Over the past couple of weeks I’ve heard of two example — one local here in London, Ontario and one elsewhere, in LA — where a formerly fully plant-based business has decided to “change its business model” to include animal products. This decision always generates backlash among vegans, who see it as a betrayal and, worse, a moral regression at the expense of the non-human animals whose suffering we rail against and deplore. Sadly and disappointingly, the world is not yet vegan.
The local establishment is none other than Vaka, of the five-course dessert tasting menu. The owner, Serge, announced shortly after I attended the dessert-tasting that “Vaka as we know it” will cease to be and that everyone should stay tuned for a new venture. In a heartfelt post in Instagram, he said it was a tough decision but in the end “a business must make money, so it can fairly compensate the individuals involved, while making a difference in the community, and rewarding those who choose to support it.” This week he introduced “buttercreme,” an ice cream shop that will be offering “super-premium ice cream | soft-baked gourmet cookies | for everyone: dairy + plant-based + gluten free | COMING SOON.”
At the addition of dairy, the local vegan FB group lit up with debate almost immediately, with people affirming that they would no longer frequent Serge’s shop. Frequent posts that include lists of, and even shout-outs to, omnivore restaurants that include plant-based options and draw attention to new plant-based products at supermarkets that sell all manner of animal products don’t get any backlash on this same board. I will get to that asymmetry in a moment.
The LA example is about the shift from Sage Bistro & Brewery, which had been fully plant-based, to Sage Regenerative Kitchen & Brewery, which as of May 29th will be adding “regenerative farm-based beef, bison, cheese, and eggs to a previously plant-based menu.” In this case, the decision was not based on more than lack of clientele. The owner said in an open letter to the plant-based community that “through my experience in farming, I have had the great honor of witnessing the beauty of nature up close and come to the realization that we cannot take ourselves outside of the natural order of things. What I discovered is that most of the fruits and vegetables that we love are not ‘vegan,’ they are fertilized with animal by-products, such as blood, bone, fish emulsion, and animal manure from concentrated animal feedlots.” This realization created an inner conflict that she has grappled with for some time and has led her to no longer feel that “a vegan lifestyle for all is a viable solution for the planet and its soil which is one of our most precious resources.” As such, she is revamping her menu to include animal ingredients that “support 100% regenerative farms.”
The reaction to this type of announcement — about adding animal products to a plant-based menu — falls into two main camps: 1. Nope; you have lost our support and 2. we get it, we’re sorry it didn’t work out, but you need to make a living. The first camp thinks the shift from plant-based to include additional offerings made with animal products is a type of moral-backsliding that people should not support. The idea here is that if you once thought that animal agriculture is cruel to animals and that supporting it is morally wrong, no amount of business trouble changes that basic moral fact. It’s a betrayal, not just of the community, but of nonhuman animals who are exploited by the trillions, globally, every year. The second camp thinks that penalizing someone who tried, but couldn’t make a go of it, while still supporting and even promoting other omnivore businesses is unduly harsh or punitive on the person who gave it their best effort.
I see the force of both perspectives, and tilt towards the second. That doesn’t preclude a sense of disappointment. And the disappointment lands in a number of places. In the first instance, it’s natural to feel disappointed when a vendor whose moral compass seemed to align with your own sets aside those convictions for the sake of business. Here I would draw attention to a larger source of disappointment: the capitalist structures at play, which clearly favour omnivore businesses and mitigate against more plant-based niches. That said, we have a handful of plant-based establishments here, and I wonder whether a more prominent location might have helped the original business succeed. I guess we’ll see whether adding dairy brings more people in to Serge’s shop. Given the competition in the ice cream market, I have my doubts.
The LA restaurant has a different type of reasoning built into its decision that has not got to do only with maintaining clientele. She believes the regenerative approach is superior. This view is more in line with the arguments from sustainability, and also draws attention to the impossibility of being a perfect vegan. We see the turn to alternative smaller-scale types of operations offered as more humane than factory farms, and perhaps they are — it’s hard to imagine anything less humane than a factory farm. In some ways, her arguments push vegans to do more research on the sustainability data. But animal exploitation is animal exploitation; animal suffering is animal suffering; and it’s hard to agree that just because it’s impossible to be perfect we might as well just go for it and eat animals. I understand that she has offered an argument from experience to support her commitment to regenerative agriculture. My gut reaction is disappointment because, as I have often said, the arguments about animal suffering and exploitation strike me as decisive.
Why, then, do I lean towards the second camp: those who will not actively call for a boycott of the formerly plant-based business who introduces animal products? For me, unless I’m willing to stop supporting all restaurants, food shops, food brands, clothing brands, cosmetics brands, and businesses that ever include animal ingredients in their products, taking special aim at those who tried and failed feels unduly harsh. And also inconsistent. At the same time I won’t go out of my way to frequent buttercreme the way I would if it had stayed fully plant-based. That’s not as strong a reaction as the first camp, of course, but it does indicate less enthusiasm for it than I once had. I can’t imagine what I would do if my beloved Plant Matter Kitchen introduced animal products.
It would be great if “plant-based” or “vegan” didn’t make so many people think “inferior” or “must taste awful.” I think of the delicious carrot cake I made for an event, and someone said they were glad they didn’t know it was vegan before they ate a piece. They might not have tried it, they said. It would be great if faltering vegan businesses didn’t think introducing animal products would solve their problems. It would be great if we lived in a world where the market forces of capitalism didn’t call the shots over basic values like compassion and the commitment to non-harm.
Instead of ending on a note of disappointment, I want to remind everyone of the stealth approach of Boneshakers in Paris. This patisserie went in the opposite direction of Vaka and Sage. After establishing itself as a popular spot for American-style donuts and French pastries, using butter and eggs in its original recipes, the owner became vegan herself. In order to remain true to her convictions, she slowly revised animal products out of the ingredients she used for her baking. But she didn’t tell anyone until she released her cookbook some years after. Her patisserie remains a successful business. Check it out here.


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