Sander Nooij

I recently read Broadsheet ’s article “ Where Have All the Vegans Gone? ”, in which writer Quincy Malesovas questions whether the “salad days” of veganism are over in Australia. As the head chef and co-owner of a plant-based restaurant, I had a knee-jerk response to this question. My first thought was, “What are they talking about?”, followed by all sorts of defensive arguments. But since then, I’ve realised there’s nothing in the article I really disagree with.

For example, vegan hospitality icon Shannon Martinez of Smith & Daughters has a compelling theory that some members of the vegan community have abandoned restaurant dining due to cost-of-living pressures. The thinking is these individuals prioritise ethics when it comes to their diets and careers, and that “humanitarian jobs typically don’t come with high salaries”. Fair enough.

But more broadly, the article suggests the idea of opening a vegan restaurant – or buying one, as my business partner Mark Hanover and I have recently done – is counterintuitive in the current climate. But here’s the thing: we don’t think of Yellow as a vegan restaurant.

In the process of buying Yellow from Bentley Group last year, Mark and I thought carefully about our brand and messaging, because we knew how important this would be in the future success of the restaurant. In my research into the field of plant-based dining, I came across the term “botanical cuisine”, which is how two-Michelin-starred Netherlands restaurant De Nieuwe Winkel describes itself. We love the term and have adopted it for our own use at Yellow. Why? Because it perfectly captures what we’re trying to achieve.

Our goal is to create a dining experience that isn’t just for vegans, but for anyone who values creativity and the beauty of nature on their plates. We focus on produce supplied by our dedicated team of organic farmers – most of whom are located within two hours of the restaurant. We use techniques that any modern kitchen would use, and apply these to showcase the flavours, textures and nutritional advantages of our ingredients.

While the botanical cuisine label is free from the controversy and politics that can be part of the vegan narrative (a central theme in Quincy’s story), it’s worth noting that many chefs who’ve spent time in our kitchen say it feels calmer and more gentle than others they’ve worked in. I’ve reflected on this, and I think perhaps it’s because we work with life rather than death.

But working with plants is compelling in other ways. Mainly, it requires a level of innovation that I’ve come to relish in the five years I’ve been Yellow’s head chef. For example, it’s not easy to do away with dairy and eggs in pastry, but we’ve developed techniques and found ways to successfully work without these ingredients. Nobody in any culture I can think of would argue about the deliciousness of, say, a perfect roast chicken. And believe me, finding an equivalent in the plant world is tough – but that’s all the more reason to keep trying.

I can’t say for sure whether the salad days of veganism are over or not – but we bought Yellow anyway. It’s a canvas that feels tailor-made for us to keep painting to the best of our abilities, because we believe that with the right energy and a continued pursuit of excellence, ours will be measured against the country’s very best restaurants – not just the plant-based ones.

Broadsheet publishes a range of opinion stories from independent contributors. The ideas and views expressed in these pieces don’t reflect those of Broadsheet or its staff.