When I moved to Melbourne a decade ago, the city was a plant-based paradise. Fitzroy had at least eight dedicated meat-free establishments in a three-kilometre radius. The Cruelty-Free Shop , a wonderland of non-dairy cheeses and plant-based candy bars, was then a promising one-year-old. Meanwhile, Mister Nice Guy’s Bakeshop in Ascot Vale had confidently been doing its thing for five years, proving that, yes, you could have your outstanding plant-based cake (and scrolls and sausage rolls) and eat it, too. I threw myself into plant-based potlucks and volunteer groups, and became part of a tight-knit community bound by our love of soy sausage and a disdain for the Melbourne Cup.

Cut to now, and many of the places my friends and I once frequented have either closed or evolved. In Fitzroy, Thai favourite Madame K’s , Yong Green Food cafe and the aforementioned Cruelty-Free Shop have all shut. Vegie Bar is holding strong after more than 35 years, but upscale sibling Transformer has gone dark (Broadsheet contacted Transformer for comment but is yet to receive a response).

Meanwhile, Melbourne’s Lord of the Fries has drastically scaled back its presence across Australia and New Zealand, swinging the axe on most of its stores due to ongoing financial struggles. Once boasting over 35 locations at its peak, the plant-based fast food chain is now down to just six, with co-founders Mark Koronczyk and Amanda Leigh Walker exiting the company in January.

As someone who remembers the salad days of a city once called the fourth most vegan-friendly place on Earth , all of this makes me wonder: where have all the vegans gone?

Shannon Martinez of Smith & Daughters is wondering the same thing. The vegan hospitality icon remembers a time when her Melbourne diner was “raucous and heaving”, and she’s recently pivoted to a social club format in an effort to bring back some of the energy of the restaurant’s Fitzroy era.

There’s a big lever Martinez hasn’t pulled yet, but it’s one she’s been thinking about a lot lately. For the first time in its 11-year history, Smith & Daughters might need to put meat on the menu.

“We’ve never been this quiet,” she tells Broadsheet. “I’m so close to bankruptcy right now, it’s not fucking funny.”

Martinez says the restaurant’s per-head spend has plummeted due to cost of living and daily bookings are now less than half of what they should be. “ No one’s coming to a vegan restaurant for a corporate lunch or a function,” she says. “We’re missing out on those sort of big things that help hospitality businesses stay afloat.”

But she also has other theories – one is that her core vegan audience isn’t particularly affluent (people who prioritise ethics in their diet often do the same in their careers, and humanitarian jobs typically don’t come with high salaries). Another is that while Australians are eating less meat in general , it hasn’t led to an increased interest in vegan restaurants.

Despite being a meat-eater herself, Martinez is still as passionate as ever about serving “the best vegan food in Melbourne”. But between declining revenue and rising rent, the switch to a flexitarian menu might be the only way forward for her trailblazing restaurant. It’s a hypothetical pivot, but Martinez is already prepared for the inevitable “shitstorm” that would follow. She’s seen vegan businesses get torn apart online for something as small as adding dairy milk to their coffee menu. But she’s willing to cop it if the alternative is closing completely.

“It’s either you come and still eat the vegan food that Smith & Daughters has, next to someone that eats meat, or we don’t get it at all.”

But the shitstorm Martinez imagines might not be as severe as it would’ve been 10 years ago. In the UK, where the label “vegan” was coined, plant-based eating is losing traction due to a combination of factors, not least cost-of-living pressures and the fact that mock meats generally cost more than the animal equivalents.

And yes, people change diets for a variety of reasons. My own relationship with veganism is evidence of this. I still love mock meat and eat largely plant-based at home. But over the last few years, I’ve reintroduced eggs, dairy and even offal into my diet, while others have embraced backyard eggs and bone broth. My decision wasn’t made lightly, either. As a food journalist, I found that eating without restrictions was a form of education and connection. And with a history of disordered eating, I realised that rigid dietary labels weren’t sustainable for my mental health.

I’m not alone in the change. Among my former vegan friends, only a few have stayed the course. (Thank God we didn’t get those vegan tattoos we always talked about.) Even high-profile vegan celebs Miley Cyrus, Lizzo and notorious wellness blogger Jordan Younger have ditched the label for their own reasons – resulting in controversy and even death threats.

There’s no denying the broader shift in consumers moving away from strict diets in favour of more flexible ones. According to Food Frontier, more than a third of Australians are cutting back on meat , either for health reasons or because it’s too expensive. Rather than seeking fully vegan meals, many are simply reducing animal products where possible.

The question of “where do you get your protein?” is a running joke among vegans, and often the first of many from sceptics. The rebuttal: lentils, tofu and certain vegetables, when eaten in adequate amounts, provide enough protein to meet daily needs. But with protein now the diet du jour , the pressure to hit ever-increasing targets hasn’t helped the case for veganism. It’s true – reaching 150 grams of protein a day is far easier with a cup of cottage cheese or a steak than with legumes alone.

Fable , an Australian plant protein launched in 2019, is leaning into this shift. Its mushroom-based alternative mimics the texture of slow-cooked beef or pork – and it’s made its way into big Aussie chains Fishbowl, Zeus Street Greek and Guzman y Gomez.

But according to co-founder Michael Fox, around four out of five Fable consumers eat meat.

“We don’t really position ourselves as a meat alternative,” says Fox. “We just lean into being a mushroom product and meat-eaters like mushrooms as much as vegans do.”

Fable has also been developing a new beef and mushroom-based burger product designed to complement – rather than replace – animal protein. The concept: because mushrooms have better moisture retention that beef, the combination of the two will result in a meatier taste and texture, and will reduce the overall consumption of meat. Ironically, the first venue to roll it out is Umami House , a rebrand of Randwick burger joint Soul Burger , Sydney’s first entirely plant-based burger chain.

The Soul Burger menu is still available and cooked on a separate grill to avoid cross-contamination. But owner Amit Tewari says running a physical location with a small target market was no longer financially viable. Instead, he’s done a complete 180 and is now focused on crafting “the best possible beef burger” – one that happens to be blended with mushrooms. The fact that it’s more sustainable isn’t something he’s shouting about.

“There was probably too much moralising with plant-based meat alternatives,” he says. “People don’t want to be preached to. They just want something that tastes good.”

The team at Green Man’s Arms agrees. The former vegetarian pub went completely plant-based last year, making it the first 100 per cent vegan pub in the country. But even it’s avoiding strict labels.

“We tend to market ourselves as a pub first,” says Castle Group co-owner Grant Turvey. “It just happens to be healthy. It happens to be plant-based. We get dads who come in and have our mushroom steak, they have a Guinness, and it feels just like a normal dining experience.”

But Turvey acknowledges the importance of maintaining a vegan-friendly space for those who want it. From what he can tell, the change has been beneficial so far. “When we went totally vegan, we got a good 10 to 15 per cent bump in bookings,” says Turvey. “There was just a gratefulness that you’ve done that sort of stuff, and still those people are coming back every week.”

So, where have all the vegans gone? Nowhere, really. Melbourne will always have its lifers. But for the rest, the goal is no longer abstinence – it’s balance. The hard lines of the 2010s have blurred into something more pragmatic, where plant-based eating is less about purity and more about preference. And if eating your mushroom burger next to someone carving up a steak is what keeps an essential Melbourne restaurant like Smith & Daughters afloat, then so be it.