Nostalgia is funny, isn’t it? One taste and bam, you’re back at a sticky kitchen table, swinging your legs, watching someone you love move around a stove they know by heart.
A few weekends ago I decided to cook my way through six of my childhood comfort dishes, reimagining each one with a plant-based twist. Three were lovely in theory but didn’t quite make the “repeat forever” cut, more on them in a minute.
Three others? They’re now staples at my place.
As Marcel Proust put it, “The smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls.” I felt that line in my bones as I cooked. Smell and taste aren’t just flavors; they’re time machines.
Here’s what made the forever list, and exactly how I make each dish, fast, affordable, and weeknight-friendly.
1. Creamy tomato soup with buttery toast soldiers
If there was a soundtrack to my childhood winters, it would be the gentle clink of soup spoons and the scrape of toast across a bowl. Tomato soup was the first thing I learned to “help” with, translation, I got to open the can and stir. These days, I skip the can but keep the spirit, silky, bright, and comforting, with toast soldiers for dunking. It’s simple enough for a Tuesday but cozy enough for company.
Why this is a forever dish
It’s pantry-heavy, budget-friendly, and tastes like a hug. It also freezes beautifully, so I double it and stash portions for those evenings when I come home from trail running hungry and chilled.
Ingredients (serves 4)
2 tbsp olive oil or vegan butter
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, sliced
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tsp sugar, balances acidity
1 tsp dried oregano or Italian seasoning
1 (28-oz) can crushed tomatoes
3 cups vegetable broth
1/2 cup canned coconut milk or unsweetened almond milk
1 tsp red wine vinegar or lemon juice
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Optional, pinch of chili flakes or smoked paprika
For the toast soldiers
4 thick slices sourdough or country bread
2 tbsp vegan butter
Pinch of flaky salt
Directions
Warm the oil in a pot over medium heat. Add onion and a pinch of salt; cook until soft and translucent, 6–8 minutes.
Stir in garlic, tomato paste, sugar, and oregano. Cook 2 minutes until the paste darkens slightly, that’s your flavor base.
Add tomatoes and broth; bring to a simmer. Partially cover and cook 15 minutes.
Stir in coconut or almond milk. Simmer 2–3 minutes more.
Blend with an immersion blender until velvety, or leave a little texture. Finish with vinegar or lemon, and season boldly with salt and pepper.
For soldiers, butter bread on both sides, toast in a skillet until golden, then cut into thick batons. Sprinkle with flaky salt. Dunk with abandon.
Make it yours
Swap in roasted red peppers for 1 cup of the tomatoes for a smokier soup.
Stir in a handful of torn basil at the end when you want summer in a bowl.
Protein boost, add cooked white beans before blending; it becomes creamy without extra fat.
Nostalgia note
I still pause for that first spoonful, like a little ritual. It’s wild how quickly a simple soup can quiet an overthinking brain.
2. Weeknight lentil sloppy joes, the messy kind you eat over the sink
Sloppy joes were my dad’s specialty, strictly a paper-plate, elbows-out situation. The original version in our house was sweet tangy and a little smoky. I wanted that same saucy chaos without the heaviness, so I built a plant-based version around lentils and mushrooms. It hits every note I crave and comes together in about 30 minutes. Also, it tastes even better the next day, which is very adult of it.
Why this is a forever dish
It’s fast, high-protein, and meal-prep friendly. If you can chop an onion and open a tomato can, you’re basically there. It’s also a sneaky way to get a pile of fiber on a bun, something my former analyst-self appreciates almost as much as my hungry self.
Ingredients (serves 4–6)
1 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 green bell pepper, finely chopped
8 oz mushrooms, minced, or pulse in a processor
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 cups cooked brown or green lentils, or 1 can, drained
1 (15-oz) can tomato sauce
2 tbsp tomato paste
2–3 tbsp ketchup
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1–2 tbsp brown sugar or maple syrup, to taste
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp chili powder
1–2 tbsp soy sauce or tamari
1–2 tbsp apple cider vinegar, to taste
Salt and pepper
4–6 soft burger buns, toasted
Optional toppers, dill pickles, jalapeños, shredded cabbage
Directions
Heat oil in a wide skillet over medium. Sauté onion and bell pepper with a pinch of salt until soft, 5 minutes.
Add mushrooms; cook until they release moisture and brown a bit, 6–8 minutes.
Stir in garlic, lentils, tomato sauce, tomato paste, ketchup, mustard, brown sugar, smoked paprika, and chili powder.
Simmer 8–10 minutes, stirring often, until thick and glossy. Season with soy sauce, vinegar, salt, and pepper until the balance of tangy sweet smoky makes you grin.
Pile high on toasted buns. Add pickles for crunch. Eat immediately and let it be messy.
Shortcuts and swaps
No mushrooms? Use finely chopped walnuts for a meatier bite.
Gluten-free? Serve over baked potatoes or on gluten-free buns.
Spice lover? A dash of chipotle in adobo is perfect here.
Nostalgia note
My dad used to say, “If it’s not dripping, you’re not doing it right.” The adult recalibration, “If it’s not balanced, you’re not done simmering.” Both can be true.
3. Baked coconut rice pudding with cinnamon apples
This is pure comfort. In my grandmother’s kitchen, rice pudding cooled on the counter under a dishtowel, the surface wobbling slightly like it had a secret. I’ve adapted her stovetop version into a baked, mostly hands-off dessert, or breakfast, no judgment. Coconut milk makes it lush; a whisper of orange zest and vanilla keeps it bright. Warm cinnamon apples on top turn it into a showstopper without much extra work.
Why this is a forever dish
It’s economical, endlessly adaptable, and tastes even better cold from the fridge. It also uses pantry items, which means I can make it on a whim when friends stop by after the farmers’ market.
Ingredients (serves 6–8)
1 cup medium or short-grain white rice, rinsed
1 (13.5-oz) can full-fat coconut milk
3 cups oat or almond milk
1/3–1/2 cup sugar or maple syrup, to taste
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 tsp orange zest, optional but wonderful
1/2 tsp ground cardamom or cinnamon
Pinch of salt
1/2 cup raisins or chopped dates, optional
For the cinnamon apples
2 large apples, peeled and diced
1 tbsp vegan butter
1–2 tbsp maple syrup
1/2 tsp cinnamon
Pinch of salt
Squeeze of lemon
Directions
Heat oven to 350°F (175°C). Lightly grease a 2-quart baking dish.
In a large bowl, whisk coconut milk, plant milk, sugar, vanilla, zest, cardamom or cinnamon, and salt. Stir in rice, and raisins or dates if using.
Pour into the dish. Bake uncovered 45–55 minutes, stirring once around the 30-minute mark, until the top looks set and the rice is tender. It will thicken more as it cools.
Meanwhile, cook apples in vegan butter over medium heat until glossy and tender, 5–7 minutes. Stir in maple, cinnamon, salt, and a squeeze of lemon.
Serve pudding warm, topped with apples. Or chill and enjoy cold, the texture turns custardy.
Make ahead
The pudding keeps 4–5 days in the fridge. Thin with a splash of milk when reheating.
Nostalgia note
I used to hover over my grandmother’s shoulder and steal raisins from the bowl. Now I add chopped dates for little caramel bursts. Same mischief, better texture.
The three that didn’t make the forever list, and why
Chickpea “tuna” casserole: I tried to recreate the baked noodle casserole I grew up with, creamy sauce, peas, crunchy top, using chickpeas and cashew cream. It was fine. But it leaned heavy and flat. I’m still tinkering with acid and brine, capers, lemon, a splash of pickle juice, to get the sea kissed brightness right.
Agar “gelatin” fruit salad: This one tasted like summer camp talent shows and folding chairs. I swapped gelatin for agar-agar. The texture set, but the joy didn’t. Fresh fruit with lime and a pinch of salt does the job with less fuss.
Boxed mac redux: I wanted the orange comfort of my after-school staple, done from scratch with a quick cashew carrot cheese. It was good, but the tomato soup and toast combo scratches the same itch with more depth. When I want mac, I want time to make it properly, with a slow, silky cashew cheese and lots of black pepper. Not a weeknight move.
None of these were disasters; they just didn’t earn a permanent spot in my rotation. That’s the point of a nostalgia cook-through, separate the food from the fantasy, and keep what still feeds you.
What these recipes taught me about comfort, and about myself
The most interesting part of this little project wasn’t the cooking, it was the noticing. Which textures settle my nervous system? Which scents make me stand a little taller at the counter? What do I reach for when I’m tired versus when I want to celebrate?
A few patterns emerged:
Simple beats complicated under pressure. On a long day, my brain wants autopilot, not choreography. The soup and sloppy joes let me cook on muscle memory while a podcast hums in the background.
Warm, creamy, tangy equals safe. Each keeper has that trio in some form. The soup gets creaminess from coconut or almond milk and tang from vinegar. The sloppy joes are glossy, sweet, tangy with welcome smoke. The pudding is just pure calm.
Rituals matter. Toast batons, pickles on the bun, a dish towel over cooling pudding, these small repeats tell my body, “We’ve been here before, and we made it through.”
If you decide to run your own nostalgia experiment, here’s a simple framework I used:
Pick six childhood dishes that represent different moods, sick day, celebration, rushed weeknight, Sunday slow cook.
Plant base them with curiosity, not perfectionism. You’re chasing feeling first, then flavor.
Taste for balance, often what our memories skip is acid and salt. A half teaspoon of vinegar or another pinch of salt can bridge decades.
Create one tiny ritual per dish, a garnish, a plate, a playlist. The ritual becomes the memory glue.
Pantry cheat sheet
If you want to make all three keepers without another grocery run, here’s the condensed list I keep on hand:
Canned crushed tomatoes and tomato paste
Coconut milk, oat or almond milk
Brown or green lentils, canned or dry
Mushrooms, onions, garlic, bell peppers
Spices, smoked paprika, chili powder, cinnamon or cardamom, oregano
Flavor boosters, soy sauce or tamari, Dijon, ketchup, vinegar, sugar or maple
Breads and buns
Short or medium grain rice
Raisins or dates, apples, citrus
Final thoughts
Cooking the past is less about perfect replicas and more about honest signals. Which dishes carry your stories forward? Which ones can retire with love? For me, these three, tomato soup with buttery toast soldiers, lentil sloppy joes, and baked coconut rice pudding, are forever keepers. They’re economical, plant based, and deeply human in the way they anchor a busy life.
If you try any of them, tell me what they brought back for you. And if a dish doesn’t live up to its legend, that’s okay. Sometimes the memory is the meal, and sometimes the meal becomes a new memory. Either way, you win.
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Dining and Cooking