Here’s the thing about cooking Thanksgiving for people who think vegan food is “just salad”: you can’t afford a single miss. One dry protein or bland side, and you’ve lost them. They’ll smile politely while mentally planning their post-dinner burger run.
I’ve been hired to do exactly this—cook elaborate plant-based dinners for clients whose guests would riot if they knew there wasn’t any butter involved. The secret? Make food so good that the dietary restrictions become invisible. When I got asked to plan an all-vegan Thanksgiving for a mixed group of 12 (some vegetarian, most decidedly not), I knew I had one shot to make this work.
This menu isn’t about converting anyone. It’s about serving a meal so satisfying that nobody notices what’s missing.
The centerpiece: mushroom Wellington with red wine reduction
Get the full Wellington recipe here.
Forget trying to replicate turkey. The Wellington is what turkey wishes it could be—flaky puff pastry wrapped around umami-rich mushrooms, chestnuts, and herbs. It looks impressive (but isn’t difficult), and it slices into perfect portions that photograph beautifully.
The red wine reduction does the heavy lifting. Rich, glossy, and restaurant-quality when you drizzle it over each slice at the table. I learned this technique from a chef in London who served it at a Michelin-starred spot—plant-based food doesn’t need to apologize when it’s this well-executed.
Maple-bourbon glazed sweet potatoes with candied pecans
Get all 4 side dish recipes here.
Sweet potato casserole gets a bad reputation in fine dining circles, but I’m not abandoning it. I’m just upgrading it. Skip the marshmallows. Instead, roast sweet potatoes until their edges caramelize, then hit them with a maple-bourbon glaze that walks the line between sweet and sophisticated.
The candied pecans add crunch and a hint of smoke. This dish works because it gives people the comfort-food hit they’re expecting while tasting elevated enough that nobody’s calling it “basic.”
Roasted Brussels sprouts with pomegranate and tahini drizzle
Brussels sprouts are the redemption story of the vegetable world. Done right—charred, crispy, with acid to cut through the richness—they disappear faster than the turkey used to.
Pomegranate seeds add pops of sweetness and visual appeal. The tahini drizzle brings creaminess without dairy. I’ve served this at dinner parties where confirmed sprout-haters went back for seconds.
Herb and garlic mashed potatoes (oat milk and olive oil)
Mashed potatoes are non-negotiable at Thanksgiving, and this is where you prove vegan versions can compete. The trick is treating olive oil like the luxury ingredient it is—good quality, fruity, generous. Combined with oat milk (creamier than almond, less sweet than coconut), you get mashed potatoes that are somehow both lighter and richer than the dairy version.
Fresh herbs and roasted garlic make these memorable. Finish with flaky sea salt and a final drizzle of olive oil because presentation matters, even for mashed potatoes.
Sourdough sage stuffing with wild mushrooms
Get all 4 side dish recipes here.
Stuffing is where Thanksgiving lives or dies. The vegan challenge isn’t the butter (olive oil works beautifully)—it’s building enough savory depth without turkey drippings or sausage.
Wild mushrooms are the answer. They bring earthiness and umami that make this taste like it’s been developing for hours. Fresh sage, good vegetable stock, and properly staled and toasted bread create texture that’s both crispy and custardy. This is the dish that makes meat-eaters forget they’re eating plant-based.
Classic cranberry-orange relish
Sometimes the best move is not reinventing anything. Fresh cranberries, orange zest, a touch of maple syrup. Bright, tart, cutting through all the richness on the plate. This is naturally vegan and nobody’s questioning it.
Most of this menu comes together the day before—the Wellington can be assembled and refrigerated, the stuffing prepped, even the mashed potatoes done early and reheated—leaving you free to actually enjoy the day.
Pumpkin pie with coconut whipped cream
Get the pumpkin pie recipe here.
Pumpkin pie filling is essentially vegan already—pumpkin, spices, sugar, and a binder. Coconut cream replaces condensed milk, and the result is lighter, letting the spices shine more clearly.
The coconut whipped cream is where you flex. Whip it cold with vanilla and powdered sugar, and watch people’s faces when you tell them there’s no dairy. I’ve had guests insist it must be real whipped cream. It’s not. It’s just done right.
The real winning strategy
Here’s what I’ve learned from cooking in restaurants and people’s homes: the best plant-based meals don’t announce themselves. They don’t make excuses or try to replace something else. They’re just exceptional food that happens to be vegan.
This menu works because every dish earns its place at the table. The Wellington is a showstopper. The sides balance comfort and sophistication. The dessert delivers exactly what Thanksgiving dessert should—warm spices, creamy filling, nostalgic satisfaction.
When you plate this meal, nobody’s thinking about what’s missing. They’re too busy eating.
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Dining and Cooking