Everybody Told Me to Take the Burrito Off the Menu

When I put the burrito on the menu, I was embarrassed by it.

I'd been doing grain bowls, curries, sheet pan meals — things that felt like they belonged on a vegan menu. The kind of food people expect when they're ordering plant-based. Brown rice. Tahini. Roasted vegetables arranged nicely in a bowl.

A burrito felt too obvious. Too close to fast food. Like I was trying to convince people that vegan food could pretend to be something it wasn't.

I almost pulled it before the first week shipped.

Then the orders came in. The burrito outsold everything else. Not by a little — by a lot. Guys who told me flat out they didn't eat "rabbit food" were texting me asking how to order more. Construction workers in Naples. Athletes who'd never gone near a vegan restaurant in their lives. People who only ordered it the first time because a friend made them.

I kept waiting for the novelty to wear off. It didn't.

Here's what I think is happening: the burrito doesn't ask anything of you. You don't have to be interested in veganism. You don't have to care about macros or inflammation markers or any of it. You just have to want a burrito — the weight of it in your hand, the smell of Beyond Beef and tomato sauce coming through the bag, the way avocado and plant-based cheddar work together without needing explanation.

It's not trying to be a vegan version of something. It just is what it is.

I call it the World Famous Vegan Burrito now. That's a joke and it's not. At some point I stopped worrying about whether a burrito fit my idea of what I was supposed to be making, and I started trusting that people know what they like.

That's probably the most useful thing I've learned running this business.

Order this week's menu →

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