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Here in the UK, the weather looks glorious this weekend, which made me think of barbecues.
As a non meat-eater, there’s something deeply foul about the smell of flesh burning over fire to me, and it’s probably a smell that triggers PTSD in firefighters.
But, of course, dodgy smella aside, the human need to cook over fire is deeply ancestral - woven into our evolutionary fabric and social identity. Long before the invention of the stove or oven, we know that early humans gathered around open flames not just to prepare food, but to share space, warmth, and stories. Fire transformed raw ingredients into meals that were safer, more digestible, and far more flavourful, essentially marking a turning point in human development. Anthropologists argue that the control of fire and advent of cooking helped free up energy for brain growth, setting us apart from other species.
Fancy a coffee? You can treat me to one here, which helps me avoid charging stupid money for you to read my rubbish on this app :-) I’m grateful!
And beyond biology, fire was the original social network. Cooking over fire creates a natural focal point, a space where people instinctively gather. I recall a magical night in a back garden, where we gathered around a tawa, and all added ingredients to the dish as it cooked low and slow over the coals, while we laughed, talked and drank.
There's certainly a primal intimacy in passing food, tending coals together, and waiting while flavours slowly build in the open air. Smoke mingles with conversation. The crackle of flames replaces digital noise. In a world that often feels fragmented and fast-paced, cooking over fire taps into an ancient rhythm of connection, where food is discussed and shared, not just consumed.
Whether in prehistoric campsites, nomadic desert kitchens, or backyard barbecues today, cooking over fire remains one of the most enduring rituals of human togetherness.
These guys give some hot takes on hot coal cooking…
Vegans have every right to claim space over the coals, literally and figuratively. For some, the thought of a barbecue can induce anxiety. You know there will be questions from the foggy-minded carcass munchers. And you either turn up with your own shop-bought burgers or sausages and quietly hope there will be space on the coals (and separate tools) for your own food, or go over the top and hope you’ll convert everyone to the light side, having spent three days preparing, marinating and researching the tastiest possible stuff to cook!
When I lived in the UAE, barbecues for most of the year where the norm. Some of my friends were experts, and went as far as buying smokers and top-of-the-range kit.
There were many sunny afternoons spent over the grill, and a heap of memories.
One of my oldest friends in Dubai used to cook on the balcony of his fifth-floor flat, famously and frequently triggering the fire alarm. And he used to get so blind drunk that often his (amazing) food wouldn’t be ready until 2 or 3am, but it was worth it.
He’d also forget he’d already added chilli, and add more. I remember one night almost blacking out, due to how spicy he’d made some potatoes!
Sadly in Britain, not many people seem to have got the hang of decent barbecuing. There’s such a small window of weather good enough to pursue the dream of cooking al fresco, that people tend to panic. No-one seems to wait long enough for the charcoal to reach that grey ‘dusty’ stage, when it’s hot hot hot, but not burning the food with tongues of fire.
My mum said she hated barbecues, as she didn’t enjoy eating carbonised burgers and sausages. She honestly thought barbecuing meant turning food into blackened offerings.
Then there are people like my brother, who invested in an all-singing, (singeing?) all-dancing barbecue set up, only to drag it out twice a year, and then probably get rained on. I swear he spends more time cleaning the grill than actually cooking.
In Australia, it’s a national hobby, and when I drove from Melbourne to Alice Springs, [which I wrote about here], the barbecue culture permeated every campsite, park and public space. In the UK, light a barbecue in a park, and at best you’ll have people nearby moaning, at worst, a fine or something. Sigh.
Circling back to our in-built desire to cook over fire, after being caught in the 2004 tsunami in Sri Lanka, I was lucky enough to stay in a villa while we gratefully dusted ourselves down and worked out how to get home. The people who worked in the villa had access to a large, European-style kitchen, the sort of space I dream of, but always cooked outside over fire. I thought maybe it was related to the power cuts caused by the tsunami, but no, it’s just what they preferred. It took hours longer, but, especially given the circumstances, I remember the food tasting extra special.
So, dear reader, my point is that you need to explore your feelings towards this magical shared experience, and enjoy the great outdoors as well as fantastic plant-based barbecues. And if you host one, share some pictures. Below, I’m sharing some of my favourite barbecue dishes.
Jude lives in Scotland and is trying (very well) to create a natural life — but can’t bbq!
If you can’t be bothered to read recipes, here’s three great links to the Veganuary website, where they share some great vegan barbecue tips.
https://veganuary.com/vegan-bbq-food/
https://veganuary.com/vegan-bbq-tofu-marinades/
https://veganuary.com/vegan-bbq-guide/
But do please have a look at the recipes below!
RECIPES
Photo by janam thapa from Pexels
Now, for me, there’s no shame in rocking up with store-bought bangers, burgers or a salad, but if you fancy going the extra few feet, these recipes are quick, easy, taste great and make everyone feel good. Note — in the spirit of laissez-faire barbecue cooking, I’ve left out exact amounts of ingredients for some of these recipes. As ever, they’re pretty much customisable to your hearts content. For instance, if you can’t tolerate chilli flakes on your corn, try a spice rub of your choosing.
Charred Aubergine "Steaks" with Miso-Tahini Glaze
Aubergine/eggplant’s meaty texture becomes luscious and smoky on the grill, while the umami-rich glaze gives depth and a bit of a wow factor.
All you have to do is slice your aubergines lengthwise, score the flesh (I like a cross-cross pattern), then marinate the slices in a mix of miso, tahini, soy sauce, lemon juice, and a touch of maple syrup for as long as you can. You could do it the night before, or the morning of your proposed barbecue. Then grill until deeply charred and tender, brushing with more glaze as they cook. Ideally, serve them with fresh herbs and toasted sesame seeds.
Corn on the cob with chilli flakes, garlic and butter
Not my cat, not my corn
The recipe title says it all. Get some corn on the cob, and slather it with vegan butter, chilli flakes, good salt and as much garlic as you like. I love adding garlic paste, but not too much, as it’s salty as a fishes’ breath.
I wrap them up in foil, and leave them at the back of the barbecue, for at least 20-30 mins, then take them out of the foil and finish them off directly on the grill (or, at least, the designated nicer vegan section of the grill) for that charred look and taste. When cooked, you can add a splash of lemon juice or agave. This recipe always takes me back to the (famous) Al Dhaid Friday market in the UAE, where they sold carpets and clay pots, but alongside the road there were always corn vendors, who always got my business with their delicious blend of corn, salt, chili and lemon.
Portobello Mushrooms
Don’t go there. A mushroom is not a burger. You’ll get derision from the meat heads, and often, I personally find these giant mushrooms are wet and chewy. I leave expert mushroom cooking to one of my heroes, Derek Sarno, who is a proper mushroom—head, in the sense of cooking and eating, not transcendental experiences, (as far as I know). Still, if you do fancy something mushroomy over your coals, drizzle them with a bit of oil, garlic and parsley, salt and pepper, and put them over the heat for about 10—15 minutes.
Smoked Celeriac Tacos with Crunchy Slaw and Lime Cream
This is more my style. Celeriac absorbs smoky flavours brilliantly and shreds like pulled pork when roasted and grilled.
Peel the celeriac, and then rub it all over with smoked paprika, garlic powder, and olive oil.
Roast it whole in your normal over (i.e. do this before heading out to the flame zone) until tender, (I suggest about 1.5 hours at 190C, so do cook up some jacket potatoes etc, while you’re doing this!)
Slice it and char on the BBQ.
Next, shred your chargrilled slices and serve the shredded celeriac in tacos with red cabbage slaw and a vegan lime-cashew cream. A dash of chipotle oil takes it up a notch.
Vegan Lime-Cashew Cream
Ingredients:
1 cup raw cashews (boiled for 10 minutes)
½ cup water (plus more to thin)
2–3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 1–2 limes)
1 teaspoon lime zest (optional but zingy)
1 small garlic clove (or ½ if you prefer subtle)
1 tablespoon olive oil (optional for richness)
½ teaspoon salt (adjust to taste)
Optional: a pinch of cumin or smoked paprika for warmth
Preparation
To soften the cashews boil for 10 minutes, then drain.
Add the softened cashews, water, lime juice, zest, garlic, olive oil, and salt to a high-speed blender.
Blend until completely smooth, scraping down sides. Add more water a tablespoon at a time for a thinner crema.
Add more lime juice for tang, salt to balance, or a pinch of spice if desired.
“Romanesco looks like alien cauliflower and tastes like roasted magic.”
Grilled Romanesco with Chilli Oil and Toasted Pine Nut Gremolata
Romanesco looks like alien cauliflower and tastes like roasted magic. It caramelises beautifully and offers a satisfying bite.
Cut the Romanesco into wedges, steam lightly in your kitchen (for about 4-6 minutes, you’re aiming for vibrant green florets with a bit of bite, just tender enough to pierce with a fork, but still holding their structure.)
Next, char your wedges on the grill. (Sounds a bit painful to me). Drizzle with chilli oil and sprinkle it with this gremolata:
Pine Nut Gremolata
Make this while your Romanesco is steaming, as it’s best made fresh.
Ingredients:
1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped (no stems)
Zest of 1 lemon (organic if possible)
1 small garlic clove, very finely minced or grated
2 tablespoons pine nuts, lightly toasted
Optional: pinch of sea salt or a drizzle of olive oil for richness
Preparation
In a dry pan over medium heat, toast pine nuts for 2–3 minutes, stirring often until golden and fragrant. Let them cool, then chop coarsely.
In a small bowl, combine chopped parsley, lemon zest, garlic, and chopped pine nuts.
Add a pinch of salt or a splash of olive oil if desired, though traditional gremolata is oil-free.
Smoky Beetroot Burgers with Pickled Mustard Seeds and Horseradish Mayo
I couldn’t do a barbecue newsletter without including *one* burger, right? This one is a little different. Earthy beetroot + smoke + crunch = burger heaven. The texture is juicy, the colour vibrant, and the flavour bold.
Ingredients
For the Beetroot Burgers (Makes 4):
2 medium cooked beetroots (about 200g), grated
1 cup cooked chickpeas (or one 400g can, drained and rinsed)
½ cup rolled oats
2 tablespoons plain flour (or chickpea flour for gluten-free)
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil (plus more for frying or brushing)
Tip: if , like me, you suffer from collapsing burgers, add an egg replacement of your choice to help bind it.
For the Pickled Mustard Seeds:
3 tablespoons yellow mustard seeds
¼ cup apple cider vinegar
¼ cup water
1 tablespoon maple syrup
¼ teaspoon salt
For the Vegan Horseradish Mayo:
½ cup vegan mayo
1 tablespoon prepared horseradish (store-bought or homemade)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
Salt to taste
4 burger buns (toasted)
A handful of fresh rocket (arugula)
Optional: sliced red onion, avocado, or pickled cucumber
Preparation
Make the Pickled Mustard Seeds (can be done in advance): In a small saucepan, combine mustard seeds, vinegar, water, maple syrup, and salt.
Bring to a simmer and cook uncovered for 10–12 minutes until the seeds are plump and the liquid is syrupy. Remove from heat and let cool.
Prepare the Horseradish mayo by combining the vegan mayo, horseradish, lemon juice, and a pinch of salt in a bowl. Taste and adjust horseradish or lemon juice to your liking. Chill until ready to use.
In a mixing bowl, mash chickpeas roughly with a fork or potato masher, but leave some texture.
Add grated beetroot, oats, flour, smoked paprika, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and olive oil.
Mix until well combined. The mixture should hold together when pressed, but do add more flour if too wet.
Divide and shape into 4 patties. Chill for 20–30 minutes if you have time (this helps them firm up).
Cook patties over the barbecue for 4–5 minutes per side until crisp and browned.
Assemble the Burgers:
Toast your buns lightly. (I dont mean stand with your back next to the grill, folks)
Spread horseradish mayo on the bottom bun.
Add rocket, a beetroot patty, a spoonful of pickled mustard seeds, and any extras like red onion or avocado.
Top with the other half of the bun—and dig in.
Other easy bonus bbq ideas
Roasted veg - Chop a few good potatoes into small cubes. Cut 2—3 mixed peppers into big chunks. Cut a few onions into fours. Wrap this veg mix up in tin foil, cover with salt, pepper, oil and spices of your choice, and dump it at the back of the bbq. Forget for an hour or two, and then revisit when you’re hungry.
Courgettes with chilli and garlic — rub thick slices of courgette with your favourite chilli paste or sauce, and add garlic slices or paste. Leave on the grill for 5—8 minutes.
Asparagus with lemon and butter — if it’s in season, trim your spears, sprinkle them with lemon juice and give them a rapid grill for a few minutes. Perfect. Add the butter after you’ve barbecued them! :-)
And don’t forget dessert — wrap apples in tin foil, and leave them at the back of the bbq for an hour or so. They’ll be soft, sweet and delicious.,. You could even make an easy crumble (flour, butter, sugar) and roll the apples in the crumble before putting them over the coals.
Or slice a banana, stick some chocolate in the slice, wrap in foil and bbq for 20—30 minutes.
Don’t forget to turn up with a massive salad that you spent the previous day making, which no-one will eat. It’s a great barbecue tradition, alongside arriving with at least 16 burger buns and a large packet of crisps from the posh section.
foggy-minded carcass muncher.love it, good read
Nice recipes. Thanks for sharing.