, and a shining reminder that veganism can be a culture and a worldview, not just a menu substitution — rooted, expressive, and unmistakably New Orleans. We left feeling restored, and ready to dive deeper into the city.
Inside I-tal Garden: spacious, welcoming, and quietly nourishing
Inside 2 Phat Vegans: bright colours, posters and voodoo beads
Sitting on Decatur Street in the French Quarter, 2 Phat Vegans is one of the most visible fully plant-based spots in New Orleans. The restaurant specialises in veganised versions of the city’s classics — hot sausage po’boys, gumbo, fried mushroom sandwiches, vegan beignets, mac and cheese, and the kind of big-flavour comfort food that defines New Orleans eating.
It’s a Black-owned, flavour-first business run by Corey Mathis, who says he became vegan after falling in love with the foods he grew up on. His personal culinary mission — “I’m not staying vegan unless I can still eat hot sausage” — became the backbone of the restaurant. After a rebrand in 2022, the business moved from the West Bank into the French Quarter, where it now attracts a steady flow of tourists, locals and, like us, vegans on a Louisiana pilgrimage.
The kitchen is fully vegan, but not in the acai-bowl-and-green-juice sense. This is indulgent, fried, saucy, sticky-fingered plant-based cooking. It’s unapologetically comfort food with nothing about it claiming to be light, clean or wholesome. The ethos is simple: if New Orleans has a classic, 2 Phat Vegans will make a plant-based version of it, and they’ll make it kingsize.
Online, the reviews are glowing — huge portions, nostalgic New Orleans flavours, that rare joy of being able to order anything off the menu. So 2 Phat Vegans was our first meal in New Orleans. We had flown in exhausted, hungry and mildly delirious — 7.30 pm local time, but about 1.30 am to our bodies. We were in no state for salad. We wanted carbs, grease and something recognisably substantial, so we headed for UberEats.
I ordered a mushroom po’boy, expecting a crusty French loaf stuffed with crisply breadcrumbed mushrooms. What arrived was not quite that, but welcome nonetheless. More of a limp bun than a baguette, and the mushrooms were far from the crunchy, golden fantasy I’d imagined. My companion’s beanburger earned a similar shrug. But we were starving, and grateful for a meal we didn’t have to interrogate for hidden dairy or chicken stock. The fries, at least, were fine. Sometimes hunger covers a multitude of culinary sins.
Go vegan: a clear message decorates the walls.
We returned the next day, this time to the venue itself, still not sure what to expect but determined to give the actual café a proper go. It’s just round the corner from the French market and the space is one many seasoned vegans will recognise immediately: that familiar combination of moral conviction and DIY charm. Posters, music photos, bright colours. A counter in the corner. A screen blocking the kitchen. A big menu board. No frills, but plenty of soul.
I knew I wanted the deep-fried aubergine — and fries again, because travelling is exhausting. My companion, nobler and more adventurous, opted for a small gumbo, hoping for a vegan take on a local classic.
This was our first experience of a New Orleans café, and the service felt improvised. Not rude, not unfriendly, just as if the guy taking orders had wandered in by accident and decided to give guest-starring in a restaurant a try. The bigger issue was the wait; luckily we were in no rush, but an hour felt a long time to wait for food in a café where we were the only customers eating.
Aubergine fries: dusted in seasoning and served with sauce.
We also made the mistake of ordering root beer — a drink neither of us had ever properly tried before. We expected something like cola with a quirky American twist; instead, it tasted like someone had carbonated a dentist’s waiting room. It was so startlingly medicinal that we ended up deep-diving into its origins while we waited for the food, discovering that the flavour traditionally comes from sassafras root. This at least explained why it tasted like a herbal remedy from the nineteenth century. We finished the bottles out of politeness, but it was an experience neither of us needs to repeat.
Root Beer: one sip is enough
When the plates finally appeared, they looked like they’d had a hard day. The gumbo, especially, was a challenge — a dense, heavy sauce with chunks of vegan sausage and a colour that did the dish no favours. My aubergine was better, but still more earnest than impressive.
Vegan gumbo with a plastic spoon: tastes how it looks
And yet it still felt like part of the story. The inconsistencies, the long wait, the slightly chaotic service all lined up perfectly with what many reviewers love and dislike in equal measure. 2 Phat Vegans clearly has heart, culture and intention. It also has unpredictable kitchen execution and a possible habit of delivering dishes that fall a step short.
But in a city where vegan food is still finding its identity, 2 Phat Vegans is important. It’s ambitious. Even when it’s messy, it’s doing the work of putting vegan versions of New Orleans staples into the hands of people who miss them, crave them or are discovering them for the first time.
It’s the kind of place where you are rooting for them. You truly want them to continue spreading the plant-based love: the world needs more vegan places, and New Orleans — where by default menus include frog legs, crawfish and alligator cooked in every way possible — most definitely does.
Flashback to 2019: Zack Polanski is a BardoBurner Everyday Vegan
Before stepping into national leadership, London Assembly member Zack Polanski shared his commitment to sustainability in his daily life with BardoBurner. Following his landslide election as Green Party leader, we proudly revisit this 2019 interview, exploring how his vegan lifestyle reflects his enduring dedication to ethical politics and environmental principles.
How long have you been vegan? I’ve been vegan for four years and was vegetarian for ten years before that.
What led to the change from vegetarian to vegan? I was making a documentary for a production company – which they never completed – but whilst I was preparing questions for vegan activists, I realised I already instinctively knew the answers.
Do you see yourself ever going back to being an omnivore? No.
Are you a ‘healthy’ vegan? Often people assume we’re all fitness-obsessed, when the reality is that we come in many flavours and for many people life is an eternal hunt for vegan cake. What makes up your diet? Not at all. Fast-paced London lifestyle fuelled by Huel, vegan fast food and the occasional cooked vegetable.
Do you consciously think about where you get your protein, etc, from? I used to, but as you get in a groove, I think your body lets you know when it’s time for the healthy option.
For many vegans, the initial realisation of facts that make us turn to a different lifestyle is pretty life-changing and alienating. We view things differently, from the supermarket shopping experience in a meat-eating world to the people around us. How was that change in mindset… the reality of being an outsider in many situations… for you? That’s absolutely right. Being vegan meant I spent much more time around environmentalists and people who were fighting to save the planet. I went vegan for the animals – and then realised there are so many more other crucial reasons to do it too.
Do you mix with many other vegans – does your lifestyle mean that you come into contact with people of a similar outlook regularly? A fair few. I’d say a large part of my friendship group is vegan. Including my partner, Richie!
Do you seek out vegan groups and forums online? I did initially to get grounded in the community and for people to digitally hold my hand. Now I’m more than happy to be involved but schedules a little too busy to actively seek it out.
Do you live in a meat/dairy eating household? And if so, how is that? I do. I live in a shared building with 18 people; I reckon the veggie/vegan – omnivore split is about 50/50. It’s fine though. We have some really good discussions and slowly people are coming around!
Where do you like to eat out? I love Black Cat Cafe, Yorica, Temple of Seitan and my favourite of all is actually a Chinese vegan restaurant in Archway (Loving Hut).
Do you feel you have more in common with vegans than the majority of other people who don’t believe plant-based is the way forward? I think there’s a mutual understanding that you potentially both have a love of animals and a desire to save the planet. That’s a good grounding for any friendship I think.
Do you, as most of us have to, eat out with non-vegans often and how do you feel about their eating choices? A lot. I feel their choices are their choices. I don’t believe in preaching or being angry at people. We all have to come to these decisions in our own time and I’m a great believer in being a demonstrator of your values rather than just talking about them.
Are you involved in any form of activism? Lots. Political obviously. Also regularly go to Critical Mass, which is all about cycling. I’m involved with XR, and was arrested this year during the Spring Rebellion. I’m currently awaiting my court date.
Passionate about veganism: Zack Polanski
Even more crucially though, I’m a spokesperson for Make Votes Matter (the campaign for Proportional Representation). That might sound like a long stretch from veganism, but actually one of the biggest flaws in society right now is that our rules are made by the current unfair voting system. The Green Party would look to change that to have much healthier and well-balanced debates about everything in our democracy. Undoubtedly within that, animal rights and the environment would get a much better hearing.
How do you feel about the vegan jokes… you know, that vegans can’t go five minutes without mentioning the fact or they explode? Next…
Do you believe that the meat and dairy industries have a future? If they do, ultimately our planet doesn’t. We need to move away to plant based options and make it all considerably easier, cheaper and more accessible – I’m open to whether that includes meat and dairy replacements.
How do you think we best ‘convert’ omnivores to a plant-based lifestyle? And do you actively try to do this? I wouldn’t necessarily say convert. Educate, inform and persuade. And I do it by not actively doing it – by living a busy, happy, healthy lifestyle and demonstrating that being vegan is the future.
How do you feel about the horror-show videos of the reality of meat? Do you share them? Do you feel they have a positive place in changing people’s understanding of the meat and dairy industry? I don’t like them. I think they’ve got their place but I can’t face watching them and in fact I’ve never seen them. I think positive conversation is much more likely to create sustainable change rather than shock factors.
Are you positive about the future of veganism? Absolutely. The one slight caveat is that I’m cautious about the vegan celebrities that are cropping up on YouTube… (usually white and male). We massively need to avoid having cult figures in the community, and also to acknowledge the work of a lot of women for the past few decades that wasn’t about getting popularity hits but about maintaining a principled and ethical argument for the environment – and for our animals.
What does being vegan mean to you? Ultimately it can only mean love!
Homerton’s finest: a plant-based sanctuary with character
Tucked away on a corner of Homerton High Street, The Spread Eagle introduced a fully vegan menu eight years, becoming London’s first plant-based pub. There’s no pretension or trend-chasing minimalism here — this is a proper British pub. It feels warm and lived-in. Sustainability runs through everything, from the seasonal menu to the fixtures, yet the atmosphere stays unmistakably traditional, with families, groups of friends, and even canine companions making themselves at home.
The menu is rooted in British pub classics but draws subtle influences from around the world, reflecting the diverse culture of East London. I went with two friends: one vegan, one decidedly not. As usual, I’d already extensively studied the menu in advance and knew exactly what I wanted.
Courgette flower: crisp batter in a fragrant sauce
I opted for the battered courgette flower, a dish I’d only eaten once before. That first time, at the original Ottolenghi restaurant on Upper Street twelve years ago, the vegetarian version was delicate and memorable. The Spread Eagle’s fully vegan take was every bit as good. Several slices of quartered courgette came fried in a pale crisp batter, but the true highlight was the flower itself, filled with a silky non-dairy ricotta that was rich and creamy. It felt indulgent yet refined, quietly asserting how unnecessary dairy can be.
Schnitzel with a twist: traditional turned vegan
For my main, there was no hesitation. My Austrian heritage demanded the aubergine schnitzel with potato salad, a dish tied so deeply to my own memories that it felt like a personal test for the kitchen. Growing up, aubergine schnitzel was my annual Christmas dinner after choosing vegetarianism at 14. It’s a schlepp to make, so it was always something special — prepared by my mum with love and Teutonic precision. And here, it was perfect; possibly even better than I remembered. A hefty eggplant wedge, soft and tender at the centre, was encased in golden, chunky breadcrumbs with a satisfying crunch. The potato salad was classic Austrian style: tangy, balanced, and unapologetically simple, complementing the schnitzel without overpowering it. It tasted like home, like tradition.
Tomato tart: fresh and seasonal
My vegan friend started with the tomato tart, a crisp base topped with soft and flavoursome juicy tomatoes, which he declared a complete success. He had originally considered the schnitzel, but after a quick chat with the pub manager, opted for the lentil pie and mash with liquor — and wasn’t disappointed. The East End classic translated beautifully into a fully plant-based dish, hearty and deeply satisfying.
Heavy on the crunch: fresh seasonal ingredients
Our omnivore friend began with the Greek salad, which she described as a pleasant and authentic recreation, but a little too heavy on the cucumber. She followed it with the signature mushroom burger — a creation that looked every bit the pub classic albeit entirely plant-based.
We shared two bottles of the house white, served in refillable bottles — a thoughtful sustainable touch. The wine itself was crisp and easy to drink, the kind that quietly enhances a meal without over-demanding attention.
I was the only one who ordered dessert and couldn’t resist the Eton mess. A simple mix of cream and strawberries — heavy on the strawberries — with meringue scattered on top. It was the perfect light finish: sweet but not cloying, fresh and satisfying.
Messy tastes so good: the classic British dessert
Beyond the food, the whole place has just the right feel. The décor is bright, modern and inviting, the staff warm and genuinely knowledgeable about the menu. Their recommendations were spot on, and you get the sense they really care about what they’re serving.
An eclectic hideaway: street art and hanging gardens
The Spread Eagle proves that you don’t have to abandon the charm of a classic British pub to embrace a plant-based future. It’s where heritage meets innovation — and everyone, vegan or not, is welcome to pull up a chair.
Walthamstow still has a lot going for it. Money has been poured into the area — new flats, curated green spaces, cafés with concrete countertops — all trying to turn it into somewhere people want to live, linger, and spend their weekends. But in all of this, veganism has mostly been an afterthought.
There are vegan options scattered here and there, but since the much-loved SpiceBox on Hoe Street closed, there’s felt like a real gap — something missing. Yes, there’s Chickenish in the Crate building on St James Street, but for me, the real star is neither overtly nor accidentally vegan.
Always a queue: eat in or takeaway
Tucked away on Old Brewery Way is Beaten by a Whisker https://www.beatenbyawhisker.com/contact— a small, independent bakery that calls itself “incidentally vegan”. And that’s exactly how it feels: everything is plant-based, but it’s never the headline. It’s not a sales pitch, just a quiet confidence that great food speaks for itself.
Founded by baker Laura Almond, who started out selling cakes from an honesty box in her front garden, the café has become a real local gem. She grew from supplying cakes to neighbourhood cafés to opening her own space, just a short walk from St James Street station. The result is a cosy, rustic little place with seriously good coffee (from London roasters Curious Roo) and a loyal following.
Ever popular: cinnamon rolls and other buns
The food? Beautifully seasonal and always fresh. Arrive early and you might catch a warm tahini and chocolate bun or one of their famed oversized cinnamon rolls. Later in the day, you might find sourdough focaccia with roasted squash and miso, or one of the mushroom sausage rolls that prove that taste is not compromised when you remove animal products.
Sausage rolls: no compromise on taste
Everything is baked in small batches, so the selection depends on when you arrive — but I’ve never been disappointed. Whether I’ve gone alone or with a friend, it always feels like a treat. The queue often spills out the door, but unlike most places, it never puts me off. It’s a friendly queue, full of locals catching up and trading tips on what’s just come out of the oven.
Freshly baked: always a good selection
If you’re looking for somewhere stylishly ethical without the preachiness, Beaten by a Whisker is it. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t just cater to vegans — it quietly opens minds with every bite.
From up above: watch the food being made in the bakery below
On the left hand side at the bottom of the staircase leading to the basement of Camden’s vegan pizza place Purezza, is a plush scarlet velvet curtain just begging to be peeked behind. Edge gently through, and you slip into a French style cafe with three bench booths and four small wooden tables, where the music has district Parisian vibes and the waitresses are both amiable and chic.
Purveyors of fine cheeses: all plant-based
We arrived early on a Friday evening, and had our choice of seats; we’d been allocated a table but by swapping around the beautifully handwritten reserved sign, we slid into a private booth near the curtain and settled in for several hours of hardcore cheese munching. All vegan, naturally, for it’s in making and selling fine artisan plant-based cheeses that La Fauxmangerie has earned its superb reputation.
Once a small shop near Brick Lane, their cheeses can now be found in any Waitrose branch, and they hold cheese and wine nights in Camden every Thursday, Friday and Saturday. These events get booked up early, and going there you can see why. The ambience alone is worth soaking up.
The owners have sourced an incredible list of small-batch wines that marry beautifully with a wide selection of their products, which range from traditionally fermented cheeses often with a nut base, to exquisite mould-ripened varieties. On offer are single portion samples of various cheeses and wine pairings, the ‘Showstopper’, which is a vegan Camembert, or – our choice – the garlic-laced vegan fondue complete with a freshly baked sourdough, seitan slices, and a selection of freshly grilled vegetables.
Retro chic: a trip down memory lane
The fondue is served in a 1970s original brown set with large flowers. This stands atop an old-school oil burner which keeps everything warm, stops the liquid from turning solid, and takes me right back to the first time I was introduced to the dish as a small child in Hamburg. It feels as exotic now as it did then. By this point the place was filling up, and there was a real sense of excitement at the food on offer. There’s something about sharing plates, and particularly using those long slender forks to dip into the fondue, that encourages a sense of intimacy among dining companions. Bits of bread or grilled artichoke slip from the forks into the viscous cheesy deliciousness, encouraging a sense of playfulness as you fish around trying to recover your lost food. The fondue itself was almost perfect… rich and flavoursome, although by the end of it, the saltiness of this melted cheese and wine dish meant we’d drunk two litres of water.
Fondue forks: from the pan to your mouth
By the end of the fondue, pretty much everything was empty, except our stomachs. That said, with this particular companion there is always room for dessert. She had two scoops of gelato while I went for the American style cheesecake. I’ve had this before in the upstairs section, and it lived up to my memory. I tend to avoid this expression, but honestly it tastes just like the creamy dairy-based option on which it is moulded: baked on a pastry base and garnished with fruit puree.
Coffee and cheesecake: fuel for the journey home
I was driving, and she was cycling, so we stuck to a can of cider each, but the wine choices looked amazing. Next time.
What goes up: Gravity Theory cider was the drink of choice
Tucked away at the back of a fancy boutique on Brook Street, right next to Claridge’s hotel, 123V Browns is not a restaurant you could stumble across. I walked back-and-forth several times past this grand grade II listed building before plucking up the courage to knock – it’s the kind of intimidating clothes shop where the doors are personally unlocked for you to walk in – and ask if I could possibly be in the right place. ‘Ah, you’re here for the restaurant? ‘
You have to know it’s there to find it.
Behind the clothing and the sparse shoe displays: 123V Browns is a quirky cosy space
There are other meals on option, but the star of the show at this restaurant is the bottomless sushi. Although empty when we arrived at 2pm, the place quickly filled up. I was sitting close enough to the entrance to hear pretty much everyone ask the same question as they were greeted by the waitress: “Is the bottomless sushi deal on?”
That’s why I was there, with my two favourite companions, on a very cold and wet winter afternoon. In the milder months, there is a lovely garden in which you can sit, but this was a day when it felt good to be inside and snug.
The system itself was easily negotiated. If we wanted, and we did, we could start with one of everything, and then take it from there.
Bottomless sushi: as much crispy rice, Nigiri, California, Signature, and tacos as you can eat
The problem, and let me just say it straight out, was the time constraint: put simply, would we be able to eat enough in a two hour period, with service as slow as this initially appeared to be? Much of our mumbled conversation between courses revolved around this.
Crispy rice sushi: a crunchy little mouthful
First came the crispy rice sushi. I’ve never had this before, and they were among my favourites. Small ovals of crisply fried rice topped with, for example, tofu crab, miso aubergine, and black mushroom. The green dynamite, topped with a jalapeño was the biggest hit with us.
Nigiri: including the incredibly popular green velvet
And then we waited. And waited. And mumbled under our breaths about when our two hours might have been timed from, and whether they were growing the rice back in the kitchen before serving it up. The second dish took some time, it would be fair to say, and came into stages, but every single piece brought with it its own punch. The textures and flavours were amazing; from fresh and fragrant to umami rich, the food was excellent and frequently surprising. Sushi has never been at the top of my list when it comes to food, but this was an entirely taste-changing experience.
Vivid colours: pressed tapioca used to make ‘salmon’ and ‘tuna’Nigiri: including a very ‘meaty’ 3-D plant flank and kelp cavier
And then the courses just kept coming. Each morsel saw us eagerly discussing what we might order when the entire menu had been tried.
The sushi tacos: ingenious little snacklets wrapped in seaweed
We finished a first dose of everything with half an hour to spare, and then, inevitably, over ordered. I’ll tell you now what our favourites were. We re-ordered the green dynamite, the green velvet, the Dragon roll, and the sushi tacos. Equally inevitably, we were left with about 10 pieces of sushi on the plate. It seemed logical to us that a place with the environmental ethics of any Alexis Gauthier restaurant would let us sneak a couple of bits of sushi out, rather than chuck them in the bin. So after a bit more mumbling, we sheepishly asked if we could have a little box to take away.
Absolutely not.
Out of sheer greed (and a touch of spite), we ate as much of what remained as we could fit in our already bloated stomachs, and pretty much waddled out. After we got over the initial indignation, it seemed pretty logical that bottomless sushi is a thing that you eat in rather than takeout. But hey, it was worth a try.
It’s a rainy day in Bournemouth in January. I’m not a fan of umbrellas, and the hood on my jacket serves more against wind than as a protection from water. As is frequently the case, I’ve got my iPhone clutched in my hand, and I’m following the HappyCow app to an interesting sounding vegan deli style restaurant with no menu to speak of. It’s 10:46am, I haven’t had breakfast yet, and this place is slightly off my beaten track, necessitating a bus journey, or the kind of walk I’m not prepared to do in the rain. I don’t have much of a clue what to expect, but I really need it to be good.
An abundance of plants: not a human in sight
When I walk into Dane and Port it’s cosy and dry, which is the first plus box ticked. It’s also empty of both staff and customers, and I am met by a low wall of Middle Eastern music with the mild aroma of exotic spices to match. I can’t quite place either precisely, but it instantly makes me feel at home. There are plants everywhere. Standing. Hanging. And the decor is wooden, woven, and rustic. With no humans in sight, I am unsure at first as to whether if it’s even open and I drift over to the back of the restaurant, hoping to find someone. Yes, there is a menu of sorts up on the wall, but revealing no specifics; there are simply vague references to meals like a brunch bowl or a sandwich plate.
I call out and a waitress appears from behind a slight curtain at the back. She pops downstairs to fetch the owner who she assures me will be able to explain the system. This she does, and it basically amounts to there is a brunch bowl, and you say which of the feasible components appeal to you.
A heavy teapot: from a selection of available teas
I choose an English breakfast tea to drink, which arrives in a heavy metal pot with enough contents for me to fill my beaker three times. My brunch plate consists of a dense chickpea flour tortilla, flavoured with turmeric, dill, and spinach, the beetroot humous, and a pickled red cabbage and broccoli salad. All of these smell and taste delicious, and, like everything served here, the foods are made from scratch on a daily basis.
The brunch bowl: a plate of freshly prepared wholefood
Owner, Isabel, comes over to check that I am okay and that the food is to my taste. It most definitely is. She is Portuguese, and her co-owner husband is from Denmark, which, she tells me, explains the shop’s name. She adds that they opened four years ago, just after the first lockdown, originally planning to run a vegan deli, and slowly expanding into a restaurant. Their focus is on keeping food as unprocessed, ethically produced, flavoursome, and as organic as possible, but without any preaching. All of this appeals to me massively.
With many businesses in the café and restaurant trade closing down in the current economic climate, these are tough times; Dane and Port, which has never really advertised itself at all, has begun exploring ways to future proof itself as a business, Isabel explains. This might mean going back to its roots as a deli, and becoming more takeaway orientated, but whatever the case its ethics will remain the same.
And for those who like more than a doggy bag to take home, a wander downstairs reveals a range of organic veg on offer to buy.
Organic veg: don’t leaf without a trip down to the basement
For now, if you can do without the thrill of choosing your meal online before you get to a place, it’s well worth the trip. Fully licensed, and serving organic cocktails and wines, they also serve cold pressed juices and artisan coffee, as well as desserts.
Vegan cocktails: Unity Diner offers both alcoholic and clean tipples
Update: having negotiated a deal with the landlords, Unity Diner has now reopened. 
News of a vegan restaurant taking the difficult decision to close its doors for the final time is always a body blow, with the most recently affected being Stem and Glory in Cambridge. But Unity Diner… truly, who saw that coming?
Unity Diner began in September 2018, and was formed by a group of activists, including vegan educator Earthling Ed, on a mission to make a positive impact on both the animals and on planet Earth. From day one, Unity Diner has been run as a not-for-profit restaurant, with all money going to Surge Sanctuary.
Help keep Surge sanctuary open: a haven for rescued farm animals
In January 2025 however, they emailed everyone on their mailing list to say: “Sadly, we’ve not been spared from the economic situation affecting the hospitality sector here in the UK, and with soaring costs since Covid and our landlords now wanting a rent increase this year, the time has come for us to call it a day.
“Restaurant closures are running at their highest level in more than a decade. A total of 1,409 shut their doors in the year ending September 2024, up from 1,180 in the 12 months before. The situation for hospitality in the UK at the moment is beyond anything we could have expected when we opened. We’re proud to have battled through it for so long.
“However, although we share this news with heavy hearts, we are immensely proud of everything we’ve achieved over the last six years. We’ve served vegan meals to thousands of non-vegans and we’ve supported the sanctuary and the animals who live there.”
Simple scran: Bacon burger and triple-cooked fries with rosemary
Of course we booked one final visit straight away, and if you’re reading this before February 1st 2025, you still have time to do so yourself. As a place to eat, it has always been appealing to vegans and omnivores alike. With a friendly staff and a welcoming vibe, as well as their cooked from scratch soul food (much of which has ‘fishy’ names, like lobster mac and cheese, crispy prawn tempura, or the restaurant’s popular signature dish, tofish and chips) Unity Diner is a great place to hang out, and meet up with friends or family.
Crème Brûlée: dried rose petals make a fragrant garnish
Honestly, on previous visits we have rarely had room for dessert, but on this final occasion we made an exception. The crème brûlée is absolutely delightful; fragrant with vanilla, rich and creamy with a crunchy caramelised topping, it’s the ideal end to a meal. For one of our party who was absolutely stuffed to capacity after the umami-rich seared oyster mushrooms with kale crisps, a frothy matcha latte served the same function: a perfect finish to a poignant experience.
Matcha latte: a fitting end to a delicious meal when you simply can’t eat another crumb
It’s not a total end to the project though. Sister restaurant No Catch down on Brighton seafront offers a great excuse for a day at the seaside.
Bardo Burner 