Soul Food vs. Vegan Soul Food: Which Tastes Better? I Compared Them Blind

My Grandma’s Cooking Is Sacred

I’m from the South. Georgia, specifically. And in my family, soul food is a religion. Sunday dinners were fried chicken, collard greens cooked with smoked turkey, mac and cheese that was basically a dairy bomb, and cornbread that could double as a dessert. My grandma, Miss Ruth, has been making these recipes for 60 years. She doesn’t measure anything. She just knows.

So when my cousin went vegan three years ago, my grandma was… skeptical. “How you gonna have soul food without the soul?” she’d say. But my cousin kept bringing vegan versions to family gatherings. Black bean burgers. Cashew cheese. Jackfruit “pulled pork.” They were good, but they weren’t the same.

Fast forward to 2026, and vegan soul food is having a moment. Restaurants like Soul Vegan in Atlanta and The Southern V in Brooklyn are getting rave reviews. Even mainstream chains are adding vegan options. I had to settle this once and for all. So I organized a blind taste test with my grandma as the judge. Here’s what happened.

The Setup: A Fair Fight

I got takeout from two places: my grandma’s kitchen (traditional soul food) and a popular vegan spot called “Greens & Roots” in Decatur, Georgia. I picked five classic dishes: fried chicken (or vegan “chicken”), mac and cheese, collard greens, cornbread, and banana pudding. I put them in identical containers and labeled them A and B. My grandma didn’t know which was which.

We sat down at her dining table. She looked at the containers suspiciously. “This better not be that rabbit food,” she said. I just smiled.

Round 1: Fried Chicken vs. Vegan “Chicken”

The vegan version was made from soy protein coated in seasoned breadcrumbs and fried. It looked almost identical. My grandma took a bite of Sample A (vegan). She chewed slowly. “It ain’t bad,” she said. “But it’s dry.” Then she tried Sample B (hers). “Now that’s chicken.”

I agreed. The vegan version had good flavor—smoky, spicy, with a nice crunch. But the texture was off. It was too uniform, too perfect. Real fried chicken has that juiciness, that irregularity. The vegan version was a good imitation, but it wasn’t the real thing.

Winner: Traditional. By a landslide.

Round 2: Mac and Cheese

This was the test I was most curious about. Vegan mac and cheese has come a long way. The one from Greens & Roots used cashew cream, nutritional yeast, and a little turmeric for color. It looked creamy and golden. My grandma took a forkful of Sample A (vegan). She paused. “Hmm.” Then she tried Sample B (hers). “This is cheese,” she said.

I tasted both. The vegan version was surprisingly good. Creamy, tangy, with a slight nuttiness. But it lacked that sharp cheddar punch. And the texture was a bit grainy—cashew cream can’t quite replicate the silkiness of melted dairy. My grandma’s version was rich, gooey, and indulgent. It’s not even close.

Winner: Traditional. But the vegan version deserves respect.

Round 3: Collard Greens

My grandma’s collard greens are legendary. She cooks them for hours with smoked turkey, onion, and a secret spice blend (she won’t tell me what it is). They’re savory, slightly bitter, and utterly satisfying. The vegan version used vegetable broth, liquid smoke, and a bit of coconut aminos for depth.

Sample A (vegan) was good. The liquid smoke gave it that smoky flavor, and the greens were tender. But it lacked complexity. It tasted like a one-note song. Sample B (traditional) was a symphony. Every bite had layers—smokiness, earthiness, a hint of heat. My grandma smiled. “See? Soul food got soul.”

Winner: Traditional. Not a surprise.

Round 4: Cornbread

Vegan cornbread is surprisingly easy to make. Greens & Roots used flax eggs and almond milk. The result was moist, slightly sweet, and actually delicious. My grandma’s cornbread is denser, more savory, with a crispy crust. She uses buttermilk and real butter.

I tried both blind. The vegan version was lighter and sweeter. My grandma’s was heartier. I honestly couldn’t pick a winner. They were different, both good. My grandma liked the vegan version more than she expected. “It’s fine,” she said. “But it ain’t cornbread.”

Winner: Tie. Both are great in their own way.

Round 5: Banana Pudding

This was the upset. Vegan banana pudding uses coconut milk and cashew cream instead of condensed milk and heavy cream. I expected it to be thin and sad. It was not. The vegan version was rich, creamy, and perfectly sweet. The bananas were fresh, the wafers were crunchy. It was genuinely delicious.

My grandma’s version is a classic—thick, velvety, with a hint of vanilla. But honestly? The vegan version was lighter and didn’t leave me feeling heavy. My grandma tried both and said, “I hate to admit it, but the rabbit food is pretty good.”

Winner: Vegan. First time I’ve ever said that.

The Final Score

Traditional soul food won 3 rounds, vegan won 1, and 1 was a tie. So traditional is still the champ. But here’s the thing: the gap is closing. Five years ago, vegan soul food was a joke. Now, it’s a legitimate option. The vegan fried chicken needs work, but the mac and cheese and banana pudding could fool anyone.

My grandma, for her part, said she’d eat at Greens & Roots again. “But I’m not giving up my chicken,” she added. Fair enough. I’m not either. But I’ll definitely order that vegan banana pudding again.

What I Learned

This test wasn’t about which is “better.” It’s about what we value in food. Traditional soul food is about history, family, and indulgence. Vegan soul food is about innovation, health, and accessibility. Both have a place at the table. Literally.

If you’re vegan, you don’t have to miss out on soul food. The vegan versions are getting good. And if you’re traditionalist, don’t knock it till you try it. You might be surprised. I was.