A couple of weeks ago, I sat at a long, communal table in UCLA’s Mediterranean-themed dining hall. I was attending a dinner with club teammates, and I noticed a few pairs of curious eyes scan my plate. I had eschewed the seafood and kebabs that typically draw students to this particular eatery and opted for a tower of hummus and grilled veggies instead.

“Are you vegan, Kate?” one of my friends asked. I nodded. “Oh wow really. I can’t imagine telling an Asian mom I wouldn’t eat her cooking anymore.”

Chuckling group mates concurred with my friend, sprinkling in how horrified their immigrant parents would be by the prospect of vegan children.

“Telling my Mexican mom ‘no birria,’ get out!”

The perfect vegan lunch-box treat

Lightly sauté shredded carrots and edamame in sesame oil. Stir in hydrated hijiki sea vegetable. Combine the mix with sushi rice, generously seasoned with salt, sake, and mirin. Use your palms to create triangular onigiri rice balls. Pack the rice balls in a bento box as is, or place the balls in firm inari age tofu pockets.

A young woman crouches next to a peaceful cow with a green bow on its head. — My love for farm animals prompted me to research veganism as a child. The more I have visited animal sanctuaries and learned about factory farming, the more determined I have become to find veganized traditional foods. Photo source: Kate Green

The truth is, when I decided to stop eating animal products eight years ago, I feared it might mean letting go of my culinary heritage.

I had done my due diligence to prepare for the plant-based leap. Once my middle-school brain came to the startling realization that cows don’t naturally produce milk year-round for humans to enjoy, I fell down a research rabbit hole.

I streamed Cowspiracy and Earthlings and binge-watched every budget-friendly vegan “what I eat in a day” video on YouTube. After discovering that the pork in my beloved tonkatsu comes from creatures more intelligent than my aunt’s puppy, I immediately began meeting with a dietician to learn how to build plant-based protein into my meals.

“The only hole in my otherwise air-tight conviction was my inability to find a fix for the havoc veganism would wreak on my culinary heritage. ”

I also developed an arsenal of retorts for every veganism naysayer. No, plants do not feel pain because they do not have nervous systems. Yes, it’s possible to get all the protein and nutrients you need from a vegan diet (especially if you’re okay taking vitamin B-12 supplements).

The only hole in my otherwise air-tight conviction was my inability to find a fix for the havoc veganism would wreak on my culinary heritage. The fledgling eco-activist in me knew that boycotting factory farming is worth losing out on the tuna sashimi and tonkatsu bentos core to my Japanese diet. The life-long animal lover in me knew that aligning my plate to my moral compass is worth forgoing the reuben sandwiches and chicken-based matzo ball soup my Jewish family typically eats. But a future without the food I’d grown up with? It seemed pretty bleak.

The tastiest multicultural snack

Toast a thick slice of rye bread until it’s golden brown. Spread the bread with a generous layer of sticky natto beans. Prepare a Japanese quick pickle with rice vinegar and thinly sliced cucumber. Garnish your natto toast with the pickle for a refreshing bite.

As a multi-ethnic American, my connection to my Japanese and Ashkenazi Jewish heritage sometimes feels tenuously thin. I don’t speak Japanese or Yiddish and I’ve never been to Japan or Ukraine. It might sound silly, but devouring a bowl of chashu ramen or even eating Passover gefilte fish used to be my way to feel connected to my past. It’s not easy to one day flip a switch and go without the foods that affirm your identity.

But since then, I have spent years practicing how to preserve important food traditions while working toward more ethical and environmentally conscious eating choices. Basically, what I did was veganize traditional foods—and learn to love them.

A vendor at a Japanese market displays an array of traditional Japanese produce. — While Japanese cuisine is known for its seafood focus, I have learned to appreciate my culture’s wealth of traditional plant-based ingredients. Photo source: Ryutaro Tsukata

Here’s where I’d like to introduce my mother. Raised in the Japanese American hub of Torrance, California, the daughter of parents imprisoned in Japanese internment camps, she has always upheld the importance of maintaining our Japanese roots. She cringes when I pronounce karaoke with hard English vowels and barred Barbies from my childhood in protest of Euro-centric beauty standards.

I was afraid she’d be unhappy once I told her I’d given up meat. But instead of pushing back on my decision, she taught me to celebrate each discovery of a vegan ingredient in Japan’s culinary repertoire.

As for my dad, that man famously cannot cook a meal to save his life. Yet, he still found entertaining ways to teach me about Jewish cuisine. My friends still tease me about a day in elementary school when everyone’s parents came into class to talk about their family traditions. My teacher asked my father “What do you eat on Shabbat?” and he answered “Taco salad!” before launching into a description of a typical sabbath meal. He always folded Ashkenazi food traditions into stories and jokes, embracing the dishes’ humble origins as fodder for spiels about heritage and survival.

While my parents shared my initial concerns about veganism distancing me from family traditions, they were flexible and curious about plant-based eating and seized the opportunity to research vegan foods along with me.

It was easier than I thought to veganize meals.

Yes, Japan is known for delicious fish dishes. But the country also boasts a rich history of unique sea vegetable treats. You can’t get more quintessentially Japanese than wakame kelp and hijiki algae. Pair them with tofu and you create protein-rich dishes that taste of the sea.

Chopsticks dive into a bowl of vegan ramen topped with tofu and vegetables. The soup is served in traditional Japanese pottery. — One of my favorite homemade Japanese dishes is my vegan ramen. Leaning on ingredients like *wakame*, *menma*, and *kabocha*, creates a rich and comforting soup. Photo source: Kate Green

And yes, traditional kreplach dumplings are filled with beef and classic rugeleh have their fair share of butter. But Judaism’s kosher food laws forbid the mixing meat and dairy during meals. So, veganizing recipes to create complete menus is one of the most Jewish practices you can engage with in the kitchen.

Gradually, this attitude toward veganism catalyzed my family’s interest in and appreciation for a broader variety of cultural ingredients. For example, we could no longer simply accept the cookie-cutter image of Japanese food we often see in the U.S—chicken teriyaki and crab-stuffed California rolls. We had to dive deeper into Japanese culinary history to sift out plant-based options.

Prior to going vegan, I likely would never have sampled natto (sticky, polarizing, fermented soybean goo). I would have stuck with Americanized mochi ice cream as opposed to traditionally vegan mochi filled with red bean paste. Over time I learned that vegan meals opened up new opportunities to taste my heritage, not closed them.

The most flavorful vegan ramen broth

Broil onion, ginger, and garlic. Add toasted aromatics to a stock pot with dried shiitake mushrooms, kombu, cabbage, and scallions. Cover with one inch of water. Boil. Strain. Whisk in pureed sweet potato, miso paste, and sesame paste. Finish with egg-free noodles and vegetable toppings of your choice.

By middle school, I had a mental map of all of the best ramen spots in the Bay Area, which is where I grew up. There was the hole-in-the-wall shop on the edge of the Mission District and a few classic locations in the heart of San Francisco’s Japantown. But, my mother taught me well, and I knew that if you wanted the best ramen, you should drive to authentic ramen restaurants south of San Francisco in San Mateo.

A wooden platter of pastel and cream colored vegan Japanese desserts. — Veganism has led me to broaden my horizons and embrace foods like traditional *wagashi* confections. These delicate *mochi* and *anko treats* epitomize the beauty and complexity of plant-based Japanese food culture. Photo source: Vicky Ng

I can close my eyes and picture my orders at each joint—the still-wobbly boiled eggs floating on top of the broth’s film of richness. The islands of chashu that I’d save for last and wash down with traditional barley tea.

The moment I blurted out “I want to go vegan!” the constellation of pins on my mental map dwindled to a few scattered hipster destinations. Craving Japanese food now largely means making my own dishes from scratch.

Time is the magic ingredient when turning water into a complex broth. Nailing a dessert’s textures usually means pounding rice or sesame seeds until your triceps curse you. Fermented elements can be key to the prized umami fifth flavor, and Japan’s obsession with hyper-specific food textures demands expert culinary timing. You cannot rush the building blocks of a delicious Japanese bite.

But having to make my own Japanese food at home has been the perfect excuse to slow down and spend hours focusing on the traditions that make me me. Each minute, each recipe, strengthening my roots.

Kate Green is a Stone Pier Press News Fellow based in San Francisco, CA.

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